#leave your poor bridesmaid alone!“

[weirdraccoon]

Hogwarts Legacy and what kind of Youtubers (ot tiktokers whatever) they are cause this idea just bit me in the brain

MC: one of those explorers who may or may not find the gates to hell in a cave. Also touches everything they find. Cursed ever since they played with a ouija board in a cemetery to win a bet. Lives. Talks about their pets while breaking into creepy abandoned buildings. Keeps a collection of creepy stuff over their bed. Some might think they're a psychopath.

Garreth: Recipes!!! But he doesn't have butter so maybe oil works? And he doesn't have that brown sugar but what if he adds some oil to the regular white sugar? He thinks the blender doesn't work until he realizes he didn't plug it in. First hundred videos are mostly about how to react to kitchen emergencies. Then he turns out to be an amazing cook and everyone misses when he used to set the water on fire.

Ominis: AITA reddit reactions, Karen-videos reactions, Wedding-drama reactions. Loves petty stories the most. (Gossip. He lives for gossip.) He makes live-especials where he criticises his best friend's latest video, not caring that said best friend is sitting right beside him. People ship them for some reason and he just goes along with it. (No one has told him Sebastian blushes when he fake kisses him on camera).

Sebastian: Book and movie reviews, he likes to compare them to decide which one was best (books always win in his channel). His lives are about him playing some videogame to either destroy his opponents or destroy the story. The ones he actually likes have their own section on his channel and it's clear he loves them by edition alone. He also has videos where he tries to pull pranks on his bf but either Ominis is very lucky or very innocent. Was the one who started the Sebinis ship (unknowingly) and will be the first to admit his feelings one day.

Imelda: Extreme sports and challenges. Has touched a lot of dangerous beasts just for the thrill of it. She was the one betting MC to play with the ouija board. She wanted to try jumping off a plane without a parachute but apparently that was not allowed and if she dared to do it anyway she wouldn't be welcome on a plane anymore. Most parents hate her channel but she says it's their fault if their children are idiots who try what they see on the internet.

Amit: Constelations and stuff about the universe, planets and stars. One day he mentions the zodiac signs and his fate is sealed. Realizes there is some truth to the zodiac and becomes one of the more popular channels on zodiac and astrology. Still hates when people think astrology is the same as astronomy. Tries to teach people. People ask about their zodiac houses. He learns about zodiac houses.

Poppy: cientific facts about animals and birds and bugs and anything that fits in the animal kingdom. Defends spiders when people say they should be burned. Recognizes weird shapped worms with one single glance. Tries to get people to be kind to animals even if people fight each other. One time she saved a wolf from death. Then she fed a deer. She also rescued a fox. Animals often visit her house to be pet or fed and she loves it.

[mattyriddlesbitch]

It Should Be You

Mattheo Riddle x F!Reader

Warnings: cussing, mentions of the battle of Hogwarts, mentions of death, pretty angsty

Another one way off schedule but I was inspired and wrote this in 1.5 hours. Enjoy.

4 years. It had been 4 years now since you last saw him. Your boyfriend, Mattheo who tragically passed away during the battle at Hogwarts. He tried protecting you as best as he could. He tried keeping you out of everything involving his father. He just disappeared a few days before the battle without a word and was never seen again. The word spread was that his father killed him and the ministry accepted that, marked him as legally dead and moved on.

Only you and a few of his friends held a funeral for him. It took several hours and his best friend Thedore physically pulling you away to get you back home from where you guys set up his headstone. With no body, you guys were able to set up a little headstone for him in an empty field near Hogwarts. That was his home. It felt like the most appropriate place.

Your relationship may have been difficult at times, especially with everything with his father. But he was the sweetest, funniest, and just overall best boyfriend-best partner-you ever had. No one before or after him made you feel the way you did with him. His death completely broke your heart into pieces, and never even fully recovered.

After a few years, your parents set you up with a man your age, Nathaniel. He was sweet and kind and you got along with him just fine, but he wasn't Mattheo. But you being with him made your parents happy and you didn't completely hate him. He was better than the other guys you dated, other than Mattheo, obviously. And he never saw your love for your late boyfriend as competition. He would support you and help you with your grief. Which made you feel a little worse about everything.

You liked the guy, but you didn't love him. That sounds so awful, but it was true. Your heart belonged to Mattheo. Even in his death.

Still, he was second best to Mattheo. And since his death, you felt so lonely. No one could really blame you for trying to move on.

So when Nathaniel asked you to marry him, you agreed. You went through the motions, pretending the wedding was with Mattheo instead. You picked out the colors you talked about previously, the flowers, the songs, everything was what Mattheo and you already decided. Your fiance didn't really care anyways about wedding planning. He just wanted you to be happy.

Your poor bridesmaids thought it was about you finding the perfect dress, and that was part of it, but it was mostly just knowing it was the most perfect dress for your and Mattheo's wedding. 

The only part that made you break down was wedding dress shopping. You could hear Mattheo giving his opinions about the dresses. “Too low cut, too lacy, too simple, not you, absolutely not.” But the one dress you put on where you could just hear him say ‘yes’ and admire you, it made you burst into tears.

The wedding that won't happen because he's dead and you're marrying Nathaniel.

Once the wedding was planned and set, the time felt like it flew by. Suddenly you were in the bride's room getting your hair and makeup done and getting into your wedding dress. You asked everyone to leave once you were ready and just sat down. The noise of the rain coming down hitting the window was the only sound you could hear.

Of course it had to rain on your wedding day. Though, it was fitting.

You looked at the pictures of you and Mattheo on your phone, trying not to cry and ruin your makeup.

“I'm sorry, Mattheo. It should be you. But you're not here. I…” You swallowed, turning your phone off and looking up. You had so much more to say. Like how you wanted to grow old with him and marry him and, and, and…

Merlin, you were still in love with your dead boyfriend, but marrying some poor guy just so you wouldn't be alone and make your parents happy. How shitty is that?

Maybe you could grow to love Nathaniel. He isn't bad.

If only you could shut off that annoying voice.

But he isn't Mattheo.

One of your bridesmaids knocked on the door to let you know it was about time to walk down the aisle.

You sighed before taking a deep breath and composing yourself. You left the room and got ready with your beautiful bouquet of flowers.

“Sunflowers, because they remind me of us since they face the sun to live, just like how I need you to live.” Mattheo's words echoed in your head as you looked at the flowers.

You looked up in time to hear the piano playing as the first couple walked down the aisle. You wanted to burst into tears again. This is not what you wanted. It should be Mattheo at the end of the aisle. Not Nathaniel.

The rest of the couples went, leaving you by yourself, about to turn the corner to take your first step when the main door behind you burst open. You turned to look at the cause of the noise and saw him.

Mattheo fucking Riddle.

He was standing there, still in the doorway, out of breath, drenched from the rain outside. He was exactly how you remembered him. Though his hair was longer, showing the curls better.

You couldn't even speak, you were so stunned.

“Don't marry him.” The words rushed out Mattheo's mouth as he was still catching his breath.

“What?” It was all you could manage.

“Don't fucking marry him.” He said, coming over to you now.

“I'm not hallucinating, am I?” You whispered to him when he was standing right in front of you.

“No, no. I'm sorry. It's a long story, but when I heard you were getting married, I couldn't…” He swallowed, looking down at the wedding dress. “Please tell me I'm not too late.”

“You're alive. What are you doing here? Where have you been?” You asked, all sorts of emotions running through you.

“Stopping your wedding. God, you're so beautiful.” He said, cupping your cheek with one of his hands. “Don't marry him. Run away with me. And I'll answer everything.”

“Mattheo, I…” You sighed in disbelief.

“Please. I'm here now. Please?” He moved his hand off of your cheek to grab one of your hands.

You looked behind you to where everyone was waiting for you just around the corner. 

“(Y/N), love, please? I'm giving you the rest of my life. Just walk out of here with me.”

You could hear the piano stalling the music as they waited for you and you saw your mom peek her head around the corner to see the delay, her jaw dropping at seeing Mattheo.

He smiled before turning back to the exit and pulling you with him in a run outside. You hair, makeup, and dress were all ruined within 10 seconds, but you couldn't care less when the man you loved for years was now running away with you.

“I'm sorry.” You told her before dropping the bouquet and turning back to Mattheo.

[bowandcurtsey]

When someone else calls their s/o with their last name for the first time

(bc boys version) Haikyuu boys version here

So I decided to do a little quick piece amidst the 1700 event requests, because I miss black clover contents and I personally loved this fic and idea hehe. Here's one for all of you, something sweet and fuzzy.

Yami | Nozel | Fuegoleon | Zenon x F! Reader TW: unchecked You may of may not want to read this before reading yami's fic

Yami Sukehiro

You had to drag you husband’s ass out to the apartment viewing. You knew that low key, he found it hard to leave the bulls HQ. Afterall it was a place he found, built and had for a very long time.

But now that you’re married, it was only right for you two to have some alone and peaceful time without the walls breaking or anything catching fire at home.

Yami compromised to move and you compromised to find a place where the base can be nearby too.

“So, Mr Yami, your wife came the other day and she loved this place, how do you like it?”

“Yeah, whatever she likes.” Yami shrugged, he was okay with whatever, so long as you’re living with him.

“You have a lovely hubby, Mrs Yami. Aren’t you a lucky lady~” the agent smiled at you before her phone rang.

“Oh I have to get this, please excuse me for awhile, feel free to look around!” And she stepped out of the apartment

“So, Mrs Yami,” you were wrapped by his huge frame from the back, “is this our new love nest?”

You blushed and swatted him playfully, “if you like it!”

“I like it so long as the neighbours are okay with loud noises,” he smirked.

Nozel Silva

You were really busy with the wedding preparations , so you sent your fiancé to collect your customised gifts for your bridesmaids.

He stepped into the store and handed the receipt to the shopkeeper.

“Oh Mrs Silva’s gifts~” the lady said as she scurried to the back of the store.

Nozel stood there, stunned by what she said.

“Here you go,” she handed him the gifts awhile later, “you are Mr Silva?”

Nozel blinked, coming back to his senses, “yes.”

“Ah, Mrs Silva speaks a lot of you, I can tell she loves you very much.”

A blush crept up Nozel’s cheeks and painted it a tint of pink.

When he came home, he handed you the gifts.

“Thank you honey,” you smiled as you inspected the meticulous work.

“You’re welcome, Mrs Silva” he whispered in your ears before pressing a peck on your cheek.

Fuegoleon Vermillion

“Is Mrs Vermillion in?” A florist came into the crimson lion HQ one day.

“Mereo!” Fue was walking out from the pantry, “someone’s looking for you”

Mereo came out from the pantry with a cup of coffee in hand, “what?”

“Mrs Vermillion, I was told to come here to meet you,”

Mereo stared at the man for a few seconds, “what did you call me?”

The poor man read out the name on the paper carefully, “Mrs Ver-Mil-Lion, did I get that right?”

“Oi, dumb brother,” Mereo marched into Fue’s office to drag him out.

“Say it louder to his face, you’re looking for who again?”

“Mrs Vermillion, sir.”

Fuegoleon’s face turned bright red as he heard it from someone else for the first time.

“M-my wife-”

“Oh the florist is here!” You suddenly came in through the doors.

“Ah, Mrs Vermillion, I’ve been looking for you,” he bowed.

Fue stood there smiling with pride, he had to purse his lips a little so his smile wouldn’t get too wide as he listened in on the conversation with you and the florist on how to decor the place for the upcoming Crimson Lion anniversary.

You thanked the florist as he left.

“Mrs Vermillion sounds good on you, honey” he couldn’t contain his wide smiles.

“Oh honey,” you rolled your eyes cheekily at him, “please, your lips are about to reach your ears!”

Zenon Zogratis

He was kinda mad at you for going on a mission without telling him, so he didn't say a single word on the way to the restaurant as you celebrated your monthly date night.

"Do you have a reservation monsieur?" a waiter greeted you both.

"y/n." Zenon gave the waiter your name, since you booked the restaurant for tonight.

"let me see..." he scanned through the list of names, "ahh, Mrs Zogratis, si?"

"yep." you nodded shyly.

"And you must be Mr Zogratis, sir." the waiter beamed at the both of you, "lovely couple we have tonight, welcome in~"

He led you both to a quiet corner where you could oversee the spade kingdom. "Let me know when you're ready to order, Mr and Mrs Zogratis."

"are you still mad, Zen? You weren't back yet and it was a fast mission, so it slipped my mind to leave a note for you," you jutted your lip, pouting at your man.

"how could I stay mad, Mrs Zogratis?" his head rested on one hand, as he looked at you with soft ocean blue eyes.

You smiled shyly, it seemed surreal that now, you were married to this man.

"hmm, I should use this trump card more often~" you joked.

Zenon chuckled as he shook his head, what will he ever do with you.

[mrsfrecklesmarauders]

Lily had lost Potter and her house wasn't even that big. She was afraid that he would go around causing trouble as always.

She didn't know yet why she invited him over. Him! James Bloody Potter, the boy she used to loathe with her life, was now her date for her sister's wedding.

All for a silly dream. They had danced in the dream. They had maybe kissed at the end... Everything was so confusing.

Lily was having weird thoughts because Potter was being nicer with her. That was all.

"Potter?"

When Lily reached to the second floor to see Marge wrapped around some poor bloke. She had the reputation of harassing boys when she was drunk. And oh God, that girl loved to drink.

Although it was a shocking surprise to realize the boy Marge was trying to seduce and snog was none other than James Potter himself.

Lily gaped at them.

"Honestly, I need to go back and find Lily..." James was saying, rather uncomfortable.

"No no no, you hottie. You're not leaving a lady alone in this state..."

"Maybe you should get some water" James said, trying to push her chubby arms away.

"Yeah... Would you be a gent and take me to the kitchen between your strong arms..."

Lily couldn't witness this any further. She didn't stand Marge, that superficial cow, but she felt an inexplicable kind of rage now.

"James, darling!" And that rage made her approach and grab his arm, pulling him away from Marge "I've been looking everywhere for you"

"I was getting out of the loo when I bumped into... Into..."

"Marjorie Eileen Dursley at your service, handsome" she offered him her hand "Single and ready to mingle" she winked.

James let out a nervous laughter. Lily rolled her eyes. She was disgusting.

"She's Vernon's bloody sister" Lily whispered in James's ear to explain. He seemed to understand.

"Marge, I see you've met my boyfriend James... James... Potter..."

Lily didn't know why she said it. It was the neccesity to annoy Marge. And brag to her that Lily had the boy and not her. And to keep her away from him. James was... He was... Her friend? He didn't need to stand Marge's flirting any longer.

Lily could feel James's curious look on her, but she ignored him, focused still on Marge. She even had a cup in her hand still.

"Yeah, I'm the boyfriend..." James nodded beside her "I'm her boyfriend... Yeah Lily, darling?"

"Yeah darling"

This was ridiculous.

Marge was immediately adopting that disgusted expression she wore when she was around Lily. She looked at her as if she was a dirty dog from the street.

"Dear Lily," she hiccuped "A new boyfriend? I thought you were dating that weird boy with the large nose...What was his name?" she spat "I heard Tuney saying you even took him to your room on New Years"

Lily's face immediately went red remembering the fiasco of New Years, when Severus tried to kiss her. But they were no longer friends. That boy had hurt her. Although her blush might have been giving a wrong impression.

She felt James's gaze on her.

"It's none of your business, Marge" Lily replied "I am dating James now, so..." and she unconsciously pulled him closer.

James put an arm around her "And we are so happy, aren't we love?"

Marge got a bit red in fury. She was looking between the two with disdain. She tusked and took another sip of her drink.

"Oh Lily, dear. Didn't I tell Petunia that the maid dress wouldn't fit your body well?" she snapped. "Shame" and she gave her that annoying look upside-down. Lily was getting irritated.

Lily, Marge and Tuney's friends had been chosen maids. Marge the bridesmaid. But the purple dress looked like it was about to tear itself apart on Marge. "I'm surely a Medium Size, Tuney. The diet had been working" she had said. Marge was an Extra large, Lily was sure.

"Nice meeting you, handsome" Marge winked at James in front of Lily. In front of Lily! His supposed girlfriend "I'll be around if you want a dance, or a drink, or a smoke..." and she winked at him once more.

"Oh I don't drink or smoke" James faked a smile but he was squeezing Lily tighter. Maybe scared or uncomfortable. "And I rather dance with my girl"

Lily blushed at that comment. Marge looked furious.

They stayed like that faking to be a happy couple until Marge climbed down the stairs.

Then Lily let out a groan. "What a freaking disgusting drunk bitch!! Who does she think she is? Bloody hell! I can't believe we became family and I have to see her stupid face from now on... I don't know how Tuney can stand her... And Vernon does everything she says..."

Lily stopped talking because she noticed two things: 1) James was looking at her with amusement and a cheesy smile, 2) They were still very close to each other.

"So, turns out I am your boyfriend, eh?" James raised his eyebrows suggestively.

Lily pushed him away immediately.

"No, no, no no no, no..." Lily shook her head "Don't you dare take advantage of the situation, Potter" she said, while James blew her kisses in a mocking way "I only said that so that Marge would leave you alone. She is a nightmare, that woman... Honestly, I was just doing you a favor"

Then Lily crossed her arms to try to hide away how she was blushing. And why was she even blushing?

"Well thanks a lot, girlfriend" James giggled "Tell me, Evans, do I have to pretend with the rest of your family or..."

Lily hadn't thought about that. Marge would spread the news about Lily's "new boyfriend" as fast as she had spread the rumor of how Lily took Severus to her room on New Years. What a bitch!

James Potter was enjoying this.

"Is that why you invited me here, Evans?"

"No!"

Why did she invite him here?

Lily swallowed her pride. James was laughing.

"Potter..."

"Yes, darling?"

Lily hated his ass and regretted inviting him over. Mary was wrong. Nothing could happen between them and the dream was just a silly trick of her subconscious imagination.

"Would you please be my fake boyfriend for the rest of the evening so Marge would leave both of us alone?" Lily asked while she grunted.

"Let me think about it..." James tapped his chin.

What a twat!!

"Or you can just leave and go back to Hogwarts right now!!"

"Fine!" James laughed. The bloody wanker laughed "It would be an honor to be your fake boyfriend, Evans...." he grinned "Or should I say, darling?"

Lily almost smiled as she grabbed his arm and they started walking to the stairs "Don't be too much of an idiot or I would be glad to fakely break up with you"

"I wouldn't even dream about it" he replied "Our fake relationship means a lot to me"

Lily couldn't avoid laughing.

"Shut up, Potter"

So they climbed down the stairs as a new FAKE couple.

[thebeatles-world]

The Letters: Part 1

*This imagine is inspired by the movie 2004 The Notebook**

You met Ringo while visiting  England with your parents one summer in 1957.

at 17, you loved Ringo and always wanted to be together. It was young love. 

You and Ringo were of the same age, but there was a difference in your financial status. While Ringo was poor,  you were wealthy due to your father's money.

Although Ringo came from a low-income family, your love for him remained strong even though your parents disapproved of his background.

During a night when you introduced Ringo to your parents, they took you to the study hall for a private conversation. Unfortunately, poor Ringo overheard everything they said about him, all negative comments due to his lack of wealth.

This made Ringo get up from his chair and walk out.

You were upset by the negative comments your parents made about Ringo, which caused you to cry. You left the study hall and realized that Ringo was not present. Searching for him, you called out his name and found him outside.

"Ringo, please wait for me. I'm sorry you had to hear all of that," you said as you wiped away tears and grabbed Ringo's arm. "It's alright, love," Ringo replied, his eyes shining in the night sky.

"I will always love you, but I cannot be with you," said Ringo with a sad smile as he wiped away your tears. His words left you taken aback and you begged him not to say that with tears streaming down your face.

"I'm sorry, but I don't think we should be together. Would you be willing to try being friends?" Ringo said. 

 You were devastated and felt like your heart was shattering. "No," you replied firmly. "I'm the one breaking up with you. Please leave me alone and go away!" You yelled at him and pushed him against his car.

After you pushed him, Ringo got into his car. You begged him with tears in your eyes.

"Wait, Ringo, I didn't mean it. Can we please move on from this?" However, Ringo did not respond, and instead, he drove away, leaving you heartbroken and sobbing all night.

The following day, your parents made the decision to leave England earlier than planned and head back home.

 Despite your objections, you were forced to go with them to the USA. Ringo heard about your departure from a local resident and rushed to catch up with you, but unfortunately, you had already left.

Throughout the months, Ringo wrote you letters, but unfortunately, you never received them because your mother hid them from you to prevent you from accepting them.

Fast forward to 1964, you had left Ringo behind and were now engaged to James, a wealthy man whom your parents approved of solely because of his wealth.

You might have missed the fact that Ringo gained fame through his involvement with the Beatles.

While trying on your wedding dress one day, your mother showed you the front cover of a newspaper featuring you and James. However, you also noticed that Ringo and his bandmates, known as The Beatles, were featured as the number one hit across the USA and other countries.

As your mother looked at the photo of Ringo with his bandmates over your shoulder, she let out a gasp. This caused you to feel weak and eventually faint upon seeing Ringo's picture in the newspaper. Your bridesmaids reacted by screaming and rushing to your side to provide assistance.

To be Continued... 

[the-fiction-witch]

Dec 26th All I Want For Christmas

Media Love Actually 

Character Sam

Couple Sam X Reader

Rating Sexy + Sweet

26th Of December 2022

I sat on the small leather stool looming over my third drinks empty glass still in my hand every so often swirling the dregs of the drink around the bottom of the glass watching it pool there. I was angry, well sort of mostly just disappointed in knowone but myself. I was a fool for thinking after all this time she would still think of me and adore me as much as I did her. My first love. We rekindled our connection on an American tour with my band and she even came to London to live with me, we were engaged but only for nine months. I proposed last Christmas but it wasn't smiles and ring flashes for long. I noticed she didn't much seem to be doing any planning for our wedding I didn't push given she had alot of work on and such but as the weeks and months went on and still she hadn't even shown a sign of a single thought about our wedding I pushed her about it she got defensive saying she was too busy to think about it now so I backed off and tried to do some myself but I felt awful as I'd always have to stop myself as I didn't know what she wanted, the months kept on rolling by and still nothing so I faced her about it we ended up arguing for hours and it finally snapped "Because I don't want to marry you!" "You - you what?" "I. I'm sorry Sam. It was all so fast a rush of emotions when we met up again, I'd just gone through so many bad relationships the idea of you sounded so perfect. Like a romcom movie and then suddenly we where here and you proposed and I... I didn't know what to say. It was so sweet and so romantic but I just... I never wanted to go through with it I just couldn't face to tell you no" I tried to hold our relationship together but we both knew the moment she was honest with me our relationship was over. She moved out last month and I've been alone since. I felt so stupid, so upset with myself. I'd found myself down here alot drinking away my lonesomeness. Didn't help I heard that stupid song everywhere this time of year, it always made me think of her no matter when I heard it but I just have to live with it can't avoid it this time of the year. I tried to just burry my head in the bar and not think about anything for a while. "You okay?" I headed from the bar so I glanced up seeing a girl behind the bar she had a little pair of ankle boots on with black tights, a black long sleeve shirt rolled to her elbows, a red check pinafore dress around her a red bow in her hair she took my glass and cleaned it "Fine" I lied "Another?" She asks "Yeah okay" I shrug so she smiled and made me another drink I grabbed my wallet but she stopped me "Don't worry about it" she says dropping the drink off "You're sure?" "Yeah, so long as you tell me why the face is so long?" She smiled "It's a very long and sad story" "Come on in all ears" I gave her the abridged version of it all and she did listen hanging on my words and reacting much as one would expect "You poor thing. I know how you feel" "You do?" "Umm my man left me at the altar after we paid a fortune for a wedding, left me for the bridesmaid." "Oh I'm so sorry" "It's alright. Cut my dress shorter and went to the reception had all the food drinks and music we paid for had a fantastic party" "That's nice. Sorry I don't mean to be all gloomy" "It's okay, don't worry about it. Here can't be sad with a chocolate lolli" she smiled handing me a little wrapped chocolate lollipop of Santa I smiled and unwrapped it having a nibble she was right you can't be sad with a chocolate lollipop, we talked for a good long while about everything and nothing until last orders, I grabbed my jacket and made sure to leave a good tip for her as she had cheered me up more then the drinks could "careful on your way home." She warns gathering glasses "I will. You be careful too" "I will do. Y/n" she smiled offering her hand "Sam" I smiled giving her hand a little shake "thanks for cheering me up" "Anytime" she smiled I headed out and down the frosty streets to my cold empty apartment I had some water to chase a hangover away and got tucked into bed away from the cold, but as I laid on my back blanket in hand staring up at the textured ceiling my heart raced. "Fuck" I muttered

I often visited the bar when I felt lonely or sad, she always managed to make me feel better we talked about everything and nothing for forever she was so sweet but wouldn't take shit at the same time likely the bar girl mentality sweet as a lemon drop shot but could happily kick your arse of required I had to admit I was a little… smitten on her but I tried to ignore it all was never good with this stuff. Given how close it was to Christmas I felt really down tonight and knowing I wouldn't see her till the new year didn't help "Stop frowning Sammy" she says pinching my cheek as she returned from getting a few glasses from the corner table "I can't help it. Christmas always makes me feel sad" "Did you know" she smiled coming around to behind the bar in her little green and red dress in a Christmas tree pattern with little Christmas light print tights "the holidays have the highest suicide rate of any time of year" she smiling "That doesn't exactly make me feel better y/n" "Come on what do I have to do to stop you being so sad?" "Why do you care if I'm happy?" "Sam. I run a bar. Sad customers don't make a good atmosphere. And a bad atmosphere makes people not buy drinks. And I have Christmas shopping to do. So smile or I will shove a chocolate lollipop up your butt." She laughed "Christmas makes me think about Joanna that's all" "Your mum or your ex?" "Both honestly. But mostly ex" "You want me to take your mind off it" "Yes please" "Okay, do you wanna play guess the plot to the holiday walk of shame?" "Maybe later not fun ones this early" "Alright. You wanna choose a song for the music?" "Eh" "You wanna watch me make a jolly snowman" "What's that?" "A drink I am in the process of inventing" "Can I try it when you're done?" "Yes" "Okay, show me" "Yay. Right first step. We take a nice big margarita glass to make sure it's clean. Well clean enough for Sammy" she smiled "we take a hostess snowball from the snack shelf and knock off some of the coconut and mix it with some sugar to coat the rim, then take a bit of melted white chocolate and do some artsy shit in the glass" "Ohhh fancy looking. May I taste the chocolate?' "Go on" she laughed letting me have a bit of the still very hot melted chocolate "Ummm. That's nice. Not cheap catering grade chocolate?" "What do you take me for Sammy? No we have real chocolate here this chocolate was once a white chocolate lollipop" she smiled "Ummm delicious" "Then you drop a snowball inside" "Oh." "Then grab yourself some vodka" "I like vodka" "As a dash of peppermint snapps" "Ooohh" "Then shake that up like a bottle of sunny d where it's all sunk to the bottom" "Then we get some white chocolate liquor" "Ooohh does it taste chocolatey?" "Chocolate alcohol so gone off chocolate" "Alright" "Then add that to the glass but not to full you know it's mixed of the snowball floats" then just as a little dash of hot chocolate mix and milk" "This is chocolatey" "And drunk" she giggled grabbing a candy came stabbing the snowball and then giving the whole drink a stir "one jolly snowman" she smiled handing it over to me "try it try it" she smiled "Alright I'll give it a go" I smiled having a sip "whoa… that is sugary" I laughed "nice just a bit of a holiday kick in the mouth" "Let me try" she smiled grabbing a straw and having a sip Herself "ummm I think the chocolate milk is a bit redundant" "I like It actually, maybe the snaps are what's taking it to the intense you already have a candy cane in it sort of goes crazy with the peppermint" "I like the lot of peppermint though makes me think of like white chocolate peppermint bark but like a drink," "Hu I've never had peppermint bark so maybe its just me. It is nice though. Needs work but it's drinkable" "Sam I've seen you drink bottle beer you'll drink anything" "True" I shrug "what are you up to while the bars shut and all?" "Just upstairs probably watch a terrible Christmas movie just didn't want to work over Christmas" "Makes sense… I will miss you." "What?' she giggled "I'll miss you with the bar closed I won't get to see you" "Or drink" "I can drink at home. I'll miss getting to see you" "Your a sweetheart" she smiled giving my cheek a kiss "aren't you spending Christmas with your stepdad?' 'yes. My stepdad, stepmum and step brother" "How does that work again?' "My mum met my dad" "Right" "Then had me" "Okay" "My dad left" "Oh" "Then my mum met my stepdad" "Following you" "Then my mum died" "Oh goodness" "And my step dad married my step mum" "Then they had your step brother?' "No my step mum already had my step brother with another guy." "What happened to him?' "Died" "Oh. So like… none of you are actually related to each other?" "Not at all. But there still my family' "What about your dad?" "What genetic dad?' "Yeah?" "No clue. He left when I was four haven't had so much as a birthday card from him since" I shrug "No wonder your so gloomy" she laughed playing with my hair a little "I'm gloomy because I don't like Christmas" "Liar." "I don't I don't like Christmas" "You love Christmas your just gloomy because your your ex" "...maybe" "Sam. I know you loved her but your not going to solve your problems acting gloomy and drinking your life away in here" "Thought you'd want me to drink my life away. I'm paying you for the privilege" "Do you actually check your bank?' "Rarely why?" "Go on" she says I was confused but as she went to deal with someone's wine I got my phone and checked my bank as she returned "Holy hell" "Umm hum" "How'd I get so much money? I thought I was like really low on money" "I haven't been charging you" "Why not? I drink like a fish when I'm here?" "Because your my friend. And I like helping to cheer you up" she smiled giving my head a kiss and going off to sort other stuff around the bar as it was now last orders "Thank you y/n." "It's alright. You always tip me good anyway so it balances out" she laughed "You really see me as a friend?" "I do. Unless I'm just your bartender?" "No no. I really hoped you were my friend" I smiled I helped her tidy the bar up as I felt a little bad and like usual I was the last one here following her out into the snow as she turned the security in and locked the bar up "Guess I'll see you at New year's" "Yeah," she smiled "if you've got a minute I have something for you" "Something for me?" I asked and she nods so I happily followed her to the little door beside the bar she unlocked it heading up the stairs so I followed her up where a little cramped apartment sat above the bar she let me in and it was warm and cosy exactly how I imagined her apartment to be with some lights and paper snowflakes in the snows and a beautiful little Christmas tree in the living room "You have a really nice apartment" "Thanks I like being close to the bar" she smiled heading to her living room leaving her bag and such on the table and kneeling on the floor digging under her tree a moment before she returned with a box with red and white candy cane striped paper and a big green bow "for you" "For- for me?" "Yeah" "You - you got me a Christmas present?" "Of course I did" "You didn't have to do that for me" "Well I wanted to. I know Christmas makes you sad but I wanted to cheer you up even when I can't be with you" "Aww y/n. That's so sweet. Thank you so much" I smiled happily taking the box immediately being shocked by how heavy it was "I really wish I'd got something for you now" "That's okay. Now get home or the snow will be up to your knees" "Alright, thank you so much y/n. I'll see you at New year's" "See you then" she smiled I blushed but couldn't help myself I gave her cheek a little kiss and she gave me a rather amused look "Uhhh I uhhh" "See you new years Sam." "See ya" immediately I bolted out of her apartment and all the way home feeling like a fucking idiot. I set the gift she got me under my little tree it honestly made the tree feel rather unimpressive and I tried to get to bed.

I woke to the snowy morning sitting up with a yawn, I didn't have to be at my step dad till lunch time so I made a coffee and got settled to open the few little gifts under my tree, alot of jokes from my band mates as we weren't playing for a while given Luke's wife just had a baby, a few useful things why as an adult Christmas gifts are just useful things like socks and underpants. To be fair I did need new socks so. I saved the biggest for last ripping it open like an excited child to discover what was within. First was a large fluffy blanket with red and green swirls on it it was very soft and very warm and almost immediately I noticed "ohhh weighted blanket" I smiled putting it over my whole body "ummmm that's nice. Crush my anxiety weighted blanket. Crush it!" I continued in the box finished a little handmade snowman plush made of thick crotchet yawn with a little half broken carrot nose he was so nice to hug and even somehow smelt like snow, I continued on finding a little box that I opened up an found a beer glass from the bar but where the brand name was had been removed and instead was a fancy logo with my name in it. Lastly a Christmas card with a little red beetle driving thought the snow with a Christmas tree on its roof "Merry Christmas Sammy, hope you have a lovely day. I know you're not fond of Christmas after everything that happened but if I can bring you even the smallest bit of joy this holiday season I will, I made you a lovely snowman to hug away the sadness, I got you a warm cosy blanket to keep out the cold and your own glass for in the bar. Have a lovely Christmas Love y/n P.s I hope to see you in the bar on new year's maybe then I'll have someone to kiss at midnight X' Love! Kiss! I could have melted seeing those words in that sweet handwriting. I felt even worse for not getting her a present. I could drop something off to her on the way to my Step dads but it's Christmas day and nowhere will be open. Wait! Petrol stations! They have small shops attached! I got sorted for the day getting everything I had to take to my step dad's even taking my snowman to cuddle on the way and the first petrol station with a decent little shop o found I pulled in getting some fuel and heading inside they didn't have much in the way of potential gifts but I had to get her something. I grabbed a basket and filled it up with sugary treats making a little sweet basket of sorts I found a couple nice bottles of wine and I even found in the children's sweet section some little reindeer plushies expensive but I assume here for child's to pester there parents but I got one the guy at the counter gave me a look but didn't ask questions and I even found a gift bag at the counter it looked a little crazy but still the thought that counts I got a Christmas card from home and wrote her a little note "Merry Christmas y/n I felt terrible when I opened your beautiful present, that I didn't get anything for you. Thank you so so much for everything this year and this Christmas you've helped me more than you know. Love Sam X P.s I'd be more then happy to be your new years kiss so long as you're happy to be mine Xx" I popped the card in and headed over to the bar parking outside heading through the snow to her door I rang the bell and left the bag in the snow bolting back to my car so she wouldn't see me she opened the door and looked around confused before she noticed the little bag in the snow, she knelt down picking it up reading the tag she looked around clearly lookin for me but she didn't spot me so she happily went back inside, I smiled and started the car back up heading to my step dads.

I found my usual seat at the bar right in the end getting settled with my glass, y/n didn't have much time to stand and chat with me given new years is popular for any bar bushe always checked in with me giving me drinks in my special glass and checking I was okay as it got later many of the bar hoppers hopped off and the place got quieter she put the tv on so people could watch the show she did everyone a drink and came over as the build up to the countdown began "Hi sammy' "Hi," "Sorry its-" "Don't worry about it, your a busy girl" I shrugged "Well break time" she smiled coming around the bar to sit beside me on her own little stool in her sweet black dress with little golden stars "You look beautiful' "Thank you, you look very handsome too" she giggled fiddling with my button down "Well new years, best make an effort' I shrug "maybe this year will be better' "I hope so" she nods leaning her head on my shoulder I blushed a little but nervously put my arm around her keeping her close "thank you very much for my presents" "Oh, you're welcome. I'm glad you like them" "You didn't have to" "Well I felt bad that you got me such nice stuff and I didn't get anything for you. Sorry it was all a little -" "I loved it all very much, my little reindeer sits on my bed now" "Aww my snowman does too" Our conversation halted as everyone began chanting the countdown. I couldn't help looking at her as she nuzzled there on my shoulder "did you… still want me to be your kiss?" "If you wanted me to be yours" she smiled nuzzling her nose against my own as the countdown ended I smiled and leant down pressing a soft gentle kiss to her lips, she happily kissed back slightly moving her lips against my own, they where do soft, so perfect, I could even taste a little of her vanilla lipstick we kissed till even the song was over till she pulled back smiling sweetly "I need to get back to work" "Yeah course sorry-" "To be continued?" "Uhh yeah definitely" I nodded excitedly she gave me another kiss and heading back behind the bar as everyone wanted their drinks I couldn't stop smiling leaning on the bar watching her like a love sick idiot, she let me stay after the bar was closed as she often did and I helped her tidy up a bit "all good. Did you want me to walk you home?' I asked having finished up some glasses for her "It's upstairs Sammy" she giggled "Still. I want to make sure you get home safe" "Alright come on" She grabbed her bag and I got my jacket helping her lock up and we headed up to her apartment everything much the same as I last saw it "there I've been walked home" she laughed "Yeah, so I uhhh I guess I'll see you after the bank holidays' "I'm sure you will," she smiled. "Sam. You don't have to come and drink to come see me you know you can just come over even when the bar isn't open if you like" "Really?" "Yeah" "Well I might just take you up on that then" I smiled "Alright, goodnight Sam" "Goodnight y/n" I smiled giving her a sweet kiss but as I pulled away looking at her in the sweet multicolor Christmas lights I couldn't help staring she smiled and closed the gap between us kissing me much more intensely I matched her quickly wrapping my arms around her waist she began tugging at my jacket as our kiss became a make out, I didn't deny her slipping my jacket off throwing it on her sofa which made her tug me closer, so I tightened my grip on her slightly moaning into our kiss till she pulled back grabbed my hand and tugged me into her bedroom.

I yawned in my half awake state rubbing my eyes a little as I laid on the soft cotton lavender scented sheets. I was kinda cold but that was to be expected given I am naked. I smiled turning over wrapping my arms around her warm body snuggling up as close as I could too her giving her shoulder a kiss "Ummm good morning" she yawns as I'd clearly woke her "Good morning" I smiled peppering kisses down her neck "That's was nice" "Humm?' "Last night" "Very very nice" I smiled "Would you be mad at me if I said I was thrilled that my new year started with a bang?' "Yes" she giggled "Fair enough. Did you want me gone?" "No your nice and warm" "I am very happy to be your hot water bottle' I smiled "y/n?" "Yes Sam?' "Did you… wanna be my girlfriend?" "I was under the impression I already was… given, last night's hot, loud, endeavors" "Oh. Well if you wanna be" "I do." "I do too. Want you to be my girlfriend I mean" "Good. Now go back to sleep Sammy we'll talk more in the morning" she smiled "It's eleven thirty" "Oh. Maybe open with that" she says getting out of bed and starting to get dressed I just laid happily watching her for a while "Hi" "Hi" "I need to start thinking of a name for you" "Y/n?" "I meant a pat name." "Oh. I just like calling you Sammy" "Umm because it bugs me" "And it's fun" she smiled finishing up in her blue leggings and little white dress "My little snowflake" "Really?' "It's cute" 'fine. But you have to look after a little snowflake or I'll melt" "I'll take good care of you. I promise'

The year went fast as I find they do now days something about the endless march of time makes December come around a lot quicker then I remember it use to. But this year had been extremely eventful, I toured with the band for a couple months early in the year calling and facetiming with y/n whenever I could, and when I got back from the tour I just wanted to be as close to her as possible so I left my apartment and we moving to hers together, yes I was called utterly insane for this by literally everyone I know. But I didn't care we redid her whole apartment for the two of us making sure my snowman and her reindeer had a pride of place snuggled together on our headboard, I helped out in the bar whenever I wasn't working with my band and I even learnt a cool few drinks to make as well as tricks I can do cool shaky Bottle flip things now! We spend so much time together and we where do happy that on her birthday I got her a very very special present "You mean it?" "I do. I really do. I love you so much. Over never felt like this with anyone before if that's what you want too then I'd be very very happy" "Yes!" She smiled jumping on me pinning me to the floor giving me a million kisses "I love you so so so much" "I love you too my little snowflake" I smiled and helped her slip the ring on her finger. And yes I was also called insane for proposing but I didn't care, I was nervous we'd both me a bit… hesitant with weddings given both our prior disappointments but we sat together planning the most perfect wedding imaginable and it couldn't have come out more perfect in my dreams.

I stood nervously in the little white chapel our guests list small as we wanted quick and cheap plus it is Christmas Eve so some people are busy, I jumped a little when I heard the sweet song began the sweet Christmas melody playing so sweetly I couldn't wait so I turned to see her, carefully stepping in the wooden door her hair pinned up sweetly like a princess, not much make up on her face but a sweet red lipstick, a beautiful ankle length red dress with a bouquet of poinsettia flowers with some Holly and other Greenery. I did my best not to cry seeing her looking so beautiful my step dad even handed me a tissue given I was tearing up "Hi Sam" "Hi y/n" I smiled softly taking her hand Our ceremony was short and sweet but that's all we wanted it to be we even plaid loud Christmas music over our vows so only the two of us would hear them which got a laugh out of a lot of guests, and as the music swelled to its most perfect moment 'all I want…for Christmas… iiiiiiiisssssss…." I smiled and leant in for our most perfect kiss she happily kissed back us each holding each other close "yyyyyyyyyyooooooouuuuuuuuu" "I love you my little snowflake" "I love you too sammy" "Merry Christmas," "Merry Christmas Sam" "This is the best Christmas present I could ever have gotten" "The best present ever" she smiled nuzzling into my chest so I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her head.

[nemesyaaa]

OH WELL WELL WELL, I WANTED TO READ YOU AND SAW THAT FIC SO HERE WE GOOOOOO !!!

Marrying Rafe would feel like a dream come true. There would be every colour of flowers known to man. The whole island would be there. The rings would have the biggest diamonds. Your dress alone would cost tens of thousands but it’s okay because it’s Rafe Cameron. THIS IS VERY ACCURATE, NEED TO BE HIS CAMERON PRINCESS. HIS WIFE FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE AND THE MOTHER OF ALL HIS CHILD. AND THE PARAGRAPH IS SO TRUE !! HE WOULD MAKE THE BIGGEST WEDDING ON THE ISLAND, AND NOT FUCKING CARE ABOUT WASTING MONEY ON IT 😩😩😩🙏🏿 (NEED HIM, NEED HIM)

face reveal right now :

It wouldn’t be a traditional churchy wedding. No. It would be at the biggest most expensive resort and you’d marry outside. In the sunset, the grass, fairy lights and flowers filling in all the empty spaces. Every chair laid out perfectly with little gifts on each of them. Your bridesmaids and groomsman would wear only the expensive stuff. You’d pay for everyone’s hair and makeup. EVERYTHING was on you (Rafe). All the kids would have their own gift bags to keep them occupied because you love kids and were able to bribe Rafe to let them be at the ceremony. YOUR WRITINGS IS AS GOOD AS I CAN CLEARLY SEE THE SCENES. DAAAAMN, THIS IS BEAUTIFUL !! AND I NEED TO LIVE THIS DREAM (WILL FIX ME I SWEAR)

Rafe would 1000% cry!!! Like undoubtedly. He’d just be stood at the altar already thinking about you and tearing up. Knowing that your the only person EVER who has show him the love he deserves and your here today to confirm that you will never ever leave him. He still doesn’t believe it to this day. He doesn’t even believe you said yes and meant it. But here you are, about to walk out on the path of flower petals to the song you both picked out that reminded you of your first everything. Seeing you, god he’d break down. And he wouldn’t even care about everyone seeing. Because he knows he banked the prettiest and most perfect person on the island and he wants everyone to know just how you make him feel. He’s wrapped around you finger. He’s so madly inlove with you. And today is the day he finally gets the chance to admit it. Everything. Everythings he’s felt and thought the past few years, he gets to tell you and everyone else. He was ready, but also scared. IF HE CRIES, I CRY. IT'S SIMPLE. BUT OMG PICTURING THAT SCENE, THIS IS AMAZING. SUCH A GREAT JOB 🥰🥰🥰🫡 I'M LEAVING

You’d have your first dance alone, separate from the rest of your friends and family. Youd want it to be private and intimate. Going outside to enjoy your time alone in the quiet and sway side to side together as you just look into each others eyes with nothing but absolute pure love. Neither of you have ever felt like this before but you’d never exchange it for anything. You both knew this was forever, and you couldn’t wait to move on to the next big step. IT'S FUNNY FOR ME BECAUSE I DONT PICTURE HIM AS A GOOD DANCER BUT FOR HIS WEDDING, HE WILL MAKE AN EFFORT I THINK. BUT S1!RAFE IN SUIT CAN DANCE, AT LEAST A SLOW. 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 NOW I NEED TO SEE THIS (ANYWAYS)

For my nsfw girlies, afterwards you’d get a private plane to your honeymoon. Before you’d share the dirtiest sex known to man. On the plane? Yes. On the beach. Yes? you wouldn’t stop. Because you were both insanely lovestruck and couldn’t keep your hands off each other. This was for life. And you couldn’t help but keep your hands and eyes on the hottest man in the world. He was all yours. And you wanted everyone to know that. You wanted HIM to know that. OHHH ON TJE PLANE PLEASE 🫡🫡 WHY CRUSHING THE POOR BED ON THE HOTEL WHEN YOU CAN HAVING SUCH A FUNNY TIME IN THE PLANE

YES YES YES YES YES YES

Becoming a Cameron

Marrying Rafe would feel like a dream come true. There would be every colour of flowers known to man. The whole island would be there. The rings would have the biggest diamonds. Your dress alone would cost tens of thousands but it’s okay because it’s Rafe Cameron.

It wouldn’t be a traditional churchy wedding. No. It would be at the biggest most expensive resort and you’d marry outside. In the sunset, the grass, fairy lights and flowers filling in all the empty spaces. Every chair laid out perfectly with little gifts on each of them. Your bridesmaids and groomsman would wear only the expensive stuff. You’d pay for everyone’s hair and makeup. EVERYTHING was on you (Rafe). All the kids would have their own gift bags to keep them occupied because you love kids and were able to bribe Rafe to let them be at the ceremony.

Rafe would 1000% cry!!! Like undoubtedly. He’d just be stood at the altar already thinking about you and tearing up. Knowing that your the only person EVER who has show him the love he deserves and your here today to confirm that you will never ever leave him. He still doesn’t believe it to this day. He doesn’t even believe you said yes and meant it. But here you are, about to walk out on the path of flower petals to the song you both picked out that reminded you of your first everything. Seeing you, god he’d break down. And he wouldn’t even care about everyone seeing. Because he knows he banked the prettiest and most perfect person on the island and he wants everyone to know just how you make him feel. He’s wrapped around you finger. He’s so madly inlove with you. And today is the day he finally gets the chance to admit it. Everything. Everythings he’s felt and thought the past few years, he gets to tell you and everyone else. He was ready, but also scared.

The tables were inside, all decorated with flowers and the finest gold cutlery. Everyone would have a meal that fit them, preferably their favourite meals. Because Rafe doesn’t care for money and wants only the best for everyone on your special day. He’d pay for 10 chefs that could cook up the best meals and obviously there’d be rows of tables full of picky bits for the kids.

You’d have your first dance alone, separate from the rest of your friends and family. Youd want it to be private and intimate. Going outside to enjoy your time alone in the quiet and sway side to side together as you just look into each others eyes with nothing but absolute pure love. Neither of you have ever felt like this before but you’d never exchange it for anything. You both knew this was forever, and you couldn’t wait to move on to the next big step.

For my nsfw girlies, afterwards you’d get a private plane to your honeymoon. Before you’d share the dirtiest sex known to man. On the plane? Yes. On the beach. Yes? you wouldn’t stop. Because you were both insanely lovestruck and couldn’t keep your hands off each other. This was for life. And you couldn’t help but keep your hands and eyes on the hottest man in the world. He was all yours. And you wanted everyone to know that. You wanted HIM to know that.

[redvanillabee]

instead of instagram reels that go 'hey bridesmaids this is how to ProperlyTM fluff the bride's dress' we go 'hey brides if you want your wedding to be 100% picture perfect you go hire a production manager and leave your poor friends alone'

[hansolmates]

here comes the bride, all dressed in pride

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“As if you care.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How did you two even meet?” 

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

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

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

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

“Of course,” you raise your glass.

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

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

“That’s not what I meant.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t ask questions.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How was the walk over?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It… was mildly cute.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So what’s the plan?” 

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

“And why is that?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, this is going to be interesting. 

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

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

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

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

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

“I do like Valorant.” 

“He likes pork belly.”

“I do like pork belly.” 

“He’s ripped as hell.” 

“I am ripped as hell.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay yes one bad example—” 

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

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

“See? It’s a mutual decision.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Right,” you answer reluctantly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Only if you want to.”

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

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

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

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

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

“But, Namjoon got us a table—” 

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

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

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

“Sounds good.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Pray tell.” 

“She’s jealous of you.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, but compared to Doyeon—” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What was that for?” he asks breathlessly. 

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

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

“We’re in Vegas, baby!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Am I interrupting a tender family moment?” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, really?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I thought you were into that bridesmaid.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But this is different!” 

“But Doyeon’s family!” 

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

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

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

“Deal.” 

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, I will.” 

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

“Excuse me—” 

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

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

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

“Not if it’s Aunt Lillian.” 

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

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

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

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

“Is it something urgent?” 

“Well, no but—” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He shrugs, “Looked around.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I wanna come!” 

“Nope! Jungkook called it a date.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then more kisses?” 

“Then more kisses.” 

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

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

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

Jimin: what, a date with your fake date?

Hobi: jeon jungcock? 👀👀

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

Hobi: i’ve heard things in college… 

Taehyung: u are all gross and i hate u 

Taehyung: but so am i bc im very curious 

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

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

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

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

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

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

You: lool, why do u look constipated 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Because it’s tradition!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jungkook loves your family. 

(Except Doyeon.)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks, Jungkookie.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The morning of the wedding, you wake up alone. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your phone beeps conveniently, displaying Jungkook’s name. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Or? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[reilliane]

Hi Rei! (May I call you that?)

So I read your work Intoxicate (Diluc) in A03 (not my first time reading aha!) while listening to this playlist titled "lovesick w diluc ragnvindr", and oh gosh it fits 😭 reading Intoxicate at the part when Gracie Abrams and Ashe's part hurt me so much cause i can feel MC pain😭

"When he came back, he’s no longer the boy you knew—this argument with him just solidifies that further. You feel defeated. Lost.

And there’s nothing more to salvage than broken dreams and fractured pasts."

This moment just proves that no matter how she argues and fights for herself, he will never listen😭😭💔

And then,

"The gold ring on your finger—one you’ve dreamed of when you were a child—has zero value. Although rings are meant to symbolize an eternity together with him, in truth, you are alone."

thE RINGG OH GOD THE RINGGG .... I wonder if even afterall that, she still wore her ring

I can physically feel the ache and pain MC endured..... diluc doesn't deserve her at all😭 also the part when he has the audacity to expect that MC's smiles are for him, I just want to kick him😭 (it fits the song Fool for you by Zayn in this playlist) honestly what was he thinking?! He practically destroyed her soul and he severed the trust himself 😭 I just want to baby MC at this point and I'm willing to be her bridesmaid when she marries Thoma lololol 😂

I have questions tho:

1. did MC divorces him and go to Inazuma w Thoma? 🥺 I'm rooting for him aha ha!

2. Does Thoma know MC married to Diluc?

3. Does he knows she's unhappy? I'm assuming he does cause of the letters😭 poor Mc.... she literally have no one to talk to... I wonder why she didn't talk to Eula 😭 maybe they could have been best friends

Also here's the link of the Spotify if you're curious😂, though the playlist maker did bittersweet ending with the part of One Last Dance by Us The Duo lolol

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7Cz7EqqKcv4AZ9UppePvNS?si=qqzWJpkpQxeARSIiIF1sAg&utm_source=copy-link

P/S: I saw the line "marriage of mercy" and now the word mercy scares me 🥲

yesyesyoumaycallmethatlovely

and oh boy, intoxicate. cough thoma mr steal-yo-wife JSHJDHSAK

now, oh my, reading the lyrics .. they really fit! they remind me of mc's struggle :')) poor sweet mc all she ever wanted was to rekindle the good things she had with diluc but noooo 😭

shedeservesthomadoesntshe-

and to answer your questions~

it wasn't explicitly stated if MC did divorce him, but in an optional bonus ending (read: thoma ahoy!), she shows up without the ring on her finger :')

regarding eula's case, it's mentioned that MC seldom leaves the manor because of the ostracization and the people's awful treatment of her. it would've been a little difficult to see eula too given she's in the KoF, but they certainly are acquainted :)

[formenis]

Hi there! I can to request a one shot where the reader is jealous because BB has been looking at someone too much or something like that. Please and thank you!

Yes, of course dear~ I love writing B ♥

.

.

TITLE: SIGHT

pairing: Beyond Birthday x jealous!gn!reader

|| warning: major spoilers of the novel "The Los Angeles BB murder cases" / jealousy / slightly yandere behaviour / a not very healthy relationship ||

When B left the Wammy's House on May 2002 for the States he felt a bit out of place: he was alone in a foreign and far country. Luckily that feeling lasted less than five minutes once at the Los Angeles airport. He had only one goal in mind: to surpass L, the greatest detective in the world, as the "World's Greatest Criminal," giving him a case that B hoped he would be unable to solve.

June just started few days ago when B's life changed in a way he would never imagined. He was in a beauty store, he needed to buy a new foundation and few eye pencils in order to maintain his heavy mask of L's lookalike. B was waiting for his turn at the cash register and he was the only boy there.

All the girls (and women) were secretly looking at him trying to understand if those products were for him or for a female partner or relative. And maybe the oldest ones were mentally insulting him because "boys should not wear makeup". As if B read those thoughts he turned his head towards those women to glare at them: his dull black eyes always made people look away in fear. A voice, however, distracted him.

«Sir? It's your turn»

B looked in front of him once again and noticed the cashier was right so he walked closer to them, scattering the products on the conveyor belt. The cashier, someone with H/C hair and S/C skin, smiled kindly at him while doing whatever a cashier did, B didn’t care and looked away just to read people's names above their heads.

«Sir? If you're interested, we have a lighter shade of this foundation»

At those words B turned to look at the cashier one more time. Since L was really pale, lighter was better.

«Really? I saw nothing at the display cabinet» B replied with a raised eyebrow but the cashier couldn’t see it since his face was partially hidden by a cap.

«It's because we hadn’t the time to organise it but it is available. Do you want to see it?»

«Yes»

The E/C coloured cashier nodded at him and whispered something to a girl next to them. In few instants that girl opened the register next to them so the other clients could pay for their shopping there.

In the meantime, B thought about his plan: everything was perfectly set (the crime scene, the Wara Ningyo, the victim's name and his cover), nothing will go wrong. He smirked at the perfection of his project, he couldn’t be more satisfied.

«There it is, sir. Do you want to try it?» the cashier came back, in their hands a tiny bottle of foundation way lighter than the one B chose before. The once L's successor nodded and extended his right hand so the cashier could apply a small quantity of foundation on it, with circular motions.

«The ideal is to test the product on the side of your jaw but I believe this shade suits you well, sir. It's almost invisible on your hand»

B, however, wasn’t focused on the foundation in that moment. When the cashier's fingers touched his hand he felt a strange sensation. It was like…flames, as if he touched the fire with bare hands. He wanted…to feel it…once again…

«You're right, I think I'll take this» B masked his emotions with a fake smile and the cashier nodded at his reply. While they were busy with his products, B's eyes couldn’t look away from his right hand. The foundation was still there and he caressed it with the thumb. Something about that simple gesture upset him…in a positive way, maybe?

«It's $22.13, sir»

Without saying another word, B payed for his shopping and left the beauty shop. Before leading back home, he glanced inside the shop. He could read above the cashier's head two words: Y/N L/N. And then a date.

"Your death is so far from now, Y/N…you're lucky".

.

.

.

It was August 2002 and Believe Bridesmaid was already dead. B was rather satisfied about his job, nobody interrupted him during the murderer. Not even when he re-dressed the victim after the post-mortem mutilation.

Something, however, didn’t go as he planned. This "something" was Y/N. A part of B's brain yelled things like "Don’t distract yourself!" or "Focus on L not them"; but the other half pushed him to know Y/N more. He went in that beauty shop as much as he could even though he didn’t buy anything.

Despite his unique personality, B and Y/N started to get along. Poor Y/N ignored the fact that more than once B followed them home and he even spied on them different times.

«Ryuzaki! Did you hear?» an afraid Y/N appeared from the service entrance of their beauty shop. It was a sort of habit for B (or Ryuzaki as he introduced to Y/N) to join them after work.

«Hear what, Y/N?» he asked while putting his hands in the pockets of his faded jeans. Even though he always walked hunched over he was still taller than Y/N.

«A famous writer died!» they put the shop's keys in their bag and started to walk back home with Ryuzaki beside them.

«Yes, I heard that. It happened few weeks ago, right?»

Y/N nodded, they seemed quite shocked. «I read all his books, I can't believe someone killed him»

«Yeah…Los Angeles is becoming a dangerous place»

.

.

.

August 4th was close and B had to kill again. He managed to realise all the riddles and the three Wara Ningyo he had to leave on the scene. However, something was missing: the victim itself. He decided he would take advantage of a walk he wanted to take with Y/N. They needed a break from work and B suggested to spend some time at the park.

Once surrounded by peace and trees, however, Y/N noticed something strange on Ryuzaki. Something that made them…boil with jealousy.

Since the moment they met Ryuzaki at the beauty shop, Y/N felt something for that strange "un-private" detective. They didn’t care about his peculiar behaviour or particular taste about food: his deep black eyes, the way his thin lips curved in a smile each time he saw them and his intellect…he knew so many things, Y/N wondered where he studied all that.

Ah, poor Y/N. They were completely unaware of Ryuzaki's real self. They knew the pale, slouched "un-private" detective and not the bloodthirsty and ferocious serial killer.

They admitted they started to feel…attracted by the man. Y/N didn’t know it was simple friendship or…something else.

Back to the park, Y/N noticed a strange attitude of Ryuzaki. Since the two of them started to walk towards the park, the man was staring intensely at all women (and even men) that passed next to them. It looked like he was searching for someone in particular.

«Are you alright Ryuzaki?»

The un-private detective turned towards Y/N and smiled. «Yes Y/N» and then he came back at staring at people as nothing happened…as if Y/N wasn’t there with him.

He looked at people down on with such intensity that Y/N had the feeling he was imagining something in his head. He even smirked from time to time.

«I wish you would look at me in the same way…» Y/N said in a whisper.

«I don’t know what that was about, but I love seeing you all riled up» at that answer Y/N turned towards him. Did he hear them?

Ryuzaki was looking at them with curiosity, a thumb over his lips. The wind messed up his (already ruffled) hair and his weird sitting position - with his knees pulled up against his chest- made him bigger than usual.

Y/N's cheeks turned pink and looked away embarrassed. Geez, Ryuzaki heard them…

They were so focused on their gaffe that they didn’t notice the man moved an arm around their shoulder in a cute attempt to hug them. That gesture took Y/N aback but hugged him back almost immediately, sensing the intoxicating scent of strawberry jam of his clothes.

«I would never reserve that kind of look on you, Y/N. You're far too…» and B paused, trying to find the right word to not to make them suspicious about his behaviour. «…important for me»

Y/N silently sighed in relief and stood trapped in the hug for a while. They were unaware, however, that B found the person he was searching for: Quarter Queen, August 4th 2002. At that sight he grasped with force at Y/N's shoulder…finally, his second victim.

Y/N interpreted that grasp as a gesture of Ryuzaki to remark what he said before, that they were important to him so they didn’t notice the strange, dangerous look on his face.

«Trust me, Y/N…you don't wish to be looked like that by me»

[whatdoesshedotothem]

Wednesday 11 July 1832

7

11

rain in the night likely for more soon tho’ fair just now at 7 ½ a.m. and F67 ½° - out at 8 20 – at Pickersgills’, now to be called the Park farm – home at 9 ¼ - breakfast in the little room in ½ hour during which a heavy shower and out again at 10 5 – to the top of Stony lane (Wellroyde) no workmen – sauntered home – treading down grass in the Dolt wood – Joseph Bottomley came to me, the man who did the mason work at Mytholm mill – it is he is to do the road for James Smith but George Robinson not at home and not expected till Saturday – sent the man to H-x for a stamped receipt and came in at 12 20 from about one to four and a half interrupted only a minute or two by on Bottomleys’ return at 2 gave him a check on Rawsons and wrote out the receipt and he signed it being, as he said but a poor hand at writing -  wrote a full ½ sheet and 1 page and ends of envelope to Lady S- ‘Thank you very much, my dear Lady Stuart, for your so kind letter which did me a great deal of good, in making me forget myself, to think of you and dear Vere - the end of this month is almost upon us. I hardly expected quite so soon the happy day to her, the doubtful one to you, and only wish it was possible to run away with you as soon as it is all over, and you feel at liberty to think of amusing yourself. But it is quite in vain to talk of wishes. I know not when I shall be able to leave here; and however much it would delight me to see Vere’s happiness, I must give up all hope of it now. But it is very good of you dear Lady Stuart to ask me. I can quite well understand all you say and all you feel, and shall think of you very often - yet, tho’ your loss will certainly be great, I hope and believe, you will get over it better than you expect - you will never be alone - everybody’s kindness and attention will be doubled; and I shall be very anxious to hear, that, in this instance, as in many others, the anticipation was worse than the reality - amid the almost innumerable people you will have to write to, do not forget me; for I am sure my anxiety about you will be as great as anybody’s’ - have heard nothing from Vere about her plans for the winter - ‘what shall I do about the coffee pot?..... there is no chance of my being in London to choose it myself. I should be so much obliged, if you and Lady Stuart de Rothsay, who also knows of the promise, would be so very good as do this for me. I shall see it someday, and am quite sure of liking your taste better than my own. I only limit you to not less than twenty pounds’ ...... ‘How nice the dear girls will look as bridesmaids! Do not, dear Lady Stuart, be so unsettled and so uneasy - you know not how much I think of you - whatever may be the real state of the case I am sure Vere would not leave you far, unless she herself believed it necessary - your liking Donald so much

SH:7/ML/E/15/0091

is a great comfort’ - mention our alarm for fear one of the women servants (Cordingley) was beginning in the cholera on Monday - ‘immediate medical advice and strong antispasmodics relieved her, and she was well enough to leave her bed this morning’. Mr James Wortley sure of his election - ask when the Hamiltons  are expected........’adieu dear Lady Stuart I am very anxious about you, and very truly and affectionately yours A Lister’ then wrote the following 3pp. of ¼ sheet to Miss H- ‘Shibden hall Wednesday 11 July 1832 – I suppose, my dearest Vere, from Lady Stuarts’ letter, that you are waiting to tell me the day – It is to be the end of this month! two or three weeks sooner than I had expected – never too soon to do well – never too soon to be happy – may this greatest event of their life be the most fortunate – may your own, and the most sanguine hopes of all your friends be more than realized – may he whom you have chosen be no less happy than yourself, and may the blessings of heaven fall thickly on you both! you know how delighted I should be to see your happiness – but that cannot be so soon as the end of this month, or the next, or perhaps, if your plans be foreign, for many months must come – I know not when to hope that my affairs and my aunts’ anxieties about them, will let me leave here; but you will guess my intention to run away as soon as I can – I am nearly as much occupied as you, but you have all the advantage in kind – so it ought to be, and so my heart would have it be – Say something for me to Donald, and believe me very affectionately yours AL’ – I am satisfied with this and it was written quickly enough it was my letter to Lady S. took me so long ‘tis 5 ¼ just as I have written to here – then till 6 10 wrote 3 pages and ends to M- written in much better apparent spirits than my last - hoping to see her yet fearing - begging to hear again as soon as she could - should not burn her letters ‘till..... you are here again?’ - said that on looking over old packet of letters one of Louisa’s had turned such I little thought of her inditing - had I remembered it, it might have change the whole tenor of events - said that as she, M-, observed I did not think my spirits would run away with me - but her cheering had done me good - I did not look far from the world that peace it was ‘not intended to give’ but for some of the lesser good things it was intended to give I was disappointed to seek in right earnest and if a diligent search could profit me (an why not) I might succeed one of these days - she trusted the cares of the world would soon pass away ‘yes! Mary! but not all - let some remain to form the zest of happiness for ‘he never knew pleasure who never knew pain’ you see how I have profited by your instructions - a green Alp near Grenoble has been depict on my mind for some time. In days gone by the Crimea used to be my theme - now I come nearer home’  - Dinner at 6 20 – at 7 sent off my letter to the ‘honourable Lady Stuart Whitehall’ enclosed my note to ‘Miss Hobart’ and undercover to ‘Lord Stuart de Rothesay at the Earl of Hardwickes’ 3 St. James’ square London’ – and my letter to ‘Mrs. Lawton, Mrs. Belcombes’, Minster-court, York’ – Holt called at 6 ¾ and left me the stone and coal plans that he had got from Mr. Briggs, and then went to the meeting at Mytholm, to settle about the coals – brought down Letter index to today, and made out rough draft of index of the 1st 13 days of March last till 8 ¾ - my aunt and I went into the other room at 9 ¼ - skimmed over the courier – came to my room at 10 5 – heavy shower between 9 and 10 and a little rain between 1 and 2 – afterwards fine afternoon and evening – F66 ½° at 10 ¼ p.m.

[bumbershots]

THE AGE OF THE UNDERSTATEMENT

Author’s note: Hello! So last winter I spent it binge watching so many Mexican soap operas, A LOT of old winter Olympics footage, and Harry Styles music videos so I came up with this idea, but didn’t really did anything until I was writing the one shot for the playlist challenge and the characters sort of came to life. I wrote the whole idea for every chapter so I don’t slack (like with my other story lol) anyway. Here’s the result. Enjoy! (:

Story page ★ Word count: 2.6K

Chapter one: Time

It’s snowing outside. Small, thin flakes that can be easily mistaken for hail, until they stick to the window and melt into the glass. Selena wants nothing more than to track the damp streak with one of her fingers, a bad habit she keeps from when she was a kid —one of many. She refrains from doing so because duty calls, there are a minimum of ten things that she was asked to help with right now. She makes her rounds across the wedding venue, instructing the string quartet where to place the chairs, confirming for the hundredth time that the bride’s father is not sneaking cupcakes out of the catering team or trying to have one last pre-wedding conversation with her fiancé.

In another situation she would’ve delegated the tasks to Minako and Paloma or any of the other bridesmaids. But Selena needed to stay busy, just so her thoughts don’t draw a mindmap, a list of everything that went wrong in her life for the past three weeks. A complete disaster, one bad choice after another one. A mistake on her side, a mistake on his, all of them domino-stumbling into each other, where the only possible outcome was to try to go back to how things were before she committed the first fault.

The good and bad thing about Selena, is that she’s also very efficient, fifteen minutes later she is done with her duties and is dismissed by Maki, the bride herself. But this free time more than a blessing is a curse that leaves her dwelling and all of a sudden she is aware of how alone she is feeling. Selena is alone, literally and figuratively, she is so unused to it. For someone who grew up in a big family, surrounded by aunts, grandmothers, cousins, nieces and nephews —some of them not even related by blood. She used to be so comfortable in her solitude, when she first moved to Tokyo. But it somehow feels weird when it is not self-inflicted. She stands in the empty corridor, feeling lost, before she decides to find the only person who won’t make her feel alone, whose presence is always a silver lining in her life, and who is apparently the only person that she will keep coming back to over and over again.

She finds Viktor going over his speech in the car park, he is leaning against his car, his brow knitting deep in thought, eyes scanning quickly the paper before him. He looks seconds away from giving up his task —or the wedding altogether. But he won’t actually leave, because he cares about Maki too much, just like all the other guests. Selena knows that although Viktor is not a very romantic person, he will at some point in his lecture, make the bride cry with whatever unexpected analogy he’d come up with.

It’s freezing, colder than the usual, even for a December morning. Selena pulls her coat closer to her body and rubs her hands together, another poor attempt to channel her anxiety to another part of her body.

Her companion doesn’t miss it, but all he says, after folding the paper he had in half and a long exhale, is, “I’ve always wanted to attend a summer wedding, right before the sunset and as the ceremony takes place so does the sun in the horizon… and the twilight comes in view and seals the couple’s love with its last beaming rays.” Viktor lends his scarf to a now shivering Selena. “When it’s your turn, promise me you’ll have a summer wedding, at the end of June?”

Selena’s first thought in response to this is not the discomfort she was expecting, but actually a quick flash of what her long time friend just described, it seems ridiculous when she is too certain that something like that will never happen in her life. Not when she doesn’t even have anything close to a stable relationship in her present.

“Why would you bestow upon me such expectation or needing to marry a man… someone, anyone, if ever. It is very sexist of you—”

“Please, shut the hell up.” Viktor unbuttons his coat, completely unbothered by this weather, a mark of the Russians.

Weirdly enough, Selena does shut the hell up. Something so rare that has Viktor going still. From her periphery, Selena sees her friend stay quiet, probably pondering what he is about to ask next, because he knows that he only has one chance to do it right, that’s how Selena is about things that bother her. If you are unable to articulate the appropriate question, she won’t say anything.

“Where’s Harry?” says Viktor. “Is he charming the string quartet already?”

“We had a fight.” Selena breathes out, glad to get that off her chest, the mist from her breath curls upwards until it’s undistinguishable. “I don’t think he will come.”

“Why?”

Because it was a big fight, an ugly one. She thinks but doesn’t say, still Viktor can tell and he scoffs.

“God what a dick.”

Supposedly Viktor was friends with both Harry and Selena, but it doesn’t really feel like that for him, not after the incident last week. Not when Harry was acting jealous every time Viktor was around. He is not one to romanticise that behaviour and call it love. He sees it as a red flag, one that he would immediately discuss with Selena, but not now when she looks like she’s attending a funeral and not a wedding. Viktor and Selena share a lot of things and they have planted plenty of questionable habits on each other, but beating around the bush was not one of them. But her vulnerability can be felt in the freezing air, in every misshaped snowflake and Viktor studies her, not liking the apprehension on her face.

“But he will come,” says Viktor.

Selena lets out a bitter laugh, refusing to look up. “Why would he? He doesn’t even know the bride or groom.”

Viktor leans away from his car, before he slips out of his coat.

“I would,” he says, wrapping her in the garment carefully, “because of the cute girl who asked me to, and the free food.”

◇

All flights were postponed due to the snow. Harry laughs, knowing it is completely ridiculous that the moment he is looking to get out of Japan, a blizzard comes out of nowhere to prevent it. As if there’s someone up above, directing his acts, trying to get him to attend the wedding he was dressed up for and invited to only a couple of days ago. It’s unfair, and he feels uncomfortable to be stranded at the airport. Harry is tempted to call Selena, knowing that she won’t deny him the chance to stay at her place until his flight can take off the next morning.

There’s no way he is calling her, not after the fight from the other day. All the things she said filled his head to the brim and it had been constantly dripping unkind thoughts about her. He decides to just wait at the airport, a bench can’t be the worst place to sleep tonight.

But a tap on his shoulder saved him from what would’ve been a really dreadful day and night. Harry finds himself face to face with the last person he expected to see today in Japan.

“I’m going to give you a moment alone, so you can sit with what you’re feeling. When I return we will talk about it.”

There’s a knot on his chest, but he nods. “Yes, thank you Sam.”

As soon as Sam has disappeared upstairs, Harry goes to stand by the window, and stares at what is probably one of the nicest views of Tokyo. He wanted to yell, cry until his voice ran out and his eyes were so swollen that he would have trouble opening them for the next few days. He could scream and Sam wouldn’t hold it against him, but just one look at the city before him was a reminder that he was not home. It’s one thing to have a much needed breakdown in his own flat under the watchful eye of his friend and bandmate Mitch and another to disrupt the peace of Sam’s loft. It’s one and a half floors that Harry has associated with calm and security from the moment he first stepped into it three weeks ago, and while he had never played any part to this, he’d rather have a crisis at the airport where everyone can see and judge him than to threaten the tranquility so shamelessly.

He rests his forehead on the window and breathes like that, counting and counting until he hears Sam return. He expects her to join him but she continues to the kitchen and Harry just follows with his gaze.

“What do you want for breakfast?” Sam asks, tying up a black apron, standing in her pristine white kitchen. Harry wants to tell her that nothing too fancy, that he’s not even hungry. But he can’t say anything.

It all feels so foreign, watching Sam cook him breakfast, fighting with Selena, being in Japan. It all piled up on Harry’s shoulders until he couldn’t carry it any longer. It dawns on him that he doesn’t know what he really wants.

“I’ll make an omelette.” She concludes after his silence.

If Harry believed more in the strengths of his relationships, he would say that they both find comfort in each other. Sam being the only person who didn’t get invited to the wedding and Harry being the only one that shouldn’t have. But he doesn’t know her that well, all he knows is what Selena told him that night before they arrived at her place for dinner.

Well she was dating Maki last year, but they broke up. She had carelessly said and for a moment it unsettled Harry, how little she cared about her friend’s feelings. They don’t like to talk about it, so we don’t. Boundaries, something that everyone in their circle seemed to have. It’s the reason why he was so surprised at Sam’s offer to stay at her place until his flight is rescheduled.

Ten minutes later, he is summoned to the living room area. “I was debating whether to ask why you are dressed for a funeral,” says Sam, walking back to the kitchen counter to retrieve their mugs. It’s almost lunch time, but she leaves a mug of steaming black coffee in front of Harry. Then she nods at where Harry left the black jacket of his two-piece suit draped over the arm of the sofa. “But I remembered about the winter wonderland wedding you’ll both be attending.”

Both.

Harry sits up over the old peeling couch, he crosses his legs under him and Sam takes the one-seater to his left, eyes sharp on how Harry crinkles his pants.

“We don’t have to talk about the wedding.”

“You seem to be under the impression that you talking about the wedding will unsettle me but I can assure you that is not the case.”

Harry’s eyes widened. “No, no,” he says. “It just seems unnecessary, whatever issue I have is not related to the wedding.”

Sam levels him a flat look. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, Harry. But you’re terrible at explaining what bothers you.”

“Yeah, that is true.” Harry takes a big chunk of omelette and stuffs it into his mouth. A childhood habit to keep his mouth shut. He watches Sam take a spreader knife to push some jam across the fresh loaf of bread she stopped to get on her way home. “I just wanted to avoid talking about the wedding, the attendees, what happens after the wedding.”

“Just to spare my feelings?”

“Yes, because I know I would feel uncomfortable upon hearing how my ex is getting married this afternoon—”

“Harry,” says Sam. “I don’t feel uncomfortable.”

How can you not? He thinks. Having finished almost all of the omelette, Harry resorts to spreading two thick layers of jam onto an open-faced slice of bread, before folding it in half and shoves it into his mouth. “I can’t look at Selena in the eye ever again anyway.” He said, as he chewed.

“Why?” She is slower in her rituals, more careful as she spreads jam to the very tips of her slice.

“I just can’t.” Harry swallows. The bread is soft and fluffy, the jam has the perfect balance of sweet and citrusy but it still doesn’t go down as easily. “Because it’s such a mess, I feel terrible about everything right now and there’s a chance I go and pass on my bad mood to the attendants. Why would I turn a wedding into a funeral? I can’t get away with that, I’m no Hugh Grant. I don’t know if I can look at Selena in the eye and she’s the reason I was invited. She probably doesn’t even want me there or anywhere anymore. And it’s fine that she doesn’t. It’s her brother’s wedding who also might not want me there. I just don’t even know how to exist anymore. I don’t want to carry all the feelings I have for her back to England where they will surely rot along what’s left of my heart. I wish I was dressed for a funeral, mine if possible. I spent all fucking morning tying up this tie—”

“Breathe,” says Sam. Her knife is hesitant, waiting for Harry to actually breathe, before it is back to sliding smoothly across the bread. Harry knows she’s studying him, trying to ask him about the argument he had with Selena, most likely preparing a speech about why Maki or anyone in that family would want him there. “Have another slice of bread.” Sam doesn’t push him to talk about that or anything, they finish their meal in silence and it gives Harry some time to collect his thoughts for the first time today.

He helps with the washing up because however far away from home, he can’t shake off the manners his mother taught him. As he finishes, the clock by the wall announces that the time to make a choice is running out. Harry can stay here and wait for an update on his flight. He can go to a hotel and thank Sam for her kindness. He can leave his stuff here and figure out how to get to the wedding by train, bus or even scooter. He has time to decide and it occurs to him that it doesn’t apply just for today but any other for that matter.

It’s strange how for the past couple of weeks he felt like he was living towards a deadline, that any minute he spent was some sort of borrowed time. Harry doesn’t feel any of that frustration as Sam wipes clean the coffee table, who’s methodical about even this, each movement measured and easy to follow.

The loft is quiet, nothing but Harry’s level, unhurried breathing in the space around them. Sam finishes her task and focuses her gaze on him, unfaltering for a second before she turns away.

“Grab your jacket. We’re heading out.”

“What?” Harry is surprised, but he goes to do as he’s told, frowning at his luggage by the door.

“You can leave that in here.” Sam slips on her jacket in one smooth motion, shoes slipping on her feet easily. “We’re going for a drive.”

Harry fixes the collar of his shirt. “Where to?”

“That depends.”

“On what?”

“On the things you choose to tell me during the drive.” Sam props open the front door and Harry follows right behind.

But he is not rushing this time, whatever choices he does make today will be the right ones, whether he regrets them or not will be something to look back on, years from now. But as he climbs into the passenger seat of Sam’s black convertible, the city passes by his side. Harry is sure that for now, he has all the time in the world.

△△△

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[freddie-weaselbee]

E2: The One in New York City//F.W.

Series Summary: FRIENDS but with Harry Potter characters after Hogwarts graduation, trying to figure out their lives and relationships. Non Voldy AU. Begins around the end of FRIENDS season 4 with The Wedding and semi follows plots in season 5. 

Pairing(s): Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader, Romione, Ron x Lavender, Hinny, Georgelina

Warnings: Language, mentions of sex, planned pregnancy

Summary: Years after Hermione came back into their lives, the gang finds themselves traveling to New York City for the wedding of the one and only Ronald Weasley. As tensions rise and feelings are revealed, the group has to take on New York and hope for the best. 

Word Count: 3.6k

A/N: A little taste of the story:  “I’d pee on you any day of the week.” “What the hell did I just walk into?” Message me to join the series or general taglist!

May 2004

“Guys, hurry up! The flight leaves in four hours! It could take time to get a taxi, there could be traffic, the plane could leave early! When you get to New York there could be a line at customs, come on!” Hermoine Granger was racing through the flat of Fred and George Weasley, the one above their infamous joke shop, Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. She grabbed clothing from their drawers and tossed it haphazardly into suitcases, while the twins in question were lounged out on their sofa observing the scene. 

You sat wedged between the two boys, leaning your head against Fred’s shoulder with your legs draped across George’s lap. You laughed as Hermione was practically hysterical about getting everything ready, even though she wouldn’t even be going to America. 

“Good thing she’s not gonna be on the flight,” Fred whispered into your ear. “A six hour trip to New York? That’s a lot of Hermione.”

Smiling you turned to look at Fred who was holding something in his hand. “What’ve you got there?”

He grinned cheekily and gave you a better look. “Condoms, Y/N! You never know what American hotties I might meet overseas.”

Rolling your eyes you turned to George, who was giving you the same grin. “And I suppose you’re just as prepared as your brother?”

“Of course! Y’know, I feel bad for poor Ronniekins, getting himself all tied down to one woman. Me and Fred, we know how to live, isn’t that right mate?”

“You said it.” You sighed and settled into Fred even more, relaxing for a few minutes before Hermione would drag you all to the airport and you and Harry would be stuck trying to teach the Weasleys how Muggle planes worked. 

There was an audible pop as Ron apparated into the room, standing off by the kitchen. 

“Hey!” he greeted, causing you to sit up from your comfortable position wrapped in Fred’s arm and go meet your friend with a hug. 

“Hey.” You squeezed him tight, noticing how his nerves had overtaken him. 

“Are you ready yet?” he asked, fidgeting with his wand. 

Before you could respond Hermione came barging out of George’s bedroom and threw two suitcases onto the twins’ laps with what could only be described as superhuman strength. “She’s ready. You have the tickets?”

“Harry and Gin do, they’ll be here any second.” The only current couple of the group, and an engaged one at that, suddenly arrived with another loud pop, startling Fred who had begun to count his condoms to make sure he had enough. 

“Hey big brother!” Ginny hugged Ron with enthusiasm, but not as much as Harry showed as he threw himself onto his best friend. 

“You’re getting married Ron!”

“I know!”

They stayed wrapped in their hug as they jumped around and around, George clapping along and laughing at the duo. 

“Don’t know why Lavender would want to marry a specky git like you,” said the younger twin, “but at least we get to travel to the states for it.”

“And have wedding food,” said Fred. 

“Oh and you can’t forget the hot bridesmaids, right boys?” you questioned jokingly. 

They shared a mischievous look. “Never.”

A loud bell sounded through the loft, signaling that someone had come in. 

“That must be Luna!” Ginny exclaimed. She sprinted down the stairs and wrapped the blonde girl in a hug, being gentle as to not crush her or her pregnant belly. 

“Hello Ginny, how are you?”

“Never better! Thanks again for offering to help Hermione watch the apartments and oversee the shop and employees. Ron really wishes you could make it to the wedding, but seeing as you’re about to burst--”

Luna interrupted her old friend with a soft laugh. She was 8 months pregnant with twin boys, and was left home alone for a few weeks while her husband dealt with a work issue in Eastern Asia. Which meant she had plenty of free time to make sure things were running smoothly in London while her friends were overseas. 

The two girls were joined by the rest of the gang who had been pushed down the stairs by a frantic Hermione. “Get going, all of you! You’re going to miss your flight.”

“New York baby!” The twins had jumped down from one of the landings, somehow managing not to injure themselves. Although they were now 26 they were never without their childlike energy. 

“I’m walking here!” cried Fred in a horrid New York accent. 

“Yee haw, cowboy!” said George, doing a little cowboy dance.

You sighed and slapped your head with your hand. “Okay, cause that’s not gonna get annoying.”

They ignored you and continued with their yelling and dancing, dragging as much luggage as they could out the front door of the shop. 

“Well,” said Ron, “we’re all here and ready. I guess we should get going!” Harry and Ginny gave Luna one last goodbye as they followed you out to the alley, leaving only Ron, Hermione, and Luna left in the shop. 

“So, we’re off,” said Ron, a little awkwardly. He and Hermione had a bit of a rough past, having dated on and off for the past few years. But that was all behind them now, and she was happy that he had reconnected with their friend Lavender from Hogwarts and had fallen in love. 

“Have fun, Ron,” replied the bushy-haired girl. 

“Thanks,” he said, giving his friend a tight hug. “Ugh, I can’t believe you’re not gonna be there!”

Hermione sighed and pulled back. “Oh I know, I’m sorry.”

“So-so come! Why don’t you come?”

“What?”

“To New York!” Ron was holding Hermione’s hands and jumping up and down. “Come to New York, please? It’ll mean so much to me.”

Hermione hesitated for a moment. She wanted to go, to have a great trip with her friends and visit the historical places she’d read so much about. But she didn’t have it in her to watch her ex-boyfriend get married to someone else. 

“Yeah, well, I gotta work, I’m sorry. The Ministry is really up my arse these days, pardon my language.”

“Mione, this is my wedding,” he said, giving her his best puppy dog eyes. 

You stuck your head back through the door and called out to them. “Alright, y’know what? Now we really are late, let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!”

Ron sighed and let go of his friend, grabbing his suitcase before heading out the door. “I’ll see you when I get back, Mione. Bye Luna!”

Luna and Hermione both gave small waves as Ron pulled the door shut. A resounding “New York, baby” could be heard even from deep inside the shop, and Hermione giggled as her friends made their way to the London airport. 

----------------------------------------

“Alright,” said Ginny as you all stepped out into the streets of New York City. “Harry and I will help the groom and bride-to-be get everything set up for their big day. Which means you, Y/N, get the honor of babysitting my older brothers.”

“Ginny I can’t handle them all by myself! We’ve been here for less than 5 minutes and look at what they’re doing already.” You all turned to look at the ginger twins, who were standing on top of a map of the city and staring down at it. 

“What is going on with you two?” you asked, but you were quickly silenced as Fred placed his finger on your lips. 

“We’re concentrating. We went in the map so we can figure out where we are.” He kept his finger there until you finally removed it and looked at the map they had made, complete with little pop ups of all the important places they wanted to see. 

“If you see a little version of me in there, kill it.” Harry laughed at your quip and grabbed Ginny’s hand, waving goodbye as the couple and Ron made their way to meet Lavender and her family. 

“We got it!” screamed the twins. They stepped out of the map and started walking right, on to their first tourist destination. “Here we go.”

“Okay, listen,” you said catching up to them, “we’re not gonna have to walk this way the entire time are we?”

Fred shushed you and George groaned. “Y/N, you made me lose it!”

George put the map down and stood back on it. “A lot harder when the map doesn’t change specifically for you and show you exactly where you are, huh?” you asked, referencing the parchment the twins used for years back in Hogwarts. 

They ignored you and took off down the street again, their long legs moving so fast you had to almost sprint in order to keep up the pace. This was going to be a long day. 

------------------------------

Meanwhile Harry, Ron, and Ginny had made it to the Brown’s apartment in New York. Although Lavender was raised in England and attended Hogwarts, her extended family lived in the States and her parents moved there after she graduated. The apartment was rather large, but that was no surprise as the Browns were a wealthy family. 

“Oh Won Won!” Ron was greeted at the door with a vibrant Lavender throwing herself into his arms. Ron laughed and spun her around, giving her a quick kiss before finally setting her down. 

“Hey Lavender, I missed you.” He smiled warmly at his fiancee, soon to be his wife. After Padma left him right before he was going to propose years ago, Ron decided not to waste any time in popping the question once he and Lavender started dating. They’d only been going out for a few months before he asked, but despite the worried opinions of their friends they were convinced that this was the right thing to do. 

Lavender pulled Ron down for another kiss, this one much more passionate than the last. “I missed you too.”

They were pulled apart by an awkward cough from Harry, an arm around Ginny who was covering her eyes to avoid watching her brother make out with someone in front of her. 

“Sorry Harry, Ginny,” said Lavender. “It’s great to see you both. Come on in, will you, we have a few last minute preparations to attend to.”

They followed the brunette into her family’s apartment, which was decked out in reception decorations that still needed to be set up. “Where’s the rest of your group? They are coming, aren’t they?”

“Y/N and the twins are out exploring the city,” said Ginny. “I figured you probably didn’t want Fred and George to be around anything important, especially with their history of pyrotechnics. And I don’t trust them alone in the city, so Y/N’s making sure they don’t burn down half of New York.”

Lavender laughed and poured some tea for her friends. “And what about Hermione, is she at the hotel?”

The room suddenly got very tense and Harry quietly sipped his tea, trying to disappear from the awkward scene. 

“Umm,” Ron began, “Hermione’s not coming. She can’t get time off at the Ministry and she’s helping watch over our apartments and take care of Luna.”

Lavender nodded sadly, sighing deeply at the news. “I guess it’s all for the best then. She never did like me, did she?”

“No, that’s not true at all,” Ron argued, taking his fiancee's hands. “She’s just...she takes a while to warm up to people. She really wishes she could be here, but you know how work is.”

The girl smiled slightly at Ron’s comforting words. “Yeah, thanks Won Won.”

He squeezed her hands gently. 

“Alright then,” said Ginny, “what needs to be done? Even though Parvati is your maid of honor and I swear I’m not upset about it--” Harry elbowed Ginny hard, “--I’m still one of your bridesmaids, and I want my big brother’s wedding to be as amazing as possible. So, what should we do?”

“Well,” Lavender said, clapping her hands, “I need a new venue. The one I had was going to be absolutely gorgeous, but they tore it down early, which means we need a new spot.”

Although Lavender said these words calmly, it was obvious that she was on the verge of tears and the stress was getting to her. 

“Got it,” said Ginny. “Let’s go check out the old venue and see if there’s anything we can do. I promise you Lav, this day is going to be amazing, for everyone.”

------------------------------

“This is going to be horrible!”

Hermione was pacing around her apartment, the one she shared with you and Ginny. She was packing up Ginny’s belongings for when everyone returned from the wedding. Once Ron moved out of his and Harry’s shared apartment across the hall, Ginny would move in with her fiance, leaving only you and Hermione to share the space. Hermione decided that packing for Ginny would help take her mind off of the wedding, but unfortunately her assumptions were incorrect. 

“What’s the matter?” Luna asked from the sofa, leaning comfortably against a pillow with the Quibbler in her hands. 

Hermione sighed as she continued to pack. “I’m just bummed about the way I left things with Ron. I shouldn’t have lied to him about having to go to work. He seemed so mad at me.”

“Oh, don’t be so hard on yourself,” the blonde said, not looking up from her reading. “If someone I was still in love with was getting married…”

Luna jumped as a vase hit the floor and shattered. She looked up to see a wide-eyed Hermione staring at her. “Still in love with?!”

“Yes,” she said matter-of-factly. 

“I’m not in love with Ron!” Hermione screamed. 

Realization flooded Luna’s face. “Oh, no, good! Yeah, me neither.”

Hermione sat down across from her friend, ripping the Quibbler from her hands and attention. 

“Luna,” she said, “I’m not going to Ron’s wedding because he is my ex-boyfriend and that would be really uncomfortable. Not because I’m still in love with him! I mean, I like Ron as much as the next girl. Clearly I still have feelings for him, but feelings don’t mean love! I mean, I still have loving feelings for Ron. But, but that doesn’t mean that-that I’m still in love with him! I-I have sexual feelings for him, but I do love him--oh!” she gasped at her own words. “Luna why didn’t you tell me?”

“We thought you knew!” she said, surprised that Hermione was for once in her life so oblivious. “We talk about it all the time!”

“You all know?” Hermione asked. “Does, does Ron know?”

“Oh no,” Luna answered calmly. “Ron doesn’t know anything.”

Hermione started pacing once again, this time much more frantically. “Oh, I can not believe you didn’t tell me!”

“We thought you knew!” Luna replied. “It’s so obvious. That would be like telling Ginny ‘hey, you like to play Quidditch,’ or you know, ‘George, you’re gay.’”

The pacing girl stopped dead in her tracks. “What?”

“Oh please,” replied the younger blonde, “she’s always got a broom in her hand!”

------------------------------

“Alright! The Empire State Building. Hands down, best State building I’ve ever seen.” George pulled out his Muggle camera, still trying to figure out which buttons did what. They were a lot smaller than the one Colin Creevey used to carry around at Hogwarts and George still hadn’t gotten the hang of using Muggle items. 

“What do you think of the Empire, Y/N?” Fred turned his head to you as he asked his question. Your legs had gotten tired from jogging to keep up with the ginormous twins so Fred had offered to let you ride on his back the rest of the way, an offer you couldn’t refuse. 

You hopped down and quickly covered your eyes to hide from the bright flash of George’s camera. “I don’t know, I can’t see it with that thing blinding me, George.”

He quickly apologized, but not before snapping a picture of Fred wrapping his arms around you and smiling while you glared at the camera. 

“Someone’s grouchy today,” Fred said, swaying you back and forth a few times before releasing his grip. 

“I’m just tired, jet lag y’know?” He nodded and pointed to his back, letting you know it was alright to get back on. You didn’t hesitate to jump onto the redhead as he followed his brother into the massive building in front of you. 

After waiting in line for what seemed like hours you finally made it onto the elevator to take you to the top of the building. George continued to take pictures of anything and everything, including you flipping him off from on Fred’s back. As the doors opened and you stepped out onto the observation deck, you were amazed by the incredible view before you. 

Thousands of tiny buildings filled with thousands of tiny people stood before you, or rather below you. It was like you were on your broom and flying high in the sky, except this time time you didn’t have to focus on keeping your broom in check. You could just stand and stare. 

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Fred came up next to you, leaning on a railing in front of him. He hunched down enough that his face was right next to yours as the two of you stared at The Big Apple. 

“It really is.” You looked around for George, but he was off pestering other tourists to take pictures of him and the city behind him. “Remember when we were playing Quidditch at the burrow, and I flew up this high and stayed there for hours?”

“How could I forget,” Fred laughed. “We had to send search parties for you, thought you had been snatched up by dementors or something.”

“Nope, just got a little distracted by the view.” You continued to watch the amazing landscape and incredible sky, not missing the looks Fred was giving you. “What’re you looking at, Weasley? Don’t tell me that I’m more enchanting than the city. I mean, we all know it’s true but try not to make it so obvious.”

You pinched his cheek and he swatted your hand away playfully. “Don’t be stupid,” he said. “I was just remembering the time I peed on you to combat the jellyfish sting.”

“Fred!” you whisper yelled, laughing as he put his hands up. “We said we would never talk about that again. I don’t need that reminder!”

“I’m sorry, it’s just too good of a story! Really shows the strength of our friendship.”

You rolled your eyes at your best friend. Technically you would’ve considered Ron to be your best friend, as you’d known him the longest and had been the closest with him for so many years. But the past few years, living close to Fred and hanging out with him almost every day, he had become the most important person in your life. He was always there to make you smile or laugh when you had a rough day, or wrap you up in a blanket and watch a movie after a horrid date with some arsehole. He was one of a kind, and you were so glad he was in your life. 

“Y’know what Fred?” you asked, scooting closer to him. “If you ever got stung by a jellyfish, I’d pee on you too.”

Fred wiped away fake tears from his eyes. “I’d pee on you any day of the week, Y/N,” he said, pulling you into a tight hug. 

“What the hell did I just walk into?” George was standing behind you and Fred, having only heard Fred’s last sentence. The two of you cackled with laughter, bringing George into the hug with you and just enjoying the moment. 

------------------------------

“Hey Luna?” Hermione called from her bedroom. She and her friend had spent the day discussing her feelings for Ron and trying their best to help her get over him. Apparently recounting the horrors of their relationship was not helping in the slightest. 

“Yeah,” Luna called back from the kitchen. 

“Do you remember where the pygmy puff food is?” Her muffled voice sounded rushed and anxious, even more so than Hermione usually was. 

“Yeah, it’s under the front counter of Fred and George’s shop. Why?”

Luna turned her head to see Hermione come flying into the room dragging a packed suitcase behind her. “Because I’m going to New York.”

The pregnant girl nearly had a heart attack at Hermione’s declaration. “What? What do you mean you’re going to New York?”

Hermione grabbed a few more essentials from around the apartment, rushing in order to catch the next flight. “Yeah, I have to tell Ronald that I love him. Now Luna, you take care, you don’t have those babies until I get back.”

“I--but what about all of the finding his flaws and burning his picture rituals we’ve been doing?” Luna asked, straining to stand up and chase after her friend. 

Hermione easily moved past the slow-moving girl, zipping up her bag and heading to the door. “Yeah, that didn’t work. I know he loves Lavender but I have to tell him how I feel! He deserves to have all of the information and then he can make an informed decision.”

Phoebe shook her head and continued to hobble around the room. “No, Hermione, it’s too late, you missed your chance! I’m sorry, I know this must be really hard, it’s over.”

The other girl paused for a moment and took a deep breath. “Y’know what? No. It’s not over until someone says ‘I do.’” And with that she took off out of the apartment and to the streets of Diagon Alley, on her way to another country to declare her love for Ron Weasley. 

[ladyy-grimm]

~Corvid Bride~

Dire Crowley x F reader

*In inspiration of the Ghost Marriage event - as well as watching one too many dramas - I present whatever AU this is.

“I’m sorry dear, I’m so, so sorry...” Is the only words your mother gave you. Her voice strained and hoarse.

The day, which was as gloomy as a funeral - was your wedding day.

The hushed murmurs of your friends and neighbors were your accompaniment, instead of celebratory music as you made your way towards a lone black carriage.

“So, she’s to be the bride?”

“Poor thing, she’s so young...”

“Thers’s nothing that can be done...If we don’t offer someone then, then we will starve. All of us..”

“We have to calm him...”

By whatever good grace yet remained in the world did you find yourself in the carriage with what remained of your closest friends. One of them adjusting your white veil, giving you the pitiful excuse of remaining hidden for your “groom”. They couldn’t bring themselves to look at you, not with what awaited you at the end of the carriage ride.

“Please don’t hate us.” One of them finally dared to speak. Yet somehow it made the small space quieter as they spoke. “We didn’t want this to happen...None of us. But, I’m glad you are going.”

“We’re very grateful to you.” Another spoke up.

“We can now all live because of you.”

You wanted to scream.

How dare they. How dare they try and make you feel better. They were just glad it was you and not them. That it was not their daughter. It wasn’t their fault you were unlucky, there needed to be a sacrifice anyway. It may have been an old fairytale, but they didn’t care so long as the crops and animals were blessed back to what they once were. As long as it wasn’t them, it didn’t matter.

Despite all that, your lips remained shut. As you arrived at your destination did you remember as to why you should remain so. The wind was still, despite being so high up into the mountains. The horses nervously whinnied behind you, your heels crunching under the stone as you made your way towards the cliffs end. Your bridesmaids giving you a wide berth as you made your way towards a large iron birdcage, alongside an old iron crank.

There were no final goodbyes nor tears as you made your way inside. Your veil and gown semi spilling out as you were lowered to the blanket of fog below. The air grew colder, your breath began to appear as from above you could hear your wedding party scrambling to leave. Leave behind all memory and with time - all traces of you. In resignation did you sit down, not even a bubble of a sob surfaced to your throat.

What point would tears give you? It didn’t help Lettie; as she was torn away from her widowed mother and not given a chance to be a proper bride. Or how about Amilie whom had tried to run away with her lover, condemning them both.

‘At least they died together.’ You couldn’t help but muse. You? You had no one besides your family back home, if you could even call it that anymore. They were just as part of this as any other. Yet any hatred you wanted to direct was cut short as you shivered. The cold had begun to set in.

Halfhazardly you wrapped your wedding gown around you as best as you could, aiding you a little. The birdcage swinging back and forth at your movements, causing slight nausea to set in. Repeatedly like a prayer did you tell yourself not to look down, though even if you did not but fog would greet you. How you wish it had deigned to surround you as well, that way you wouldn’t have had to see the other birdcages littered around you. All human sized, rusted, frosted, some even broken while others still housed their “residents”.

You didn’t consider yourself fortunate in the least at seeing the skeletal remains. A corpse should be best left alone after all, at least that is what you wished for yourself.

Would you freeze to death first? Or maybe you would attempt one last daring escape and fall to your death? Which was quicker? Or perhaps, you would wait for him? Whatever it was your village gave offerings to for a plentiful harvest, that had suddenly decided to stop granting such a boon. Devil? Fae? It didn’t matter so long as there was food at the table and all was well.

But obviously, not anymore. Not for a long, long time now.

“Having fun? Thinking of your final moments?”

You would have fallen to your death had the bars of the cage not been small enough, as you jumped in shock at the sudden voice. Wildly did you look around, seeing no one - except of course for one lone crow at the opposite side of you. It cocked its head, curious at you as it sat between the bars.

“You haven’t lost your mind yet.” It stated as to what you were thinking, its beak curving into the hints of a grin.

“I wish I was.” You blurted in response, earning you a cawing of sudden laughter.

“Ooh, decided to give a clever one away did they? That’s a pity for the arts.” The crow continued to laugh.

The statement was enough for a small smile to tug at your lips, only a small one though as your mind had caught up to what was currently happening. “I’m sorry, you are -“

“Hmm? Wish to know my name? I’ll give you mine if you give me yours.” Here the crow extended a wing, as if it were extending a hand.

Such an action caused your mind to reel. Memories of your grandmother teaching you the way of fairytales rushing to mind. The cold caused your voice - now laced with caution - to crack out your lie. “Y-You may call me Ainsel.”

The crow, appeared to grin more and his eyes to turn from a shiny black, like twin pebbles. To glowing moons. “Ah, you are indeed a clever one.”

With that there was suddenly a large puff of smoke, and there at the other end of your already small cage appeared a man. He was draped in a dark coat with a cut to resemble wings, and obscuring his face was a long beaked mask that only shown his glowing pupils. The birdcage was too small for him to stand fully, but he had no need to as with a flourish did he remove his top hat and bowed at his waist to you. His eyes glowing in delight as they looked towards you.

Instinctually, hurriedly did you try to stand. Only realizing that you had wrapped your wedding gown around you for warmth too tightly. This caused the man to laugh.

“‘Tis alright, I’d much rather have you remain sitting as to what we are to discuss little bird.” With that he knelt before you, being mindful of your gown and giving you plenty of room to breath. You did just meet after all. “Now, I’m sure you have already figured out who I am and what I do. So, let us cut the chase and have me ask you; What would you like to do now?”

“What?” You couldn’t help but ask.

“Hmm? Did you simply think I just fly in here and gobble you ‘brides’ up?” He chuckled at his own dark humor. “I’m kind enough to give you brides a choice, when you were given none.”

His words gave you pause, so he continued. “You can choose to try and get back up towards the cliffs. Some have made it and have lived to see their childrens children. Others, falling to a death of their own will. Others, I will say have chosen to remain in this final resting place - whilst I - well, can’t refuse what whatever God has left before me now can I? Or if you prefer I could give your corpse to those animals as a “blessing” if that is what you wish.”

The information given both baffled yet made complete sense. As was the won’t of the lands of Twisted Wonderland. With a jolt did you suddenly recoil back. He had outstretched a claw ringed hand towards you.

“I’d very much like to give you more time to ponder your choice but, it grows darker by the moment and colder as well.”

How right he was. Your teeth were now chattering without you realizing. It wasn’t much of a choice you had to admit, but it was a choice nonetheless. More than you had been given, and there was only one that you had in mind.

“Your name...” You mumbled, lips beginning to freeze.

He cocked his head to the side.

“I’d, I’d like to know my husbands name....”

He smiled, gently taking your hand in his as he drew you towards him. Weakly did you stumble into his embrace, your legs having become numb as the iron floor had frosted and your gown as well. Yet you had no need to walk a he opted to carry you as any bride wished to be. He was pleasantly warm, his overcoat framing even you a bit. As if it were a large pair of wings.

“Dire Crowley.”

You smiled, thinking of how your name matched with his. It had a nice ring to it.

~

In the days to come the people of your village would be back to the cliff side to check on you. They would find your almost empty birdcage, and be filled with fear immediately. The bars remained intact. Your corpse did not hang, nor had it been coated in frost or even be eaten by the wildlife that could reach you. Nay, all that remained was your bouquet as fresh as the day your mother had picked it.

Far, far away you would be found laughing happily alongside your husband. Eccentric and troublesome as he was, he had given you the choice that only ever mattered. That choice was to live, and having him at your side was a pleasant bonus.

[angelqueen04]

Hamliza Month, Day 18

@megpeggs @historysalt 

Genderbend First Summary: Colonel Hamilton makes a new acquaintance.

Alexander marched along the snow-covered path, his shoulders hunched against the frigid air as he followed several of his fellow aides toward the local storeroom. Honestly, with every step he took he was regretting more and more his decision to purchase the voucher for these local dancing assemblies that the officers insisted on sponsoring. While he knew it was an excellent way to interact with others outside of his immediate circle of acquaintance, it was also damned cold! How many would actually show up in this kind of weather?

His mental grousing was interrupted when Tench Tilghman suddenly appeared beside him, throwing an arm around his shoulders. “Come on, Hammie, keep up!” he said cheerfully. “You lollygag far enough behind and you’ll not be found ‘til spring! And stop moping over the fact that the General wouldn’t let you run off with Laurens to play soldier in the Carolinas!”

Alexander rolled his eyes, but nonetheless quickened his pace. They were nearly there, anyway. He pointedly did not respond to Tilghman’s comment about Laurens. Yes, he missed his friend. Yes, he wished the General had let him accompany Laurens down south to fight Cornwallis. None of that was a secret.

“Besides,” Tench added, “tonight’s going to be special! I overheard Dr. Cochran talking to the General – apparently Mrs. Cochran’s niece has come to stay with them. It’s Miss Elizabeth Schuyler, direct from Albany!”

Ah. So that explained Tench’s high spirits. Alexander could recall Tench waxing poetic over the vaunted Miss Schuyler more than once over the years. He had met back in ’75 during a visit he had made to the Albany area, calling her “good-natured” and describing her “dark, lovely eyes” and how they emphasized her “good temper and benevolence”. Tench had been clearly smitten with her, and still was, it appeared. [1]

Alexander himself could not claim any acquaintance with the lady. His trip to Albany after the victory at Saratoga had included a brief visit to General Schuyler’s home, where he had hoped to gain advice on the best manner to convince General Gates to release his vicelike grip on a number of troops who were desperately needed further south, but the lady in question had not been home at the time.[2] Still, he also recalled the joke she had made to Tilghman, which the man had passed along, about how she had teased him about his “upcoming nuptials” and that she looked forward to being “a bridesmaid at his wedding”. Alexander was not entirely sure of the context of this little joke – Tilghman had not retold it very well – but from what he could tell, that did not bode well for his friend’s chances with her, if she was talking about attending his bride rather than being the bride herself.

Finally, they arrived at their destination and made their way inside. Grateful to finally be out of the cold, Alexander sought and obtained a glass of punch. Sipping it, he was surprised to discover that it wasn’t half-bad. Whoever had organized the refreshments must have gotten creative, since it was far above the swill that was normally served.

It did not take long for the music and dancing to begin. General Washington, who greatly enjoyed dancing, led the first set by stepping out with Mrs. Greene. Alexander, knowing his duty to the ladies who had come tonight, partnered with a Miss Abigail Rollins, who had in the past proved a better dancer than conversationalist. This was the first time he had seen her since the previous winter, and time had not much improved her, as she proved to be as tongue-tied as ever.

When the time came for the musicians and dancers alike to take a break, many broke into different groups, some taking the chance to reestablish acquaintances, some to discuss politics, and others simply to sit down and rest their tired feet. Alexander had thought to join the group surrounding the General – at least there he could likely be assured of some intelligent conversation – when someone calling his name through the crush caught his attention.

“Alexander! Colonel Hamilton!”

Alexander turned, and immediately brightened as a young woman, her dark hair freshly powdered, approached him, a beaming smile on her face. “Miss Livingston,” he said, suddenly feeling much cheered. He took her proffered hand and kissed it as he bowed to her. “How delightful to see that you are again come among us,” he said, feeling some measure of delight for the first time since the assembly had begun. “The room has become all the brighter from your amiable presence!”

She laughed, tapping her fan on his arm teasingly. “And you are as charming as ever, my dear friend,” she replied. “Be careful, Alexander, lest you give some poor girl the wrong idea.”

He gave her his best, most innocent expression, which only made her laugh more. As they settled into a conversation, Alexander could feel himself beginning to relax. A conversation with Kitty Livingston, a lady he had known for some years, since the days when he had boarded with her family while he attended school in Elizabethtown, was just what he needed. Someone he could engage in a conversation without undue expectations being raised.

However, he soon discovered that Kitty had other plans.

After a little time had passed, where they had asked about mutual acquaintances and her family – everyone was well – Kitty’s gaze was caught by something over her shoulder. A mischievous sparkle entered her dark eyes. “Ah, Alexander,” she said, “There is someone you should meet.”

He eyed her curiously. “And who might that be, madam?”

Kitty did not respond directly, but instead waved her hand and called, “Eliza! Here, dear, you must meet Colonel Hamilton!”

Blinking at the sudden turn in conversation, Alexander turned in the same direction Kitty was waving at. Approaching them was another young woman, dressed in a deep green silk and wool with embroidered pink flowers. Her hair powdered like Kitty’s, but not enough to entirely disguise the rich, dark color.

“Alexander,” Kitty said from his right, “please allow me to introduce my cousin, Miss Elizabeth Schuyler. Betsey, this is Colonel Alexander Hamilton, aide-de-camp to General Washington.”

Ah, so this was the lady that had so bewitched Tilghman. Taking her in, Alexander supposed he could understand the other man’s interest. While she would not be considered a conventional beauty – he imagined that most would say that Kitty was the fairer of the two ladies – there was no denying that she was still very handsome. No wispy, willowy thing, there appeared a measure of health and strength in how she carried herself. Suddenly, Alexander recalled a story Tilghman had told of Eliza climbing a steep hill to a waterfall without one bit of help, while all of the other ladies of the party had required the aid of the gentlemen to make it up the steep, slippery slope.

Her most striking feature, however, the one that caught his attention the most, was Miss Schuyler’s fine, dark eyes. They sparkled in the candlelight, and lit up her entire face as she smiled and curtsied to him. Alexander was startled to feel himself blushing a bit as he bowed in return. “Miss Schuyler,” he said, “a true pleasure.”

“Indeed, Colonel Hamilton,” Miss Schuyler responded. “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance as well. My father has spoken highly of you and your talents. He asked me to convey his best wishes to you, should we have occasion to meet.”

Alexander was startled, but pleased. He had come to like and respect General Schuyler – though now technically he was Mr. Schuyler now, serving in Congress – when they had met during Alexander’s trip to Albany. It was gratifying to be remembered by such an excellent man.

As he fell into conversation with the two ladies, he could not help but take Miss Schuyler in further. It didn’t appear that Tilghman had exaggerated her qualities. There was something warm about the lady. She did not put on airs or give herself graces, but spoke gently and kindly. While she didn’t appear to have Kitty’s razor-sharp wit, she was by no means dull or simpering either. Miss Schuyler was well-informed of the doings of Congress – something Alexander attributed to her father’s position – and was keenly interested in the plight of the soldiers. “Mrs. Washington has invited me to join her on her rounds in visiting them,” she mentioned. Her expression was open and earnest. “I hope to be useful in any way I can.”

Soon enough, the musicians retook their positions and began to play again. A young man, a major, appeared and bowed to Kitty. “Miss Livingston, I believe I have the pleasure of the next set?”

Kitty beamed. “Indeed so, Major Gibbons.” Taking his outstretched hand, she flashed a smile in both Alexander and Miss Schuyler’s direction before stepping off with the man, leaving the two of them alone.

Alexander glanced around. He did not see anyone else approaching to claim Miss Schuyler for the next dance, which surprised him. New arrivals were always a subject of much interest, and their cards would be filled up quickly. In fact, he was equally surprised that Tilghman hadn’t bounded over to her like an overexcited pup, given his earlier anticipation of her company.

“If you are not engaged, Miss Schuyler,” Alexander said impulsively, “might I induce you to join me on the floor?”

A flicker of surprise crossed her handsome features, and then she smiled at him. “I would be honored, Colonel,” she replied, her voice soft. Obligingly, he held out his hand to her, and she laid her gloved hand in his own so that he might lead her out among the other couples.

It turned out, Alexander soon discovered, that Miss Schuyler was as excellent a dancer as she was good company off of the dance floor. At end of the assembly, he had the chance to escort her out to the sleigh that would bear her back to aunt and uncle’s lodgings. He aided her into the sleigh, helping her settle into the seat next to Kitty, and then kissed her hand before stepping back.

“I have had a most enjoyable evening in your company, Miss Schuyler,” Alexander said. “I do hope we shall meet again in the near future.”

“As do I, Colonel Hamilton,” Miss Schuyler said, her smile now taking on a shy but pleased quality. She then glanced at Kitty briefly, before adding, “We were planning to go for a sleigh ride in a few days. We should be delighted if you would join us.” [3]

He bowed. “It would be my honor,” Alexander said, and was pleased to feel that he truly meant it. He found he rather liked this young lady that Kitty had introduced him to.

There was no chance to say anything else, because at that moment the driver of their sleigh flicked the whip and the horses started forward, carrying the ladies off.

As he walked back toward headquarters a short time later, Alexander found that he did not so much mind the cold as he had earlier in the evening. He felt pleasantly warm the whole way.

 -----

[1] Tench Tilghman was very complimentary of Eliza when he described her in his diary, and it sounds as though he did indeed have something of a crush on her.

[2] This is speculation on my part. There really is no way of knowing for certain one way or the other if Eliza and Alexander first met when he visited the area after the Battle of Saratoga. It’s possible, of course, but it’s equally possible that Eliza may have been in Boston at the time, visiting Angelica. Chernow, for one, seems to believe that they did meet at this time, but he does not cite a source to back this belief up.  All we really do know is that Alexander arrived in Albany in early November 1777 and did visit the Schuyler family home while in the area. But I would point out that, at this time, Angelica was pregnant with her first child (who would be born in April 1778), so it’s possible that Eliza had gone to visit and help her prepare for the birth and motherhood to come. I went with that interpretation here.

[3] Alexander Hamilton to Catharine Livingston and Elizabeth Schuyler, circa January/February 1780.