#someone should send me a drabbling request so I can do something with myself to not feel so unhappy post them 9 to 5 (read: 7 to 4)

[wavesmp3]

-

[shurisneakers]

a writing challenge? in 2024? you bet

Hi! Hello! Hey!

I've been going through A Time and have chosen to cope by going back to the specific vibes of 2016 to 2018. That happens to include an incredible resurgence in my love for MCU fanfic, the community around it and all the love that goes into them. I've felt a bit distant from here for a while, but I still see so many of my old friends writing, ones who want to get back into it, and a whole lot of new writers I am dying to meet.

I've floated this idea vaguely on my blog and people seem to be interested so I figured it was worth a shot!

So yeah, welcome to Ari's Old School, Nostalgia Jam, Why-The-Hell-Not MCU Fic Writing Challenge 2024!

Prompts, rules and whatnot under the cut:

Requests:

If you could reblog this post to reach someone who might want to participate, I'd really appreciate it! No need to be following me, it's open for anyone.

Reader-inserts, OCs, solo character fics, character x character-- absolutely no limitations

Any and all MCU characters are allowed

Anything above 500 words should have a read-more/keep-reading tab. Series, multi-chapters, one-shots, drabbles, etc etc. The sky's the limit.

Please tag me in your fics (@shurisneakers) so I'm notified of them, and post them with the tag #arisoldschoolwritingchallenge . It may take me a while to get back to you due to the circumstances I find myself in currently, but I absolutely will. Please send me a DM if I haven't responded within 10 days.

Send me an ask with the prompt you would like. Feel free to pick up to 2 prompts

The only thing I request of you: no RPF and no dark fics. Smut is welcome, but non-con/dub-con/incest or anything along those veins is something I'd ask you not to submit for this challenge. Thank you for your understanding!

I know I've called it an MCU fic challenge as it's the community I've grown with, but if you feel like any of these prompts resonates with a character from another fandom, please go ahead and write it. This challenge really is just about the fun of writing fanfic and love for Your Little Guys

No submission cut-off date. Take all the time you need.

Prompts

I've tried to have a mix of classics and uncommon tropes/dynamics, so I hope everyone finds something they connect with!

Relationship Prompts

1. Enemies (taken by @theysaywhatasadsight)

2. Best friends/childhood friends

3. Coworkers (taken by @jaaneymann)

4. Internet friends

5. Neighbours/roommates (taken by @angrythingstarlight)

6. Fake dating (taken by @hungryforpowernotfood)

7. Commuters

Alternate Universe Prompts

1. Florist AU (taken by @hungryforpowernotfood)

2. Showmance AU (taken by @bombsonboard)

3. Social media/streaming/gaming AU (taken by @splintered-emotions)

4. Thieves/Heist Group AU

5. Time travel AU

6. Pirates AU

7. College AU (taken by @lovelybarnes)

8. Apocalypses/dystopia AU (taken by @targaryenvampireslayer)

9. Chef AU

10. Roadtrips AU

Some rarer miscellaneous ones for those who are so inclined!

1. Shipwrecked together on an island

2. Meet Ugly (opposite of Meet Cutes) (taken by @barnesandco

3. Both of you are ghosts but don't know the other is

4. Treasure hunters AU

5. Faking death

6. Professional cuddlers AU

7. Time loops/Groundhog Day (taken by @sxrensxngwrites)

8. Orpheus and Eurydice

9. Villain x hero

10. Hitchhiking

11. Carnival of Horrors

12. Robin Hood

13. Matchmakers AU

14. Insomniac x narcoleptic

15. Intergalactic Coffee Shop AU

16. Doomed By The Narrative

17. Enemies to Lovers to Enemies

18. Subversion of Classic Hallmark Movie Tropes

Dialogue prompts

You can tweak them as per requirements, but be sure to keep the underlying message!

Angst

1. "I should have trusted myself. I should have stayed far away from you." (taken by @waywardcrow)

2. "Has it occurred to you that how I feel matters too?" (taken by @jaaneymann)

3. "We failed. I would do it again."

4. "You do not deserve my forgiveness."

5. "You make me feel so alone." (taken by @reidishh)

6. "I'm not giving up on us." "I did. You should too." (taken by @targaryenvampireslayer)

Crack

1. "Ohhh, you wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid." (taken by @pinkthick)

2. "I think you and I make the worst choices together." "Yeah, but it's always entertaining."

3. "I trusted you." "Terrible decision, really."

4. "I know I'm smiling but I want to push you off a very big cliff." (taken by @pepperonijem)

5. "I'm hilarious." "You're traumatised."

Fluff

1. "This is the only thing I look forward to everyday." (Taken by @bombsonboard)

2. "I think we should do that again. For the sake of the world and my sanity."

3. "You're all I think about." (taken by @waywardcrow)

4. "Don't go anywhere I can't follow." (taken by @iguess-theyre-mymess)

5. "Don't smile at me like that." "Like what?" "Like that." (Taken by @lovelybarnes)

Word Prompts:

Flesh

Strawberry

Bruised (taken by @juvenilearson)

Groovy

Jump

Sunflower (taken by @barnesandco)

Alchemist

Wayward

Offerings

Mischief (taken by @supraveng)

I hope you'll join in! Please do tag anyone you think would be interested, I'd love for this to have as wide an audience as possible.

Lots of love <3

-Ari

[gladiatorcunt]

Hi so this post kind of explains the situation but i just wanted to officially announce that i’m setting up comissions. Long story short, due to my health this would be my only way of getting money to support my family/have money for myself in general. I would very much so appreciate it if you would comission me or at least spread the word to someone who will. DMs & Asks are open for questions but all the info is down below! You in no way have to commission me or tip me if you don’t want to commission me but this is just something that i’ll continuously have going should you choose to.

+ RULES 🍰

ANY COMMISSION TYPE CAN BE NSFW OR SFW/DARK CONTENT(or YANDERE) OR NON DARK CONTENT, if it’s nsfw i’ll need info regarding what genetalia/kinks/pronouns/etc. that you’d be comfortable with. and if it’s dark content i need you to specify what you are and are not okay with so i don’t cause you any accidental harm. generally i’d need as much detail as possible for the matchup package comm type.

commissions take priority so if there’s something you really want to see from me, you’re more likely to get it quicker and more suited to your tastes this way. please understand that i’m getting my g.e.d and things like that so your commission will be done as soon as i possibly can.

writing commissions can be chracter x reader x charatcer, character x reader, my oc x reader, my oc x reader x my oc. (You can ask me to make ocs, for example “angel oc” “cowboy oc” “boxer oc” etc. but i do ask that you only give me the type of oc you want and not all the specifics bc then it wouldn’t really be my oc)

the reader/oc can have any genitalia/gender identity/pronouns or be gn. i will do trans readers as well.

i currently am accepting comms for characters from any of the fandoms in my rules post

there will be 10 slots for every commission type (fics, headcanons, drabbles, fic series, matchups)

if you would like to commission me, send me the request and if i accept it, you’d have to send me the required payment before you receive the final product. do not say you’re going to commission me and then pull out after i’ve accepted and would be awaiting the payment, i’m forcing no to buy anything from me but if you’re kind enough to do so, please respect me and my time. make an informed decision about this and be aware of my prices. (they’re a little high because i desperately need the money, i’m sorry)

minors (it’s literally illegal) are not allowed to commission anything involving nsfw. i have the right to say no to any commission and to use any ocs that i am commissioned to make outside of those said comms.

you may do what you want with your commission, let me post it or keep it to yourself or whatever. but do not under any circumstances use it for ai purposes, sell it/claim as your own, or claim any ocs you commission me to make as your own or use them.

+ CONTACT & PAYMENT 🍭

I’m available 24/7 through my DMs. I only accept payment to my cashapp $faetreides or my ko-finbut if you don’t want to commission me, tipping is open if it’s still available (i’m not sure what the deal is with that). You can also just donate to me on ko-fi. Once again, i must receive the proper payment if your request is accepted or you will NOT receive your commission. Only send the payment AFTER i’ve accepted your request, in case it’s a situation where i would’ve denied it. Do not make this choice on a whim and be aware of how long it may take me and have a realistic understanding of your finances. If you can’t afford it or anything like that, please don’t feel pressured to. The last thing i want to do is take money from people who are also going through hard times.

+ COMMISSION TYPES 🍮

CLICK HERE -> ⋆

[plasmasimagination]

Might wanna check out before requesting

hey there darlings, thought I'd tell you about my preferences and rules in requesting and writing

please remember my blog is a safe for everyone, remember that you should be as comfortable as possible,dont be scared to ask any questions if needed!

i highly appreaciate reblogs,i dont mind spam likes,nor people requesting multiple times

please remember that your request might take a while tho so bare with me

anons are more than welcome

im also always open to hear your headcanons/rants about characters/ideas

I DO

character x reader 𓆩♡𓆪

Fluff𓆩♡𓆪

angst𓆩♡𓆪

comfort /hurt𓆩♡𓆪

suggestive𓆩♡𓆪

jealousy𓆩♡𓆪

Letters to you from character

preferably headcanons but I can do drabbles and one shot scenarios too, please do specify otherwise I will write whatever I think fits the request

romantic relationship 𓆩♡𓆪

gender-neutral & female reader𓆩♡𓆪

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

MAYBE

character x character (ships)𓆩⚝𓆪

AU's (depends on which au)𓆩⚝𓆪

plantonic relationships𓆩⚝𓆪

male reader𓆩⚝𓆪

mental health (Im teriffied of saying something wrong by these type of requests)𓆩⚝𓆪

character death𓆩⚝𓆪

trans reader (im not trans myself,so im not quite sure,but ill try if someones interessted)𓆩⚝𓆪

NO SORRY

child characters in any romantic scenario ʚɞ

pedophilia ʚɞ

family life/pregnancy ʚɞ

the basic no /incest/abuse/ rape/non consensual sex/abusive relationships ʚɞ

dark content (yandare,kidnapping,mafia etc) ʚɞ

cheating ʚɞ

still if youre unsure just send in an ask :D

FANDOMS AND CHARACTERS I WRITE FOR

genshin (only adult/teenage characters) (I started playing genshin again so request away >:})˚ * ꒰ঌ✦໒꒱ * ˚.

honkai star rail (every adult/teenage character) .˚ * ꒰ঌ✦໒꒱ * ˚.

five nights at freddys (michael, maybe william) .˚ * ꒰ঌ✦໒꒱ * ˚.

danganronpa (all characters except hifumi,teruteru,gonta,junko,hiyoko or other child or child-like characters) .˚ * ꒰ঌ✦໒꒱ * ˚.

Mystic messenger (everyone but ,V and Rika, ray)

[huecomymundo]

Salutations! Welcome to my corner of the internet! I'm not new to tumblr, I've been around the block~ So here's what to expect from me:

Writing! Oc's! X Reader! This is a request blog! Send me your request, and I may or may not write it! I'm doing this for free, and will only have so many slots for requests.

This is an NSFW blog! If you are a minor, please do not interact with my NSFW or ask for it. You will not receive it.

Requests unspecified to be a: Drabble (short but sweet), Headcanon's, or a short story/scenario (full fics are not offered at this time, because that means 1000+ words and words are hard lol) will be randomly chosen by ~moi~ so if you want something specific, you MUST include it.

I only write x Male Reader or Gender Neutral for personal reasons. Besides.. There isn't enough Male Reader's out there. 😏

I'll have 5 slots open for requests.. Now, just straight up asking me a plain 'character x reader' is fine and dandy! but.. The more specific you are, the more I can write! Example: Kenpachi x Shy! Male reader going on a cute but embarrassing date (because Zaraki loves embarrassing him 💜) give's me more to work with since it gives me a set personality I can build around, instead of doing everything myself. Which I have no problems with!

You can request up to 9 character's max, but be aware that the writing will be shorter or vary in length.

It's acceptable to ask for:

-X reader (will be Male or Gender Neutral as a given.) Please specify if you want SFW or NSFW, and who's topping/bottoming in the NSFW scenario.

-Character x Character (Ships include: Kisuke x Aizen, Gin x Rangiku, Shunsui x Jushiro, Gojo x Geto, Yomo x Uta, you get it!) Self Inserts/OC x Character is something your better off commissioning me. I will not write your OC for nothing..

-Fetish writing (ex: Pregnancy/Mpreg, Cumflation, belly bulge, overstim, spit, more cum, bondage, all those lovely things.) If you have a specific kink you want written, then tell me about it.

-Fluff, Angst, or Slice of Life.. Etc. If you have something you specifically want, make sure to include it or you might not get what you want.

-An emotinally traumatic event. Such as death of a loved one, still birth, loss of a body part, so on. If it's anything extreme/beyond that, I will ask you to send me a DM/ask detailing on how you want me to go about it. I love writing about heavy subject's!

Don't be shy! I don't bite! This isn't an outline of what you should say in an ask, so don't worry if you go beyond what I've listed.

The fandoms I will loyally work for:

-Jujutsu Kaisen

-Bleach

-Tokyo Ghoul

They are a large comfort margin to me as I am the most familiar with their universes, and the character's. I've written alot of personal fics and original character's with these fandoms, and I will die for them.

There is also a possibility you will see another fandom guest star here, or someone might just be so convincing I'll write for another fandom~

It's a bonus if you ask for a character whom is blorbo- meaning I'll write extra for them! The one's with hearts are my utmost favorites.

Which I'll list!

-Geto Suguru 💙

-Kenjaku💜

-Uta ❤

-Tokinada Tsunayashiro 💚

-Toji Fushiguro/Toji Zen'in

-Ulquiorra Cifer

-Aizen Sosuke

-Kisuke Urahara

-Gin Ichimaru

Those are the faves~ If thou ask, ye shall receive..

You may also inquire about my Oc's! I don't think anyone really cares if I do or don't list them, so if your interested send an ask for one or all three of the fandoms, and I'll blab about my kids.. My very tall, older than me kids.

Now everybody's least favorite- The things I won't do:

-Anything relating to Fem! Reader. I'm a gay man, and I love men. That is my preference, I don't have to write what I'm not comfortable with. If your unhappy about that, oh well! It's my blog, not yours. (I've written it for asks before, if your curious. Please do not ask for it.)

-Extreme/Gross fetishes. Meaning- anything to do with scat, watersports, diapers, de-aging.. You get the idea.

-ANYTHING, anything relating to sexual assult. I will absolutely not write about rape and never will. Everything I write is consensual. I will write a scenario where it's a agreed upon act between the character's and part of the foreplay. Consent is given and a relationship is established. There is no 'one party wants and the other doesn't.'

-I will not write about Minors in any sexual fashion, because no. Absolutely not.

-Abuse. I will not write physically abusing someone. They can do all the drugs they want, drink all they want, but they will not raise a hand against their lover. You can ask for past abuse, but I will not write present abuse.

-I will not kill a character just because You don't like them.

-Anything morally questionable, if the character isn't already so. If it's out of character, you must negotiate with me. (Being morally questionable, for someone like say, Kisuke, to murder someone. I need a reason why he would do such a thing.. But OOC is not something you need to negotiate with me, and can be asked for. Such an example, is cuddly Tokinada. That's fine.) Dead Dove content is not my thing, sorry.

That's it (for now) of what I won't do.

If you have any questions/comments/concerns about anything, feel free to DM me or send an ask!

I'm open to chat, but as I have a life I may have spaced out posting and replies. If you are pushy about your request it will take longer! Feel free to send an ask about your request if you are unsure if I got it.

If you are mean/disrespectful to me I have every right to block you without warning. I will not tolerate hate directed twords me and my audience.

FIVE OUT OF FIVE SLOTS TAKEN: check the pinned post for wip update's! Please be patient because writing takes time and thinking. I take my time so I can give quality writing. Remember I am a person too, and have a life outside of tumblr.

SLOT 1- Byakuya Kuchiki x Gin Ichimaru Fic (WIP, ask received!)

SLOT 2- Sub! Byakuya x Dom! Reader (WIP, ask received!)

SLOT 3- Shunsui/Ukitake Comforting M! Reader who had a really bad day, and is snappy! (Ask received!)

SLOT 4- Shinji getting his back blown out (Ask received!)

SLOT 5- Enemies To Lover's Top! Tokinada x Male! Reader /history is tense btwn these two 👀/ (Ask received!)

If you want to commission me, it's a huge help! And will help me keep writing. You get a quality fanfic specially written for you, and I get to write for you. I also draw! I will write and draw for you for money. Prices are negotiable.

(Yes its alot of tags because I intend on writing, requests or no.)

TAGS: #🌜mod mori🌛, #bleach x reader, #bleach/reader, #bleach x male! reader, #bleach/male! reader, #bleach x m! reader, #bleach/m! reader, #bleach x gender neutral! reader, #bleach/gender neutral! reader, #bleach x gn! reader, #bleach/gn! reader, #jujutsu kaisen x reader, #jujutsu kaisen/reader, #jjk x reader, #jjk/reader, #jjk x male! reader, #jjk/male! reader, #jjk x gender neutral! reader, #jjk/gender neutral! reader, #jjk x gn! reader, #jjk/gn! reader, #jujutsu kaisen x male! reader, #jujutsu kaisen/male! reader, #jujutsu kaisen x m! reader, #jujutsu kaisen/m! reader, #jujutsu kaisen x gender neutral! reader, #jujutsu kaisen/ gender neutral! reader, #jujutsu kaisen x gn! reader, #jujutsu kaisen/gn! reader, #tokyo ghoul x reader, #tokyo ghoul/reader, #tokyo ghoul x male! reader, #tokyo ghoul/male! reader, #tokyo ghoul x m! reader, #tokyo ghoul/m! reader, #tokyo ghoul x gender neutral! reader, #tokyo ghoul/ gender neutral! reader, #tokyo ghoul x gn! reader, #tokyo ghoul/gn! reader

[moodymisty]

❀ Misty's Follower Milestone Event ❀

EDIT: Event is finished!!! Thank you so much to everyone who's sent requests or kind words, it's been a blast!

Wow guys, thank you!! It means so much to see people enjoying my writing (and my silly chatting), and I hope to continue making you all happy <3 Deciding to come back to tumblr was the best choice I made last year.

I don’t really talk to much about myself on here, but I'll give a tiny bit of backstory. I’ve had this exact same blog since around 2011, it's seen so many fandoms, but I purged it in 2018. After that I completely quit posting online; Until last year when my depression decided to come back hard because of some irl issues, and I ended up going back to Star Wars and Darksiders as a comfort. Posting again was incredibly nerve-wracking as it had been so long since I’d written anything beyond silly personal drabbles, but I’m incredibly happy to see even one person enjoy what I make. I have zero shortage of self doubt for everything I create, but even if it sounds cheesy, nothing makes me happier than knowing something I created has made someone smile.

But wah wah enough sob story, onto the event! A sentence prompts list! I tried to make a good amount of spicy ones, some sfw ones, and even one or two angsty ones. Feel free to take any sentence(s) or prompts from here and send me a character in my ask box! Or multiple, if it strikes your fancy? Any Star Wars or Darksiders character is welcome, and I'm more than happy to stretch my legs and do a character I don’t do as much, or haven’t before.

I'll accept asks for this for around the two weeks or so give or take, so feel free to send something in if you'd like!

(I won’t be using my tag list on these posts just to avoid spam)

All the prompts are under this readmore, to avoid having a super long post.

���Sentence prompts

“ I can’t stop thinking about you. ”

“ You really need to shave. ” 

" I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t distract me. "

" Where do you think you're going? "  

“ You should go. ”

“ You have no idea how much I want to kiss you. ”

" Never tease me like that again. "

" Kneel. "

" Sorry, couldn't sleep. "

" I want to do bad things to you. "

" Do whatever you want to me. "

" I want you in my mouth. "

" Quit looking at me like that. I know what that look means. "

“ I just don’t like the way he/she/they look at you, that’s all. ”

“ You don’t own me. ”

" You don't have to be gentle with me. "

" I'd cut out that attitude. "

" I'm not letting you out of my sight. "

" You really want me? "

" I, didn't know you liked that. "

" Ask nicely. "

" I can't stop thinking about you. "

" Want to sleep in my bed tonight? "

" Can you teach me? "

" Keep talking. "

" You look so hot when you do that. "

“ Can you help me? ”

" Um... I'm stuck. "

" Were you crying? "

" I hate you. "

" You're so fucking cute. "

" Why do you never talk to me? "

“ I, I think I’m pregnant. "

" You need to choose. "

“You're shivering... do you want my (clothing here)”

↳Scenario prompts

Needing something off the top shelf and needing to ask for help to get it down

Finding out they have a momento of you somewhere on them they bring everywhere

You or them saying a petname by accident

Soothing you or them after having a nightmare

Caught partly undressed or totally naked

Sharing food

Having to bathe together

Sending or saying something naughty to them during an inopportune moment

Accidental(?) flashing

Stealing a piece of their(your) clothing

Patching them up after a fight

Cuddling up for heat

Making them(you) blush

Giving them a nice (sexy) surprise ;3

Being given/getting flowers

Secret relationship

Reading together

Getting caught/catching them during a 'private' moment

And again, thank you all so much!!!

[justsomerandomfanfic]

do you have any advice on doing matchups for people? i wanna open them up for my followers, but i’m nervous for my first time! 😫😫 yours always seem so perfect for the people you do them for!!

I would love to help, so hopefully my advice does help! <3 I totally understand the nerves, but it's amazing that you want to do matchups for your followers. Here are a few tips that might help you get started: (There is more information under the cut!)

I would start with making a request rules sheet (if you have not already), in which, you can write what you do or do not allow/what people should add to their matchup request that can be helpful in the matchup process; ie. physical features, personal likes/dislikes, hobbies, etc.

Out of all the information people give me, I take characteristics and hobbies into account. If someone asks for a matchup for Star Wars for example, and they like to read and/or kind of have a bubbly personality, I would probably match them with Luke Skywalker; usually when I am reading their request, whatever character from their chosen show/movie pops in my head first, is usually who I choose for them. If that makes sense. (For some reason, some characters just click!) :)

I usually follow my gut, or what feels right for that person. Sometimes it is difficult to match someone with a character, especially if it's a large fandom they have chosen. That's why I narrow the information that I want to just physical traits, personality, and hobbies. Sometimes, it can be stressful if there is too much information given, it can get to a point where you don't know what to use; in my opinion.

Really, it all depends on what the person sends you. As said above, I use the things that stand out to me the most, whether that be their favorite color or where they like to go on the weekend, I usually just write something cute featuring those things, to make it more personable.

Lastly, I write it out in bullet points, each around a sentence or two. For me, I start the first one or two points with how they meet, before doing the next three points featuring their likes or hobbies. And I usually write in either the requestor's pov, or both the requestor's and the match/love interest. I also ask myself questions, and answer them in my matchups. (You can organize yours in any way that you find easy, comfortable, and fun for you.)

For example, I have this down below;

First Point: How did they meet? Where are they when they meet? If this place plays music, what are they listening to? When at what point in the fandom do they meet? Post or pre events? Was it love at first sight? Was there some tension? Enemies to lovers? Or had they been friends since childhood?

Second Point: What are they both doing? Are they interacting? Is there anyone else around them? Friends? What's the situation? What are their thoughts on one another? What made them want to start dating?

Third Point: Are they on a date? if so, where? Is it somewhere the requestor likes or the love interest? Is their favorite food there? A favorite drink? Or are they participating in the requestor's favorite hobby? Or are they spending time together indoors? If so, what are they watching that the requestor likes?

Fourth Point: What are their feelings? Has there been a timeskip further into their relationship? Where are they now? What hobby or cute thing are they doing?

Fifth Point: Conclusion. Are they happily in love? What are they doing that the requestor loves to do? Final information and cuteness can be added.

(I think matchups are just mini drabbles, so I write mine like a fanfic that's been split into five pieces, but everyone's matchups are different!)

(P.S. It helps me to separately write their request down in a notebook, and highlight their likes, dislikes, hobbies, and so on; so I don't have to scroll or go to a separate tab to find their request and read it again.) :)

I hope that helps? I feel like I am rambling! But, that is basically what I do. What I truly know is this really takes practice. But, you can totally message me, (if you feel comfortable in doing so), if you need any additional help with anything. I would be more than happy to help you along in the process!

Good Luck!

-Chloe

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

Firstly, THE COMMENTS ON THE TEXT CONVIS POST!!! I'M PISSING 😭😭 He's so desparate, I can see him killing another assassin and stealing his phone just to text us to unblock him

About giivng Mandy a sibling, I think Tan would consider it since he'll want her to have someone like he has Lem

Also, Mandy swearing because she accidently heard Tan swear once?

You said his look can be intimitating, even if it's soft. Imagine we look away or hide in his shoulder, so he softly grabs our face to make us look at him. 🫠🫠

Buying him lolipops to replace a cig for when he can't smoke? And they're cherry flavor? :))

Sorry I'm always asking those things but have you thought about a backstory for us and Tan? I made one but I think it sounds kinda silly so I don't know if I should send it

I know I sound like a broken record since I already said this in like 3 already. I really do enjoy being back and writing to you, I was afraid my love for him was fading away, I didn't like any ideas I wrote in my notes and was overall pretty sad. (He was still on my mind, it's as if this man made himself a cozy room in my brain and is never leaving) I got sick in january so I had to stay at home and thought I might as well rewatch the movie. So many scenes and snarky remarks of him got me thinking "oh yeah that's why I fell in love with him". So now I'm here again. I love reading your response as well as the comments. 💗💗  Sorry for the ramble I wanted to get it off my chest

(Just wanted to ask, the next time your requests will be open, would you be ok with writing a small fic, like 700 words? If no that's completly fine !! I already saved a headcanon and small drabble for next time :)) Planning on sending more text convos this weekend

Also love your atj shirt. Might have to get a custom one for my bday <3 💺 anon

— right??? 😭😭😭 omg yes!! or even having to go out and get another sim card in order to text you. he probs has a stash of miscellaneous blocked ones piled somewhere

— he so would!! he would want her to have a best friend in sibling form. he wants for her to have someone she can talk to when older. and all those sibling bonding things

— she definitely has😭😭 I believe fuck is an easy one to say?? so that might be her first

— AAARDFGH !!! YES YEA YEAH YUP YEP

— super super cute!!! and cherry!! sneaky, I like it

— you know what, I actually haven’t. I prefer civilian readers, so it’s a little difficult bc being assassin would be easier to connect. but I have a concept idea of their relationship, but not how they met. don’t be daft, nothing you’ll send would be silly. you’re more than welcome to send it in if you’re comfortable. there’s no such thing as silly around here

— I really do as well!! it’s actually fun to talk to someone about him like this rather than myself all the time😭 awh!!! im glad you’re back into him now !! (and hope you’re feeling better now) never be sorry, thank you for sharing 💓💓

— they’re still open if you want to send something in, luckily been working through my inbox pretty fast so now I have a decent enough backlog in my drafts. and yes, ofc, that’s absolutely fine angel. looking forward to the text convos!! they were real fun

— AAAAH THANK YOU!! yes yes get one!! and happy birthday in advance if it’s coming up soon, if it is send in an ask so I can wish you a HBD💓

[maydays-writings]

The Information Kiosk

Last Updated: 4/8/2023 (11:53 PM GMC-5)

Number of Requests Open [5/5] Welcome! Here lies writings of all sorts, from that feel-good fluff to the most painful angst!

(Minus the dirty stuff, we don't do that here...)

My Main Blog is maydays-medbay, and all of my OCs are listed on the pinned post

I write for a lot of continuities, however the requests that I will be taking will be mild for the time being. I am very rusty, and I don't want to overwhelm myself right from the get-go by taking all of the requests that I can.

I will mainly write for my OCs as of right now, but I will also make things for canon characters here and there depending on my mood (or if the prompt is really good...). I will NOT, however, be taking any reader insert requests. I don't feel as though I'd give them the justice that many other writers can, so I will avoid them until I become more comfortable with my writing style, speed, and feel as a whole. I hope you all understand.

Headcanon Posts will be under the #Mayday's Headcanons tag

Writing Posts will be under the #Mayday's Drabbles tag (even if they aren't exactly drabble-sized)

Certain characters will be labeled as such, as well as the continuity, au, genre, ship, or other associated tags

Anything that is a sensitive topic will be labelled with #Sensitive Content as well as what the topic is

The current continuities that I write for are Transformers Prime, Beast Wars Transformers and IDW/MTMTE. I am most comfortable with them, so I can do them best. Other continuities will be a...struggle at best.

For more information about my [current] request guidelines, refer to the stuff below the cut! Thank you, and I hope you enjoy your stay!

Styles of writing will include both headcanons and normal writing. The length of these will vary depending on my mood and how many ideas that I have over the subject. It's very situational. Though feel free to request a specific type, or none at all.

The actual information inside the request can be rather vague or descriptive. That's up to the individual giving the request. A full on scenario is fine too, if you've thought of one that you want to see.

I will write for darker content here and there (including some triggering topics), but I might struggle with these a little and they will take more time. I never want to write them in a romantic light, so I take my time and do as much research for the topic as possible to avoid that. (If I ever accidentally do lean towards romanticizing something PLEASE tell me so I can fix it or take the fic down altogether)

Specific characters and genre are not always required together, but at least one should be in the request to make my writing easier to make. The characters can be either canon or OCs, it's up to you.

Ship requests are fine, so long as the actual pairing isn't something like MegaStar or OverPan.

I also don't write NSFW, kink, or ships that include certain types of problematic content like P3dophilia or Inc3st. Don't send in requests including them, simple as that.

If there is a certain ship or character that I don't write for then I'll ignore the request until I can add that specific thing to a "Won't Write" list.

REQUEST EXAMPLES:

Hi! How about something angsty? Like, someone gets hurt and then is found by another character, and they freak out when the hurt character passes out?

Do you think you could do a fluffy work regarding [X] ship? Maybe something kind of domestic?

What are your headcanons for [X] character in [X] continuity for [X] AU?

What do you think about [X] character?

I hope these kind of show off what I mean (I'm kind of terrible at explaining stuff lol)

[moonstruckme]

hello! i hope this doesn’t come off as rude or anything as this isn’t a personal question but something i’ve just been curious about for a while now.

what’s your opinion on people here sending a request they have sent to you before to a different author? particularly for a prompt/request that you have no plans of working on?

i do think it’s weird and disrespectful to all parties involved if someone sent the same exact request to authors at the same time, especially with the likelihood of two or more authors actually proceeding to write a fic/drabble based on it. but i also think that it should be a courtesy, for the lack of a better word in mind, to let them know that it would be quite unlikely for their request to happen?

i would really love your insights on this because it’s been on my mind for a while now. you were the one that i decided to send this to because i felt that you would have a logical and understandable explanation on whatever your answer will be. also because, i think, and know, that you get a ton of requests per day so i’m very curious on how that works for you.

It doesn't come off as rude! So yeah I do find it disrespectful to send the same request to multiple writers at the same time. I don't like being treated like vending machines that you put a request into and a piece of writing comes out, and it does sort of feel like that when someone sends a request around just to see who will do it for them. Also, like you've pointed out, it puts the writers who may have done the same request in an awkward position because then we're asking each other "should I take mine down? it's really similar to yours" and I hate that because it's not their fault and not mine, so it's not fair that we feel guilty about it.

Now, if I pass on a request for some reason (usually because it has something against my guidelines) or the requestor ask if I'm planning on writing it and I say no, that's totally fair game! I get that people want their requests written of course, and while I can't write every one I do try to be honest about which ones I'm passing on so that they can try to get that opportunity somewhere else. The reason I don't reply to every request I don't plan on doing is because when I first got on here I did that a few times and had people get upset at me for just not vibing with their request. I know most of you on here are really understanding, but I just don't want to open myself up to that negative energy. I know it's not very fair to people who have chosen me to write their requests, but if you'd like to ask and you're willing to not be upset about the answer, you can go ahead. To be blunt, this blog is a safe space for me and when people make it feel not fun, I am more likely to stop doing things like telling people when I'm not writing their requests, even if it's not everyone's fault.

I hope this doesn't sound rude or anything, I want to be candid because you've asked but also I've had to be a bit harsh at times to get people (a very few people, who I know aren't a reflection of the majority) to stop pestering me. Thank you for asking nicely and I hope this answers your question very fully! I went on possibly way too long haha

[wonwoonlight]

📣: boyfriend!Seungcheol // meeting the members // fluff // 700~ words

A/N: AHHHH i love this kinda prompt so much hheheh thank you for making me write this anon 🙈 i hope you enjoy this as much as i had fun writing it ^^ this guy rly been wrecking me along w jihoon these days ;-;

find the rest of requested drabble here

Currently, you’re fidgeting in front of Seventeen’s practice room with a bag of kimbap rolls on your hands. Seungcheol has been wanting to introduce you to his members for some time now and, truthfully, you’re scared out of your mind. You don’t simply wish for a good impression, but you feel like the will is bigger because Seungcheol is their leader and eldest brother, it wouldn’t do if you’re someone they don’t approve of.

Seungcheol has texted you earlier practice will end in more or less an hour and you should come by then; all because you say you’re curious how big their practice room really is so your wonderful boyfriend thinks might as well kill two birds with one stone.

You haven’t told him you’ve arrived, mostly because you’re too busy freaking out while his manager, who’s known you for quite some time now, only laughs at you for being so nervous when he’s helped you get in the building. Plus, it’s not like he could check his phone now, you can see from the little window at the door that they’re discussing something with their trainer.

A few minutes later, it is Jeonghan who discovers you behind the door, courtesy of him going out first because he wants to go to the restroom.

“Oh? You are…?” You haven’t gotten the chance to say anything when his cheshire grin is out, recognizing you from the few pictures in Seungcheol’s phone. You blink when he suddenly pushes you into the room as if you’ve been friends with him for so long, his arm on your shoulder as he calls for their attention. “Guys, Seungcheol’s girlfriend is here.”

The way their heads turn to you, including Seungcheol’s, is almost comical.

“When did you arrive?!” your boyfriend asks, already on your side with a few strides. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Uhh, not long ago. Your manager helps me in,” you smile sheepishly, and then you show him the bag you’ve been holding since earlier. “I brought kimbap?”

“Pretty and caring, I approve,” Jeonghan says from the side with an appreciative nod, taking the bag from you. “Are you guys just going to stand there instead of welcoming or newest in-law here?”

You can feel your neck getting warm from the title, and Seungcheol shakes his head at Jeonghan, used to his antics. He sends you an apologetic glance, but you just smile because it’s somewhat amusing even to you. Eventually, Seungcheol introduces you to everyone, telling them not take their jokes too far because Shua is already singing you praises for being a good in-law by bringing in food.

“Where did you buy these?” Mingyu asks, moaning at the kimbap in his mouth. “These are so good.”

“Uhh, I made them myself,” you scratch your neck, a bit embarrassed but glad that the members seem to enjoy the food. “I’m glad you liked it.”

Soonyoung says something with cheeks stuffed with food, his voice is muffled but you guess it’s something along the line of ‘you’re not allowed to break up with hyung now, ok?’ and you just laugh in embarrassment at their compliments over kimbap.

“They’re not always this rowdy, I promise,” Seungcheol whispers to your ear. “Probably just excited to meet you because they’ve been asking to meet you too.”

“You talk about me to them?” you ask, surprised but pleasantly so.

He nods as if it’s obvious, biting into his own share of kimbap before replying. “Of course. Why would I not? We’ve been dating for months.”

“More like he never shuts up about you,” Jeonghan chirps in from beside you. “Nothing bad, though. Thanks for taking care of our Coups.”

Shua nods from the side, making Seungcheol rolls his eyes at the duo. “We know he could be a lot, so we’re glad you’re hanging in there with him.”

You laugh at them, delighted that you get to see this banter for real instead of snippets from Seungcheol who’s whining about being their victim over and over again. Seungcheol shakes his head in mock exhaustion, though his hand find yours under his thigh, hidden from his brothers’ sights so no one will be able to tease him more than they’re already doing.

[jungshookz]

Imagine jimin dancing without shirt because it's to hot and the whole class sees him😳

no need to imagine baby i gotchu 

this was supposed to be super short but i said that to myself like two hours ago and it turned into,.,.., thIS..,,. so if balletteacher!jimin doesn’t win the poll at least the ballet!couple stans have,.,.,. WHATEVER THIS IS 

➺ pairing; balletteacher!jimin x ballerina!y/n

➺ genre; i literally cannot focus because i keep staring at this gif so just assume this drabble is as hot as jimin i,.,.,. i am about to go into my jimin phase again,.,. 

➺ wordcount; i don’t know i am so out of it right now (1.7k) 

(unfortunately i wasn’t able to track down the original maker of this gif but this is where i sourced it from! all credits go to the original creator of course :-))

                                       »»————-　🔥　————-««

“sorry i couldn’t make it to brunch last week and... the week before that… but i can definitely join you guys this week!” you chirp, pausing for a second so you can quickly pull your hair into a flimsy low bun, “there’s this place that has these massive waffles and you can pour as much syrup on it as you want on them-” you take your duffle bag out before slamming your locker shut and turning around, “plus-”

you immediately stop talking when you realize that you’re all alone in the changing room

you blink twice before reaching up to scratch your head

what the heck

…how long have you been talking to yourself for??

there are still bags and shoes and loose articles of clothing sitting on benches and hanging out of lockers but it’s just that their owners have completely disappeared

“guys?” you frown, zipping your hoodie up as you step over items littering the ground to make your way to the door, “i know i’ve been really flaky with our dates and stuff but you don’t have to abandon me mid-conversation to prove a point-” you poke your head out of the changing room, holding your breath for a second to see if you can hear anything

“-is someone filming this or what??”

“shh!!”

“move over, let me look too-”

that’s odd

“guys…?” you lower your voice as you approach the girls cautiously, raising a brow at the sight of them crowding around the door of the classroom, “is there, like- some kind of hip-hop class or something-”

you can practically feel the vibrations of the bass pumping through the floorboards as you get closer and closer, the sound of muffled thumping leaking out through the crack in the door

“y/n!” lisa turns her head when she hears you, slipping out of the group with a giggle and gesturing for you to hurry and come over, “there you are, silly- i thought you followed us-”

“follow- well, class is over and we’re all changing out of our unitards so i didn’t know i had to follow you guys anywhere-” you snort, leaning over a little to look at the group of giddy girls again, “let me guess - those boys from that other dance academy came to use our rooms again-”

“guys, move out of the way so y/n can take a look-” lisa swats at jisoo’s back gently, the girls whispering to each other excitedly as they step aside to let you through

“no way!” seulgi chirps, popping her head up at the front of the group, “you snooze, you lose, y/l/n-”

“c’mon, seulgi, don’t be like that-” lisa tuts, shoving at your back to force you through the tightly packed group, “everyone should get a chance to see this-”

“see what?! what is going on-”

“fine, but i’m only giving you one minute-” seulgi wags a finger at you before stepping down from the ledge, wrapping her hand around your elbow and yanking you up, “sixty seconds.”

“can i just say that you guys get so weird whenever those boys come to-” your mouth immediately goes dry the second you turn your head and peer through the crack, all the blood in your body rushing up to congregate in your face, “oh, dear god-”

you were certainly right about all this commotion being caused because of men

except, in this case, it’s just because of one man

you watch in shock as a very shirtless jimin slams his arms down mid-air against the beat, twirling around in the spot with his head tilted back

he slides a hand down his chest until he reaches the waistband of his sweatpants, lifting a leg and thrusting his hips forward with a grunt

his tongue pokes out in between his lips before it curls upwards and you swallow dryly when you feel your stomach flutter

out of all the things you were expecting to see when you looked into the classroom, it definitely wasn’t this

you’ve never seen jimin dance outside of a classical setting so this is very… very…

wow

this is very wow

“god, i wanna fuck him.” seulgi sighs dreamily, twirling a strand of hair around her finger, “i love men. don’t you love men?”  

“men- i-” you force yourself to snap out of your daze, letting out a nervous chuckle as you turn to look at seulgi, “this- to be honest, this feels like a private moment, you know? i-i feel like we should probably leave now before he catches us-”

“oh my god, you always get so weird around mr. park!” seulgi scoffs, rolling her eyes before pursing her lips, “you can appreciate his beauty without feeling bad, y/n. relax a little!”

you press your lips together as you take a second to think through her response

…

what are you even thinking about?

of course you know you can appreciate his beauty!

you have personally appreciated his beauty in private many, many times but of course no one knows that

but maybe if you quit acting so weird and twitchy, seulgi will finally give you a break and will stop giving you crap about how nervous you get around mr. park

for the record, the only reason why you get so sweaty and weird whenever the conversation shifts to how attractive mr. park is is because you’re scared you’ll accidentally let something slip one day and screw everything up

the other day lisa was wondering out loud if mr. park had a six-pack or an eight-pack and you were about to respond with a ‘it’s a six-pack but he’s getting to an eight-pack if i’m being honest-‘ but LUCKILY you stopped yourself before all of that word vomit spewed out of your mouth

obviously she got her answer today after spying on him dancing half-naked

“in fact, i think it’d be good for you to appreciate his beauty up close so you can finally join in on our conversations…” seulgi clears her throat, pushing herself up from the wall as she zeroes in on you 

“yeah, well, i think my sixty seconds is up, so maybe- oh!” you gasp when you feel two hands shove at your back and you don’t get a chance to even process the fact that you’re being pushed before-

the door ricochets against the wall with a smack! after you get pushed into the room, your palms slapping against the wooden floor immediately to keep yourself from knocking a tooth out

“y/n!” jimin snaps out of his intense concentration when he sees you stumble into the room behind him in the mirror, turning to look at you with wide eyes before hurrying over to the stereo to turn the music off, “are you alright??”

“fine! i-i’m fine- i’m good-” you sneakers squeak against the ground as you scramble to your feet, glancing back to glare at a very smug-looking seulgi  

why is she always getting you into these situations?!

…how do you always let her get you into these situations?!

“i’m so sorry for… i… um…” 

you know this isn’t the first time you’ve seen his skin glisten with sweat but something about the way the light is hitting jimin is making you feel a little lightheaded

the corner of jimin’s mouth curls into a knowing smirk when he notices the way your eyes lower from his face to his body, “i was… you see, i-”

“you were…” he coos mockingly, tilting his head as he makes his way back over to you, “you were what, bab-”

“the girls!” you interrupt frantically, stepping aside to gesture towards the large group of girls still crowded by the door, “the- the girls wanted me to- uh, they wanted me to ask you a question so i- that’s why i’m in here.”

jimin’s face pales slightly when he notices the girls standing by the door

oh

whoops

“oh, of course!” he clears his throat loudly before taking a step back from you, the two of you exchanging panicked glances before he bends down to pick his shirt up, “what was the question?” he slides his shirt back on

“there’s no question, sir-” seulgi chimes in before pausing for a second, “however, as the obvious group leader here, i’d like to say on behalf of everyone that you are very welcome to demonstrate this dance in class if you’d like-”

the girls immediately burst into laughter and jimin snorts before reaching up to scratch the back of his neck bashfully

“very funny, ladies-” jimin shakes his head before gesturing for everyone to go, “go and get out of here! i’ll see all of you next week-”

“have a good weekend, mr. park!”

“goodbye, mr. park!”

“bye, mr. park!!”

you wait until you hear everyone’s voices drift further and further away before scurrying over to the door and peering around it to make sure no one’s around

“coast is clear.” you let out a breath of relief to see that the hallway is empty before turning around to- “oh!” you jump when you end up bumping right into jimin, stumbling back a little before reaching out to press your hand flat against his chest so you can shove him back into the room, “what is the matter with you?? you already know all the people here drool over you on a daily basis and you still go around half-naked and- and thrust your hips like that-”

“what, you didn’t like it?” jimin teases, wrapping his fingers around your wrist so he can pull your hand down and slide it underneath his shirt

“hey-” you feel your entire face flush the moment your hand comes into contact with the ridges of his firm abdomen and you slip your hand out quickly, jimin laughing at your reaction before reaching up to pinch your cheek

“all i’m saying is that you weren’t exactly against my thrusting last night, miss y/l/n-”

“jimin!”

🎙️help me help you make your wishes come true (send me a request!)

✨why don’t you explore the rest of the library while you’re here? (full fics!)

💫or perhaps you want something shorter to read? (drabbles!)

🌟or something even shorter? (teeny tidbits just like this one!)

[loth-wolffe]

Hello hello! Congratulations on your milestone!! So happy for you!!

I really like your blog and your writing! I LOVE how you write soft crosshair.

I wanted to know if I could request a fic with the one and only Captain Rex?

With number 9 and 39 from the lyrics prompt list, pretty please?

Something along the lines of them not having seen each other in a while, cuz you know, the clone wars.

they are kinda nervous, afraid the other doesn't feel the same way anymore :'(

BUT THEY DO LOVE EACH OTHER SO SO SO MUCH IT HURTS AND IT'S LIKE REUNION, HAPPY TEARS, LONG AWAITED KISSES AND HUGS.

I JUST- WHAT THE HELL I- THANK YOU SO MUCH??? youre so kind! *sends a kiss to a planet Earth image* for u, wherever u are. anyways this ask is FANTASTIC OMG. thank you so so so so much for requesting this.

also added my sweet @intergalactic-padawan request that was prompt 43 bc I realized I was writing pretty much the same thing so yeah.

hope you guys like it!

It's been a long, long time.

Pairings: Captain Rex x reader (no y/n)

Prompts: 9. Honey just put your sweet lips on my lips, we should just kiss like real people do. - Like real people do by Hozier, 39. I thought that I was dreaming when you said you loved me. - Ivy by Frank Ocean and 43. Kiss me once, then kiss me twice, then kiss me once again, it's been a long, long time. - It's been a long, long time by Harry James

Warnings: a bit sad I think? reader feels very anxious bc they don't know if rex loves them still. but it's fluff I swear. like, very very very fluffy.

Word count: 1,1k bc I can't control myself and make actual drabbles.

He had been away for too long. You had begun to forget his touch, the sweet taste of his lips, the goosebumps his fingers left on your skin, the warmth of his caress. Days blurred together with the only constant thing being how much you missed him, heart longing, aching quietly, mourning for the emptiness it feels, tired, desperate, for the day Rex comes back to fill it again.

There were nights where you fell asleep with tears running down your cheeks, afraid you might never see him, trying to forget the dull ache your heart felt with every beat it gave, breaking just a little bit for him, swelling with love for a man you barely saw.

You hated him sometimes, just to justify the torrent of emotions that slowly consumed you with every day that passed, a filthy lie you told yourself to push away the pain, the tears that gathered in your eyes, how the memory of him fogged your mind and couldn't, wouldn't, let you rest. You hated how much you loved him, and in the anger of it you wished he felt the same, but then again you didn't, because maybe the ghost of you distracted him enough to make him sloppy, careless, maybe your ghost stopped him from coming back to you, took his hand and dragged him away.

It became a habit, to wake up in an empty bed, make your own caf, and wait for the day to end. The empty spot he left always following you around, and you learned to dance around it, never touching it, never moving it, but letting it be, becoming one with you because you'd rather have that than nothing at all.

It was all routine, one that slowly stuck to your nature, with him becoming a presence you that scarred you, probably, for life.

Quick texts and short conversations was all you got from Rex, unable to give you more, and for you to ask for more, leaving you both in a limbo, not knowing where you stood anymore.

Which led you to this moment, nervousness bubbling in your chest like some sort of venom, thick and foul, spreading through your body fast and corrosive.

His shuttle had just arrived, and between the many troopers you were looking for his distinctive uniform, the pauldron standing tall and the Jaig eyes making the search easier.

You feel sick at the mere thought of having him in front of you.

Does he looks the same? Same hair, a new scar maybe? Will he still like how you laugh, or call his name? Does he kiss, touch, feel the same? Do you?

Does he love you still?

It's been too long, too long.

You fidget with your shirt and your eyes sometimes find the floor, flickering through the different buckets, a couple of Jedi pass by, some pilots, a few droids. No one is your man.

Anxiety starts to make you feel dizzy, sound begins to feel too distant, and has your heart always been beating this quick? You can't breath properly.

Where is Rex? Is he–

Tears fill your eyes as a sigh leaves you, relief washing over you as find him, uniform a bit dirtier than the last time you saw it, blasters at both his sides and the kamas move matching the confidence he carries himself with as he comes to meet you. You can't see his face and the fact stirs something unpleasant in you, self doubt slowly poking it's ugly head.

Are you still beautiful in his eyes?

You always hated the way his helmet shields him from you, not letting you know what he's feeling, is he disgusted, happy, sad? Is he as nervous as you are? You can never tell.

Your head falls slightly once he's in front of you, and you're glad he can't hear the frenetic beat of your heart.

He calls your name with a formality that surprises you, you look everywhere but him, searching new scratches in his armour, finding a few stains that weren't there before.

He doesn't make any sign that he might want to hug you or touch you, and neither do you, standing at a safe distance that it might look like you're just co-workers or less.

Your hand itches to feel him.

"Rex." You let out, trying to find his eyes behind the bucket, he looks stiff, frozen, like something weights on him heavy and awkward.

Your mind wanders to the worst of places.

He lifts his bucket and tucks it under his arm, shy eyes search for something in yours, and yours searching for anything that might be different from the last time you got to see his pretty face.

No new scars –not visible at least–, same short blond hair, same irises that remind you of the sun and that matches it's warmth. He looks just the same, yet you don't know if his feelings stayed.

Maybe... maybe he met someone else, what if he–?

"Hi." He says in a breath, as if he had been holding it for far too long, and is enough for your tears to cascade down your cheeks as a smile breaks through your face.

"Hi yourself, trooper."

Rex wraps your body in his arms, pulling you flush against him, face hiding in your neck as he breathes you in. He almost cries, right then and there, you smell just like he remembered, like something sweet, something like home.

It's comforting, really, to know nothing has changed between you two in a galaxy that always seems to be.

And just like that, you know you're fine.

You whisper his name, and when he looks up he wastes no time in pressing your lips together, a tender little touch that is just a taste of what's to come, of what words can't express, and you find yourself holding him tighter, afraid he might be an illusion, a dream, a distant memory you thought forgotten. But it's still there. He is here. Kissing you like real people do, not a vision, not a wish nor a dream.

It is him in your arms, and you in his.

"I love you," Rex blurts when you pull away for air, in a whisper, as if he didn't want anyone but you to hear, scared of rejection but even more scared of you never knowing. His lips brush with yours, uncertain, timid, foreheads touching.

You feel like dreaming, like you're walking over the clouds, floating away in a perpetual state of pure love, heart feeling so full you might think it's about to explode.

"Kiss me." You plead and he delivers, pushing you to the closest supply box, inhaling sharply when your nails softly scratch the skin at the nape. It's filled with a longing that had been caged for too long, and it's messy, teeth clashing and noses bumping, tongues re-exporing and you don't think you have felt this good in a long time.

Before he can pull away properly, you connect your lips again, and again, and again, until they are swollen and you're panting for air.

It's been too long, and you have missed him so much, and you don't know how to tell him, how to let him know all and every emotion that has tormented you since you met him, so you try to summarize it in four simple, but powerful words.

"I love you too."

taglist: @foodandbooksplease @dottiechan @ladykatakuri @tacticalsparkles @lightning-wolffe @baroclinicinstability @murdertoothpick @m-o-o-n-s-g-o-o-n-s @space-girl-and-droids-art @shygirl268 @hellothere-generalangsty

[xpeachesncream]

restart | eleven

↱ SEQUEL TO PERFECTLY WRONG  |  series masterlist ↰

summary: as you and taehyung start to build your life together post graduation, things become more complicated than what you expected it to be. while taehyung struggles with his inner demons, you’ve become the sole supporter, the pillar, juggling different jobs to keep you two afloat. your love for each other has been put to the test as your relationship continues to face hurdles - hurdles that have you questioning whether or not your relationship will make it through.

pairing: reader x fiancé!kth

genre: post grad au, established relationship au | fluff, angst, smut

words: 3.3k

warnings: cussing/mature language, angst, thoughts on overdrive, anxiety

notes: um, there’s about 3 chapters left ☹️ i won’t be taking drabble requests right away just to give myself a little break and work on bands for a bit, BUT-- i think i might be working on something else in the meantime? i’ll let you guys know lol ily a milli 💗

tags: @enchantaeduniverse​ @thedarkwinterrose​ @jeontier​ @jwlmnbt​ @bluesharksandfish​ @ra-mun-e @brightcolorsoffendme​ @jungcrookthecookbook​ @sunniejinnie​ @littlewolfieposts​ @vanntaesworld​ @thebeebi​ (please message me if you would like to be added to the taglist!)

"Look, I—"

"No, Aiko. You know damn well I deserve to hear this from you too no matter what the outcome was. It takes two to tango." You step a little closer to her as you feel your bottom lip trembling. Just looking at her makes your stomach drop. You remember all the times that you felt insecure, and truly inferior especially after those nudes she used to send.

Fuck, Taehyung.

Maybe she was just always going to be a weakness for Tae, and that was it.

God, you want to hurl. But you keep yourself composed because it's here now. There's really no turning back.

"Hey." Jin gently squeezes your wrist and gives you a reassuring look. "It's okay." He mouths out.

"Do you have to be here while we do this?" Aiko shoots Jin a look.

"Of course I do. I'm not leaving her side. Why are you suddenly so shy when you've been sharing your nudes with everyone, let alone men in relationships?" Jin snaps back with that glare of his. But this didn't surprise you, Jin was always direct. He would never shy away from telling you like it is. All Aiko can do is roll her eyes at him before letting out a small sigh and bringing her attention back to you.

"Can we just cut to the chase here? I'm not exactly here to be friends." You say as calmly as possible. "Why did Taehyung come to see you?" Which, you curse yourself under your breath once you ask the question because why the fuck else would he come and see her? You were just too busy trying to sway away from the truth.

"He just asked to come see me. For specifics, I'm sure you and I both know what the intention was behind it." You feel sick, but you swallow the lump in your throat and slowly nod your head.

"So, um—"

"No, he didn't Y/N." She cuts you off and looks at you, her facial expression softening. "He didn't do it."

"W-what?"

"He came here and left. Said this was a mistake and that he would never do this to you." Jin's grip tightens around your wrist for whatever reason, you can't really decipher the signal right now. You honestly had a hard time believing her at the moment, and it has even gotten to the point where you think they've both created this story to tell you. However, when you look at her, her body language isn't defensive, nor does she seem like she's hiding anything. There's a small frown creeping up at the corners of her lips as she watches you.

She watches how you fiddle with your fingers, and how you always seem to swallow the lump in your throat every 5 seconds, slyly looking up to prevent the tears from coming down.

"O-oh."

"Look, I'm really sorry for having caused any trouble and I know I'm probably still not going to be on your favorites list for the way I acted with Jin—" She quickly looks at him. "And with Taehyung. But, if there's really one thing that I help with right now, I can tell you that he truly does love you." She tightens the way her arms are crossed close to her chest as she lets out another shaky sigh. "I know it's terrible that the thought was there for the both of us, but he would never do anything to hurt you. He can't. You mean too much to him, Y/N."

"I— don't really know what to say."

"He's set on you. There's no changing that for him." She says, and you can catch the hurt in her voice. The way her tone dips a little when she tells you there's no changing that for him. She still had feelings for him, and this shouldn't be anything new to you.

"Thanks." Aiko does nothing besides purse her lips into a tight line.

"Yup." You look at Jin, and he simply nods at Aiko before he's slightly pushing you to walk away from the door and down the stairs. But, before you could fully get yourself down a step, Aiko calls out for you both. "Hey."

"Hm?"

"He's lucky to have someone like you. I hope he learns from whatever he's going through." You take one last look at her before you silently head down the steps with Jin and situate yourself in his passenger seat.

"So, what now?" Jin asks as he drives off.

"I honestly don't know." The scene of him begging you not to go replays in your head and your heart shatters all over again. You don't know if you're upset with yourself or if you're still upset with him. Actually - yes, you still were upset with him because he had the fucking nerve. The fucking thought. You couldn't get over that. But part of you felt relieved knowing he didn't move forward with it? Or, that he was fucking smart enough at the very least to fix himself the very last minute.

"You can't avoid him forever."

"No, I know that. I just don't know what to say to him." You turn to Jin. "Is it really bad for me to want him to make this work? I don't wanna be the one that goes to him first, not after all of this. I'm tired. I just want to believe that he still wants me the same way he did before."

"I'm sure he hasn't changed."

"Jin, the thought still crossed his mind."

"I know and it's not okay whatsoever but I do have to give it to him for realizing it before."

"I don't know. I guess, yeah." You look down at your lap. "What if he just doesn't fix this? I'm scared of being upped and left again." The sudden thought of your ex popping up, along with all the nights you cried yourself to sleep - waking up with a pounding headache and dry eyes.

"He's not going to." Jin says reassuringly. "I really do believe he'll get this right, but just like you needed time, he does too. I know you had a hard time and a lot of things hurt you, but Taehyung had his own demons to battle and that's never easy. He's trying."

"Yeah." Is all you respond with.

"Do you need more clothes?"

"No, I don't think so. If anything I'll just ask one of the boys to grab me something."

"Okay." Jin continues to drive off and back to his apartment. You keep your gaze outside of the window until your phone vibrates in your lap.

[taehyung♡] 6:05pm: can we talk tonight? i know you might not be ready, but i honestly don't want to put this off any longer. i need to see you.

Your breathing hitches and Jin can feel that something has suddenly changed in your mood. You stare at your phone, unsure if you want to cry or if you're relieved to see Taehyung pop up on your screen. You wanna cry cause of course it still hurts to know the thought crossed his head; you'll never forget that for a second, Taehyung thought about risking everything you've built together just to feel wanted, needed, whatever the hell it was. For a second, he pushed you aside because he was ready to let Aiko back in.

But then you also are relieved because fuck, even if it hasn't been long, part of you felt like he was truly going to give up. That he wasn't going to try anymore. That he didn't think this was worth fixing. That you and him just weren't meant to be together. After all this, of course you still loved him. You loved him deeply - so, so deep, that thought of you without him is probably what hurts the most. He meant everything to you.

"What is it?"

"He wants to talk tonight."

"I'm telling you, you can't avoid him forever."

"Should I do it?"

"Are you ready to? Just because I say you can't avoid him forever doesn't mean you have to talk to him right at this moment, especially if you aren't ready." You look at Jin.

"This is so fucked up, because after everything, I still miss him. And I want to see him. I just don't know what I'd say though."

"Why don't you be honest about everything, yeah? How it made you feel, you confronting Aiko. Let him know that if this does work out, he'll really need to learn from it and understand how hurt you were."

"I know."

"So are you going to see him?"

"Yeah, I think so." Your hands became clammy as you picked up your phone and responded.

[y/n] 6:11pm: yeah, sure.

[taehyung♡] 6:13pm: is it okay if i pick you up from jin hyung's?

[y/n] 6:15pm: yeah, that's fine.

[taehyung♡] 6:16pm: be there in about 15 minutes.

As soon as you put your phone down, Jin is turning into his parking garage and parking into his assigned spot. You quietly walk up the steps, feeling the anxiety settle in. How was this night going to go? Were you going to have to move your stuff out permanently? Move in with Jin or Jungkook until you could figure things out? You already felt terrible enough having spent these past nights in Jin's bed while he slept out on the couch. He insisted he was fine with it, but still.

What if Taehyung really just wanted to talk to tell you that this was done?

Fuck.

Your anxiety is bubbling in your stomach as the minutes go by, 15 minutes seemingly coming a lot slower than it usually does on any other given day. But, it eventually comes and it comes by Taehyung texting you that he's downstairs. You zip up your jacket, fixing up your appearance just a teeny bit because this was still Taehyung. Jin is eating dinner as he waves you off, setting your bowl aside on the kitchen counter for you to eat later when you get back [if you're hungry].

You feel your pulse on your neck, and your ears are slightly ringing because of how nervous you are. You catch a glimpse of him through the lobby doors and you instantly feel weak, and you fucking hated that effect he had on you. He looks at you as you near the passenger door, slipping yourself in without making much eye contact.

"Hey." He says softly as he drives off.

"Hey."

"You eat already?"

"Nope, haven't been too hungry." His heart sinks at the statement.

"Let me know if you want me to stop by anywhere afterwards to get you some food."

"I'll be fine, thanks." You say, keeping your eyes on the passing view outside of the passenger window. The ride is awfully quiet, nothing but the thoughts in your head making noise. You realize he's taking you down towards the nearby beach, parking his car in front of the ocean view. When he shifts the gear to park and shuts off his lights, he slightly sinks in his seat and lets out a sigh.

"Y/N." He says, breaking the silence. You slightly turn your head towards him, eyeing him every now and then through your peripherals. "I'm sorry." He says, close to a whisper as his head drops and he begins to cry.

"Do you even know what you're sorry for, Taehyung?" You ask, your voice cracking when you look at him to see how torn up he is.

"Baby, of course I do." He looks at you through his teary eyes. "I'm so sorry for hurting you, I'm sorry for ever making you question your worth, I'm sorry for causing you so much trouble and pain while all you've done was be there for me. I'm just.. sorry for not being there when I should have been. I should have never let you go through this alone."

"You have no idea how it's been all this time. I was your fiancé, Taehyung. I was trying to be there for you through everything you were feeling, experiencing, whatever it was. I tried. And all you did was push me aside and you still ended up pointing your fingers at me. Almost cheating on me, even? The thing that feels so unforgivable and so painful is the fact that for a second, you really believed risking everything we've built together was worth it."

"I know and I fucked up. That was on me, 100%. I let everything get to the best of me and I was too dumb to see it right away. I fully acknowledge it and I never want to make you feel that way again. I miss you so much. You being away has been so difficult because I feel empty without you. It's been hard to be without you because I never pictured myself to be without you. I still can't."

"We were planning to get married, Tae." You begin to softly cry. "This isn't something you do when you get married to someone and build that life together with them. You can't—" You wipe your tears with a quick pause. "You can't just run off expecting things to be okay after they get brushed under the rug. How are we supposed to have a family together, grow old together, if we can't even fix these kinds of issues together?"

"Baby, I'm ready to do this with you. It's been a hell of a ride and I'm learning as I go. I know I haven't been perfect, or the best fiancé, but know I'm learning from this because I want to be the best for you and give you the world like you rightfully deserve. I'm so, so sorry, my love." He responds, wiping his tears in between before reaching for your hand and grabbing it. He brings your hand to his lips and presses a kiss against it, causing your heart to flutter. "I love you so much, I'm not giving up on us. I want to do better and you help me be a better man every day that we're together."

"I just want you to understand how much of a toll this took on me and our relationship. You really hurt me, and all I hope is that you do learn from this and become better from it. I love you so much, but I can't always save you. I can be there for you, but sometimes you have to help yourself and I don't know what I'll do if I have to go through this again."

"I know. And I said I wanted to do better, I'm gonna do this for us. I don't want to do this with anyone else. I'm ready to do this ride with you." You don't really have anything else to say, because you feel like you've made your point time and time again. Now, you just didn't know if you'd take this leap of faith again and trust him, or if you should let it be. You simply lean over to wipe his tears, but he keeps your palm against his cheek, pressing a kiss against it as he leans into your touch. "I'm in love with you, Y/N. More than you'll ever know." You sit back into your seat and give him a tiny smile before letting out a breath. You were nervous for what you were about to say, but you needed to say it. You just needed to be honest. This is what this time was about.

"I went to see Aiko earlier." His eyes shoot right at yours, but he doesn't say anything. "She told me you didn't do anything and that you left." You slightly nodded. "It's gonna be hard for me to let that go. But I hope you understand that I want to be the person you go to if things get rough, no one else. I want you to confide in me and tell me what you need so I can better provide. I don't want my man to be running off to someone else because they feel like they can't get a certain feeling or emotion reciprocated, especially without discussing the issue."

"I know, love. I know. I understand and hear you. I'm going to show you that you're the only one that matters to me, and I'll never make you doubt yourself ever again." You sigh and nod. He leans over to kiss you on the forehead, but retreats back to his seat without kissing you anywhere else because he still felt the need to give you space. The kiss sent shivers down your spine though, and it only really solidified the fact that he was the only one you still wanted. "I—um, talked with my parents."

"You did?" You ask softly. For some reason, this was something you weren't expecting to hear. You truly and honestly didn't think Tae was ever gonna try to mend his relationship with his parents, but this showed you that he wanted to try - with you and with them. Hopefully, at least.

"Yeah. I stayed there for a bit." He slightly smiles. "I'm gonna start working with my dad next week. We've been trying to do a lot to mend our relationship and spend more time together."

"I'm happy to hear that, Tae. I really am."

"Thank you for always pushing me to do better with them. There's a lot on their side that I had yet to better understand and vice versa."

"Of course." You say softly as you look at him. He was still the most beautiful man you had ever laid eyes on, even under the moonlight.

"Do you wanna head back to Jin hyung's now?"

"Sure. I think I've said what I needed to say."

"Come home, please." He says softly as he begins to drive off. "I want to work on mending us, and our relationship."

"I—I don't know. I want this, I do. But I think I just need time to process this? I don't really know. I have to be honest, I'm scared."

"That's okay, I understand. You have every right to feel that way, but I'll show you that you don't have to be. You know you're always welcome to come back whenever you're ready though, baby." But fuck, everything about this makes you so weak. You really did want to go back home and work on this. You just wanted to be with him. You were just scared. There's really no other way to put it. Scared of getting hurt, scared of falling into another trap.

The rest of the ride is quiet again, but it's obvious that the both of you feel a little better getting things off of your chest and talking things out. It didn't mean that everything was fixed though, but you could at least say you both were on the same page of working this out and fixing your relationship. And even though you weren't going home with him that minute, Taehyung can't help but feel hopeful that this will work out in the end. He wanted to do right by you, and he was going to. He was going to fix this, marry you, have a family with you, grow old with you - he was gonna do whatever it took to get you both back on track.

When you unbuckle your seatbelt, you turn to face Taehyung. He simply gives you a tiny, toothless smile before cupping your cheeks and kissing your forehead, then nose.

"I love you, babygirl." He kisses your nose once more, thumb lightly caressing your cheek. "I love you so much."

"I love you, too." You respond before quickly hopping out to prevent yourself from crying even more. You don't turn back and simply head into the elevators up to Jin's floor, straggling tears able to leave your eyes and lightly stain your cheeks.

"How was it?"

"Good, I think."

"What's the plan moving forward?" Jin asks as he leans onto the kitchen counter, watching you wipe your tears and nose.

"I think I'm gonna go home."

even when i'm on my own, i'm never alone and the silence sounds so loud, i'm feeling bound by the words i can't get out

track six: me and my mind - jazz morley

[devildom-tyrant]

Hi, sorry to bother you if you've done this already, but I've read your drabble where MC is comforted after a nightmare by the brothers (Mammon, Beel, and Satan) and it just makes me so soft I love it so much I keep rereading it. So I was wondering if you could do another with Asmo and Levi (and possibly Lucifer)? Obviously no pressure or anything, I'm a writer myself and understand that inspiration can be fleeting at times. Anyways, thank you, have a nice day/night!! 💖

You wake up yet again, jolting from your rest with your heart pounding in your throat.  It takes you several panicked breaths to realize that you’re in your room, safe in your bed, and it was just another nightmare that jarred you from your slumber.  

The details are foggy, but you can still remember the laughter, and the feeling of someone hating you with every fiber of their being to the point that they wanted you dead, that they were thrilled that you were dying.

Your bed sheets are a tangled mess around your legs, and you hastily kick them off, sitting upright and rubbing the sleep from your eyes with one hand, while you blindly reach for your D.D.D. with the other.  The screen lights up, showing that it’s past 3AM, and you fight back a groan.  You’re exhausted, but you know you won’t be able to go back to sleep like this.  And if you show up to class half-asleep again, everyone’s just going to worry about you.

You switch on your bedside lamp and weigh your options, your gaze riveted to your D.D.D.  

Lucifer

Automatically, you scroll to Lucifer’s name.  At this hour, he’s likely to be asleep, though you know that his work usually keeps him up rather late.  If you texted him, he would likely be worried... After all, you rarely reach out to him for help, not wanting to burden him when he has enough on his plate with Diavolo.  

Several minutes pass with your screen pulled up to your text messages with Lucifer, before you finally suck in a deep breath and hastily type out: “Are you awake?”  Before your mind talks you out of it, you hit Send and then immediately panic.  You really don’t want to tell Lucifer about the nature of the nightmares, nor do you want to admit to them in the first place and skew his view of you.  

An R for Read pops up next to the text, followed by three dots to indicate his typing, and you mentally flip your shit.

“I am now.  Why are you awake?”

Shit, did you wake him up?  You chew on your bottom lip, and carefully type out your response.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.  I was just having trouble sleeping and wondered if you might be up, that’s all.”

You follow that text with a sticker that’s sweat-dropping and smiling apologetically to keep it light-hearted.  Lucifer texts back immediately:

“Oh?”

“Come to my room then.”

You hesitate at that, your heart pounding in your chest.  Did he just--?  Is he asking you to--?

“We can talk or listen to one of my records if that might help you.  Or I may have some tea that could help.”

Oh.  Your panic eases a bit, and you acquiescence, typing out an All right before rising to your feet and making your way to his bedroom.  You feel as if you’re sneaking through the house, and it almost makes you feel guilty; it’s too quiet when everyone’s asleep.  However, you make it to Lucifer’s room without incident, and he opens the door before you even knock.  His expression is neutral, until he catches a glimpse of your tired, haggard appearance, which brings a light frown to his features.

“You look like hell,” he bluntly states, moving aside to let you in.

“I’m in hell,” you shoot back, to which he chuckles.

“Essentially.  But that’s never stopped you from sleeping before.”

His tone is pointed, and you feel as if he knows exactly why you can’t sleep.  He’s always been sharp, usually one step ahead -- or so it seemed until recently.  Now, you know he’s not infallible, and he doesn’t know your every move.  He’s fishing, hoping you’ll take the bait and talk to him about it.  But as much as you’d like to, you’re also stubborn -- and so very tired.  It’s a talk for another time.

“I’m sorry if I woke you up.  I thought you might be working late or something,” you admit, skirting the issue and taking a seat on the edge of his bed.  He quirks an eyebrow, but moves to sit at his desk.  

“Not this late on a school night.”

You can’t help but laugh, your thoughts a little more uncensored thanks to your lack of sleep.  “Sorry.  That sounded weird coming from you.”

“What?  It’s the truth.  Our little sleep study proved the importance of rest before classes, didn’t it?”  A smile plays at his lips at the thought of that, and the memory makes your cheeks heat up.  Suddenly, his bed feels huge, yet this room feels so small, drawing the two of you together.  You shouldn’t have come up here this late.  

“I--”  Part of you knows you should say that you can sleep now, that you’re fine, but you’re not.  “I wish I could sleep, but I’ve been... having nightmares, and they’re stupid, but I just...”

Your voice trails, and Lucifer moves from the chair to the bed in an instant, all traces of his teasing smile gone as he pulls you against his chest.  He doesn’t have to ask what they’re about; he knows.

He holds you in silence for a moment, while your heart hammers so hard, you know he can feels it.  Finally, his deep baritone murmurs, “I’m sorry.  I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

Your name comes out on his lips, and you feel your eyes watering, but you blink it away and shake your head.  “I’m okay.  I’m okay now.  Can we... lie down for a bit?”

The request comes out small, fearful of rejection, yet afraid of the acceptance as well.  Wordlessly, Lucifer lies back on the bed with you, his arms wound around you tight, one hand lightly trailing along your back.  You curl into him, burying your face in his chest (his heart’s beating quickly, too, some part of you registers), and slowly begin to drift asleep.

In your semi-consciousness, you realize Lucifer’s humming a melody you’ve never heard before, yet it makes you feel so safe.

Asmo

You know Asmo isn’t awake at this hour; he’s always told you that he needs plenty of beauty rest for his skin.  Still, you can’t help but click on his name, wishing that he was up so he could comfort you.  He’s so light-hearted, smiling and looping his arm through yours, and that casual intimacy has always put you at ease when you’re around him.  It makes it feel like you’ve known him forever. 

It’s that feeling that makes you type candidly, your thumb flying across the buttons.  

“I can’t sleep.”

If he doesn’t respond, then that’s fine; he’ll likely ask you about it tomorrow or give your tips to combat the bags that will surely be beneath your eyes.  To your surprise, however, an R pops up next to the message, followed closely by Asmo typing.  

“Then sleep with me, darling.”

That’s a dangerous double-meaning coming from the Avatar of Lust, but with your anxiety ramped up to an 11, you’re definitely not in the mood for that kind of distraction.  As you make your way out into the corridor and toward his room, you type out a clarification.  

“Just sleep, okay?  I had a nightmare.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take your mind off it.”

When Asmo opens his door, you give him a lop-sided grin.  “You perv.”

“On the contrary, darling, what I said was completely innocent.  Check the chat log.  If you took it wrong, well... then, I must be rubbing off on you.”  Asmo smirks, automatically looping an arm around your waist and pulling you close.  To his credit, he’s never groped you (without implicit permission), so you’ve always felt at complete ease with his physical affection.  

“You’ve definitely been a bad influence,” you joke, not that your mind wasn’t dirty before you came to the Devildom.  “But I’m really tired.  I wanna be able to sleep.”

“Of course.  But you’re so tense!  Here, lie down on the bed and let me loosen you up.”  There’s a dirty joke on both of your tongues, but you’re too drained to make it, and he’s trying to be on his best behavior.  You comply, however, plopping down face-first onto his luxurious bed, while he sits beside you and begins rubbing the tension from your shoulders.  Asmo knows what he’s doing when it comes to massages, and his bed has a heavy floral scent, likely from the lotions and perfumes he uses often.  It’s so relaxing.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks, surprisingly energized for this time of night.  It’s obvious that you woke him up, but strangely enough, he isn’t complaining about the interruption to his beauty sleep.

“Not really.”  You’re starting to feel guilty about keeping him up.  “Hey, I think I’m good on the massage.  Do you mind... cuddling?”

His hands still on your shoulder blades.  “You don’t have to ask me twice.  I always want to cuddle with you!”  Grinning excitedly, he climbs beneath the covers beside you, and wraps you up in his arms.  He’s so warm, and you feel so at ease, surrounded by his soothing scent.  You wind your arms around his slender frame, and he grins, pulling you in tighter, facing one another.  

“You’re such a cute human.  You sounded embarrassed to ask just then.”

Your face flushes.  “Shuddup.  I just want you to get your beauty sleep,” you mutter, which only causes him to hug you tighter.

“Aww, you were worried about me?  You’re so sweet!  I’m supposed to be the one comforting you, silly.”  His hand trails along your back, just barely beneath your shirt so you can feel his skin on yours.  He tucks your head beneath his chin, but you can tell from his voice that he’s still grinning broadly.  “Just relax and fall asleep with me.  You won’t have a nightmare as long as I’m holding you.”

Asmo rocks you gently, until your abashment fades and you feel yourself succumbing to sleep at last.

He’s right.  

You don’t have another nightmare that night.  

Levi

If there’s someone you know is going to be awake and gaming at 3AM, it’s definitely Levi.  You click on his name, and type out a quick text:  “I can’t sleep.  Do you wanna come to my room and binge something?”

He reads the text within seconds and starts typing, just as you anticipated.  

“Raiding.  Come to my room instead?”

Even if you can’t sleep, you want to.  You want the company, a distraction, some comfort.  You would go to his room -- you’ve pulled plenty of all-nighters there, but... that’s what they were.  All-nighters.  His bed is literally a bathtub, and the one time you decided to take a nap in it, your neck had a wicked cramp in it for days. 

“I’m tired, though.  I was hoping we could watch it in bed and maybe fall asleep halfway through?”

This time, he reads it and doesn’t reply right away.  You see the three dots start and stop, and you’re not sure if he’s at a pivotal point in the raid, or if he’s too flustered by your invitation to properly respond.  Levi’s stayed in your room plenty of times, but he’s usually camped out with pillows in the floor, and if you happen to drift off, he keeps telling you random trivia about the show and shaking your leg until you make a noise that you heard him.  You’ve never fallen asleep with him.  

Your D.D.D. finally chimes with a notification.

“Did you send this to the right person??”

“Yes, Levi.”

“Oh.  Then you meant you want me to stay until you fall asleep.  For a second, I thought you meant sleep with you in your bed lolol.

Okay, after the raid.”

You know it’s just Levi being Levi and assuming you don’t feel that way about him, but with all the nervous energy you still have over the nightmare, you can’t help but feel your eyes water.  As childish as it sounds, you just want him to hold you so you can feel like everything’s okay.  You know you need to spell it out, but you leave his message on Read and pull the covers up to your chin, closing your eyes.  

... It’s too restrictive.  You kick at the covers and pick up your phone again, but... you can’t bring yourself to send another text, begging him to hurry.  You can always go to his room; the invitation stands.  Instead, you waste your time weighing your options, becoming more anxious, and ultimately, getting up to pace around your room.  

 About fifteen minutes pass before you hear a knock at your door, but it feels as if it’s been an eternity.  “It’s open,” you say, loud enough for him to hear, and Levi steps inside with a box set tucked beneath his arm.  

“Okay, I brought I Accidentally Became a Magical Girl, but the Transformation Sequence Takes So Long that the Villains Keep Attacking Me Halfway Through, and I Keep Losing but at Least I Get a Rose for Trying.  It got really good reviews, and I know you said you wanted to see more comedy anime.”  He smiles with such sincerity that you can’t help but feel guilty over tearing up a little earlier.  Just being around him makes you feel more at ease.  

“Thanks Levi, that sounds great.  Pop it in, and let’s give it a go.”  You smile doesn’t quite meet your gaze, and even though he’s a shut-in, it doesn’t go unnoticed that you’re acting different.  He pauses, but then shakes it off and starts setting it up, while you sit down on your bed.  As the first episode starts, he sits down beside you on the edge of the bed, while you’re sitting with your back against your pillows.  He starts telling you trivia about the animation studio and apparently, how the manga is actually more ecchi than the anime.  “OHHH, but I didn’t mean that I brought an ecchi anime for us to watch!  I mean, it’s sure to have some fanservice, but... but that’s just to be expected, right?  I wasn’t trying to be -- to be an Asmo or anything, I just thought you’d like it because it’s, uh, it’s supposed to be funny, and I--”

You lean forward and rest your forehead against his shoulder, cutting off his flustered explanation.  “You know I don’t mind that, Levi,” you assure him, before reaching out and grasping his sleeve.  He’s tense; even though you can’t see his face, you know it’s bright red, and you can feel the weight of his stare.  “I’d love to watch it with you.  I just... Will you lie down with me while we watch it?”

“L-l-lie down with you?!  Just-- just like that?!  Is this a joke?  Is this some kind of weird normie--?”

He breaks off as you finally raise your head to meet his gaze.  Levi can tell something’s amiss; he isn’t oblivious, he just lacks self-confidence.  He softly says your name.  “Why can’t you sleep?”

“I had a nightmare.  About, well... what happened back then.  In the foyer.  When... Belphie, uh...”

“Oh.”  He slides an arm around you, pulling you closer against his shoulder.  You feel so weak admitting that, but Levi isn’t judgmental; he just offers you the comfort you so desperately wanted from him.  “I didn’t know.  I thought you were just awake because you drank too much coffee or were bored or something.  If... If it’ll make you feel better, ye-yeah, I... I’ll lie down with you.  If you really want me to!”

He’s still flustered, but he doesn’t think you’re joking anymore, so you smile and nod against his shoulder.  “I’d really like that, Levi.  Thank you.”

His face turns even brighter.  “Y-yeah, no problem!”  

Levi slides under the covers after you straighten them out, and you settle in beside him.  His back’s up against the pillows now, so you snuggle into his side until he lifts his arm and gingerly puts it around you.  Your cheek settles on his chest, and he audibly gulps, but doesn’t move.  

Halfway into the episode, he starts pointing out the manga differences again, and you both laugh along with the gags and tropes throughout the show.  Levi becomes more comfortable and trails his fingers along your back, and you throw one of your legs over his, cuddling closer.  He keeps talking, this eccentric, passionate part of his personality being something you absolutely love about him, and the low murmur of his voice lulls you into a peaceful sleep.  

[gukyi]

the courtship chronicles | ksj

summary: dating has never been anywhere near your list of priorities, but kim seokjin is nothing if not determined. and when he comes to the rescue and accompanies you to your friend’s wedding, he decides to request only one thing in return: for you to let him take you out on fake dates and shower you in fake affection, and show you how much fun dating can be. he just needs to remember to keep the part where he’s been in love with you under wraps.

{friends to lovers!au, fake dating!au}

pairing: kim seokjin x female reader genre: fluff, comedy, and emotional hurt/comfort! word count: 20k a/n: big, big, big thanks to @aurawatercolor for commissioning me for this piece!! i honestly am so happy with this fic and even happier to give my main man kim seokjin the love and attention he deserves!!! this fic is pretty much slow burn from start to finish, so enjoy!

check out the post-script drabble here!

“You’re bringing a plus one, right?” Cynthia demands on the other end of the line, voice frazzled and breaths quick. “You better, because I already factored it into the wedding budget. There will be food meant for a plus one for you which I already paid for so you better bring one. I paid for it already.” She’s running in circles, trying to make her point. It’s clear she’s got an awful lot on her plate as it is. 

“Can’t I just eat their serving myself? You know I’m a growing woman,” you plead. Cynthia and the rest of her bridesmaids have been on your back about bringing a plus one ever since she got engaged. 

“No, you have to bring a plus one. Even if it’s your mom, Y/N, I don’t care,” Cynthia says. She makes to say something else, but then pauses. “Actually, I do care. Can it please be a date? Even like, someone you met off of Hinge. I don’t know. Not your mom. Don’t bring her. That would be only a little weird,” she corrects herself. 

“Weirder than some stranger I met off Hinge?” You ask pointedly. 

“No. At least they’re around your age. I want to see you applying yourself, Y/N!” Cynthia scolds. “Go out there and find a man! Pick him up off of the street if you have to! Anything!” She rallies. “Being single is cool and everything but being in love is just as fulfilling!”

“Of course you would think that, you’re getting married tomorrow,” you tell her, sighing. Can’t she just accept that you aren’t really looking for a relationship right now? And haven’t been looking for one since you graduated college three years ago?

“I love my future husband, thank you very much. We plan on leading a very full and extraordinary life with our fifteen dogs and eighteen geckos.”

“Okay, Miss We Bought A Zoo,” you tease. 

Cynthia laughs. “Pretty soon it’ll be Mrs. We Bought A Zoo, thank you very much!”

You hear a knock on the door, turning to check the kitschy cuckoo clock you had found at a flea market for five dollars for the time. It’s six on the dot.

“I have to go, Cynthia, Seokjin’s here,” you tell her, already making to hang up the phone as you head towards the door, using your shoulder and ear to hold it in place. “We’re making a family dinner for two, tonight.”

“Bring Seokjin! He’ll charm the shit out of my mom, I just know it,” Cynthia tells you. “Bring him! Tell him to clear his fucking calendar for tomorrow.”

“Bye, Cynthia,” you say as you reach out for the doorknob, twisting it to reveal your grinning best friend with a bag full of goodies on the other side. “I have to go.”

“Send Seokjin my love! I don’t even expect a wedding gift from him! His presence is enough!” Cynthia shouts, loud enough for Seokjin to hear everything despite the phone not even being on speaker. You hang up before Cynthia can say anything else to goad Seokjin into accompanying you to her wedding, sending an apologetic smile his way. 

“Sorry, that was—”

“Cynthia?” Seokjin finishes with a grin. You usher him into your apartment, letting him place his bag on your kitchen countertop as he pulls out two wine glasses to get the party started. You sigh, helpless. “Yeah, I figured. She’s getting married tomorrow, isn’t she?”

“She’s uber stressed, if that’s what you mean to say,” you correct, joining him in your kitchen as you start to unpack what he brought, countless tupperware containers filled with vegetables, meats, pastas. There’s even an entire bag of rice. Does Seokjin really think you have no rice in your apartment? Seriously? 

“I can imagine,” Seokjin agrees with a laugh. “Thank god you and I aren’t getting married anytime soon, right?” With a flourish, he produces a bottle of red wine you had been saving in your fridge for this very occasion, filling up half of each wine glass. 

“I’ll toast to that,” you say, smiling as you hold up your glass. Seokjin swirls the wine around in his own before holding it out. 

“Here’s to not being romantically involved whatsoever!” Seokjin hurrahs, and you laugh at his honesty as your glasses clink together, the sound echoing around your kitchen. “Who says you need to be married to prepare a kickass meal together.”

“You’re in charge of the meat,” you immediately tell him. You’ve never been the biggest fan of handling it. Vegetables are much more your speed. They also don’t get angry at you when you make a mistake cooking them. Besides, Seokjin’s always been the better food mediator between the two of you. 

“Like always,” he teases, giving you a nudge as he pulls the pots and pans from the cupboard beneath the counter and hands you one of the seventeen different cutting boards you have in random places in your kitchen. You don’t know what it is about them, but every single month you find yourself buying a brand new cutting board. They may as well be drugs. “You should really branch out and try cooking beef sometimes. I’ll teach you, hey? So you don’t have to be scared of it.”

“I am not scared of cooking beef,” you tell him sternly, flinching when Seokjin places the meat in the oil-slick pan and it begins to sizzle and pop. 

“If you say so, Y/N,” Seokjin singsongs. “You know, I’d make a pretty good teacher. I reckon I could show you a thing or two about cooking.”

“Okay, Mr. Cooking Is My Passion,” you say, scrunching up your nose. “Just because I can’t make a damn filet mignon does not make me a bad cook,” you tell him, “whose soup do you ask for when you’re sick and in bed with a cold? That’s right, mine!” You poke his chest for good measure, making him put his hands up in surrender. 

“Alright, alright, I concede,” he says with a laugh. “Your soup is delicious.”

“Thank you,” you say, proudly. “How about I make a couple of servings while you cook the meat?”

Seokjin blows a kiss your way. “Y/N, You know just the way to my heart.”

An hour later, you and Seokjin have whipped up an impressive set of dishes, from your homemade vegetable soup to his traditional bulgogi bibimbap, a small bowl of kimchi in the middle of the table accompanied by some sauteed vegetables and a serving of glass noodles. There’s enough to feed a family of four (one of whom could be a ravenous high-school football player) on your table, and yet, you and Seokjin never fail to finish it all. 

Seokjin takes one bite out of his bulgogi bibimbap and moans in delight, tossing his head back as he holds out two thumbs up, chopsticks clanging onto the side of the bowl as he drops them. “Wow,” he says loudly, patting himself on the back. “I’m amazing. Gordon Ramsey wants what I have.”

“There’s no way it’s that good,” you tease, even though it most definitely is that good. Seokjin is, without a doubt, the best chef you have ever met, the best chef whose food you have ever had the pleasure of eating. If he weren’t employed by a publicity company he would almost certainly be the owner of the best restaurant in the city. The New York Times would visit his restaurant and write a five-star review to be published in the paper the next morning. You take a bite of it yourself, chewing it slowly and pretending to ponder its flavor. It’s delicious. It’s never not delicious. “Hmm… it’s alright.”

“‘Alright’?” Seokjin shouts, slandered. “Just ‘alright’?” He slams a fist onto the table in anger. “This is blasphemy! It’s amazing!” Grabbing the knife beside his plate, he holds it under your chin dramatically, glaring into your eyes. “You better retract that statement, or else!”

“Or else what, Mr. Kim?” You say, desperately resisting the urge not to burst into laughter. Seokjin’s not doing much better, lips pursed tight in an effort not to cackle aloud. 

“Or else I’ll have no choice but to eat all of your bulgogi bibimbap for you!” He cries, reaching over with grabby hands to take your plate away from you. 

Just as he suspected, you hold on tight to your plate, refusing to let such good food go into the mouth of someone who has his own plate. It’s then, as you’re playing tug-of-war with your food, that Seokjin finally breaks into chuckles, hiccuping out his laugh as he concedes and lets you eat your food in peace. 

“Just as I suspected, peasant!” He says proudly. “It’s delicious!”

You put a heaping chopstick-ful into your mouth. “It really is, Seokjin. You always do such a great job.”

“I’m honored,” he says, bowing slightly. “Food is what brings people together.” He holds out a piece of kimchi in front of your mouth, and you eat it obligingly. “Speaking of bringing people together, what was Cynthia shouting about on the phone?”

“Oh, just her wedding, you know,” you tell him with a shrug. “The usual. She’s desperate for me to bring a plus one,” you say. Marriage is disillusioning her. She thinks everybody around her should have a love like her own. And while it is a wonderful, fairytale-esque thought, you just aren’t really on the same wavelength. You never have been. “She even factored it into the budget to guilt-trip me into doing it.”

“Why don’t you?” Seokjin asks, downing a spoonful of soup. “Going to a wedding alone can’t be too much fun.”

“I won’t be alone,” you protest. “I’m one of her closest friends. I’ll know a bunch of people there.”

“Yeah, but you won’t have brought someone who, by way of how plus-one’s work, will be obligated to be by your side the entire night. Who are you gonna dance with when Crazy in Love comes on, huh?” Seokjin points out. 

You frown. “I can dance by myself.”

“Yeah, but a plus-one would make it more fun! You guys can dougie, or whatever it is the cool kids do these days. Is dabbing still a thing?” He dabs, just to make a point. It’s cringey and awful and hilarious, all at once. 

“Stop, stop, you’re embarrassing yourself and I’m the only other person here,” you plead. “You and Cynthia are so on my ass about bringing a date, God. I just—I’m not really interested in anybody right now. Dating just isn’t my thing.”

“Has dating ever been your thing, Y/N?” Seokjin asks, even though he clearly knows the answer already. “I don’t think you’ve been on a date since sophomore year of college. Do you even know what dating is, anymore? Love?”

You roll your eyes. If there’s one person who’s a bigger hopeless romantic than Cynthia, it’s Seokjin. The man has an entire bookshelf of romance novels in his bedroom. He waxes poetic about falling in love every other day, about coming home to a significant other, a family, to cook for, to spend time with. He’s been on more Bumble dates in the past year than you can count on both hands and feet. 

“I know what it is,” you defend yourself, “I’m just—I don’t really believe in that, for me. I don’t ever see myself having it. I have friends. My family. That’s good enough. I don’t need romantic love.”

Seokjin scoffs. “What? You mean to tell me you don’t ever want to fall in love? Never ever? Come on, Y/N. Love is great! It makes you feel warm and happy, like one of those giant Costco teddy bears. Those are the material equivalent of love. Haven’t you always wanted a giant Costco teddy bear?”

“When I was five, yeah,” you tell him. “Listen, Seokjin, I get it. Love is great and amazing, I’m just not that interested. You and Cynthia have been trying to get me to go on a date for years and it doesn’t appeal to me whatsoever.”

“What about dating is unappealing?” Seokjin inquires. He’s determined. And you, the best friend, are weak. 

“I don’t know, having to meet new people, talk about yourself, try to see a future with them. It seems so tiring,” you say, sighing. Seokjin looks positively bewildered, because of course he enjoys dating—he’s so charismatic, charming, and outgoing. Even if a date goes poorly he still ends up with a new friend. “I’m just not that into doing that stuff.”

“Psh,” Seokjin says casually, skeptical. “I bet that if you just gave the whole dating thing a try, you might actually like it. You haven’t gone out on one in so long—maybe it’s different than what you remember. The last time you did it, we were all just college students.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” you groan. “How exactly do you expect me to ‘give the whole dating thing a try’, then? Last time I checked, I wasn’t particularly interested in anybody.”

Seokjin pauses, pondering for a moment as he taps his chin with his pointer finger. Then, like a smack to the face, it hits him all at once, and in his excitement, he pounds his fist right onto the prongs of the fork by his plate. “Ow, holy shit!” He shouts, excited nonetheless.

“Oh my God, are you alright?” You ask, a little concerned and a lot amused.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he assures you, rubbing the side of his palm. “But what I was about to say, is why don’t we go out?”

You sputter, choking on the soup you had just taken a sip of. “I-I’m sorry, what?”

“Why don’t we date? It’ll be fun!” He says happily. 

“Seokjin, we’re friends,” you say. 

He shrugs, carefree. “Yeah, sure we are. But think about it: since we’re already so close, you won’t have to worry about introducing yourself to someone new. You won’t have to go through the whole tell me about yourself thing, we can just jump right into the dating part! It’ll be fun and you’ll get to see what dating is like past the introductions. How about it?” He asks. 

He thinks it’s brilliant. 

You think it’s ludicrous. 

“But, Seokjin, are we actually going to date? Like, be a couple? Because I don’t know if that’s what I was really aiming for with our friendship today,” you say hesitantly. You love Seokjin, sure, but you aren’t in love with Seokjin. You’ve been best friends since college. Won’t it be weird if you suddenly start dating? And doing other couple-y things?

Seokjin waves a hand around like a nonchalant businessman. “No, we won’t actually be boyfriend and girlfriend, or anything,” he promises. “It’ll just be fake. Make believe! Think of it as a dating test-run. What do you say?”

“You sound too enthusiastic for me not to be worried,” you tell him tentatively. He’s like an energetic salesman. It’s a little frightening. There must be some fine print you aren’t looking at. Something that you’re missing. “Are you sure about this? Like, do you want anything in return?”

“Anything in return to help my best friend find love?” He asks, scandalized. “Of course not!”

You frown. 

“Okay,” he gives in, “maybe some more soup. I’m about to visit my mom and she loves it.”

“Why don’t I just come with?” You suggest. Seokjin’s mom is the second-best chef you’ve ever met. Somewhere along the line, Seokjin took what he learned from her and improved it ten-fold. 

“Even better! Mom’s been begging me to bring you around sometime. How about it, do we have a deal?” He asks, holding his hand out. 

You sigh. He’s your best friend, and all he wants in return is for you to visit his mom with him. What’s the worst thing that could happen?

“Sure,” you say, conceding. “Why not?”

Seokjin’s first order of business as your self-appointed brand new not-real boyfriend, is to accompany you to Cynthia’s wedding as your plus-one. He does actually find a wedding gift on such short notice—a fairly new cookbook from which he had memorized the recipes already, so it was no longer of use to him. Because of course, Kim Seokjin is the only person on Earth who memorizes the one hundred recipes in a book just because he wants to. Where does he find the time?

[May 18th, 3:18PM]

Seokjin: Are we wearing matching colors? Seokjin: Or is that too senior prom?

You: As long as you don’t show up wearing white you should be fine

Seokjin: >_> Seokjin: You know that if I wore white the groom would drop everything and marry me instead ;-)

You: Only because of your charm You: I’m wearing pastel pink! I don’t suppose you have anything in your closet to go with that, do you?

[Seokjin is typing…]

[May 18th, 3:20PM]

Seokjin: Oh, Y/N, you don’t even need to ask twice

An hour later, Seokjin pulls up to the curb outside of your apartment complex in his Volkswagen, which is every bit as charismatic as he is, right as you’re scrambling to tug on your most comfortable heels (as if such a thing could exist!), running late, as per usual. The ceremony begins at 5:30 and you and Seokjin were meant to leave for the venue at four. 

It is 4:19. 

Frazzled, you rush around your apartment movie-montage style, tweaking strands of your hair in the mirror in the hallway and nabbing your bottomless bag on the coffee table. It’s not even really summer yet, but your apartment doesn’t have air conditioning and it’s becoming more and more of a curse as the globe slowly warms multiple degrees over the years. The true loser of climate change, rather than the polar bears, the bees, and coastal cities, is you, who thought renting a place with no air conditioning would be just fine. 

Desperate not to open the door to Seokjin with your forehead dripping, you dab off the beads of sweat gathered by your hairline with the skirt of your dress—whatever, you were going to sweat in it at some point—right as you hear the first knock. 

Seokjin’s fashion choices are usually rather conservative. He does work a somewhat menial half-office job, so he can’t roll up to his desk wearing the exceedingly stylish and exceedingly adventurous clothing that Namjoon and Taehyung wear, which, in turn, limits his closet. Lots of plain or argyle sweaters pulled over dress shirts with the collars peeking out, lots of navy jeans, lots of white sneakers and loafers. The only clothing item Seokjin does experiment with is socks, of which he has an impressive collection, ranging anywhere from corgi butts to Santa Claus. 

You didn’t really know what you were expecting when Seokjin said you didn’t need to ask twice after mentioning that you were wearing a pastel pink dress. He does own a couple of pink things, but as far as you’re aware (and you’re pretty aware, considering you’ve been best friends with him since the beginning of college), it amounts mostly to his sock stash and a couple of sweaters, which he most often wears under denim jackets or over dress shirts. 

What you most certainly aren’t expecting when you open the door is to see Seokjin standing on the other side in a full-on suit, a light grey color that complements the peach in his skin tone perfectly. More so, however, you hadn’t at all anticipated for him to be wearing a perfectly-matching pastel pink dress shirt underneath, complemented by a rather obnoxious bow tie with red hairs littered all over it. 

“Wow, okay,” you say, blinking just to make sure that your eyes are working perfectly. “It’s May, why do you look like Valentine’s Day threw up on you?”

Seokjin opens his mouth to send a witty response back to you, but the moment he lays his eyes on you, it’s as if all of the words have fallen from his lips. He swallows, hands fumbling with the bouquet in his hand. “Don’t say that to me like you aren’t also wearing the most Valentine’s Day dress I’ve ever seen.”

“It’s a pastel pink midi dress,” you tell him, frowning. “At least I’m not wearing something that has cartoon-y red hearts all over it,” you accuse, pointing to his bow tie. 

Seokjin gasps, offended. “Hey! This is my lucky bow tie. It’s never steered me wrong when it comes to love.”

You scoff. “I don’t think Cynthia and her fiancé need your bow tie’s help today. Have you ever seen someone more in love with another person than they are with each other?”

Seokjin pauses. He sighs a little bit, like there’s something weighing on his mind he refuses to divulge. You won’t press. You may be best friends, but you aren’t mind-readers, and sometimes, there are some secrets that have to be kept even from each other. Yours is that when you guys were juniors in college and Seokjin was running late for class because he was desperate to find the last Pop-Tart in his apartment, you had actually eaten it the night before when he was in the bathroom. 

You wonder what his is. 

“You never know,” he finally says, “we could always use the extra luck, don’t you think?”

You nod, “I suppose. What’s with the flowers? You know you aren’t supposed to bring them to a wedding. They probably have enough flowers as it is.”

As if caught off guard by the flowers held in his very own hand, Seokjin turns his gaze down to look at the bouquet, a collection of baby’s breath, tulips, and carnations. “Oh,” he says, speechless. “Well, I was dropping by the flower shop anyway to bother Hoseok, and he said that they had some leftover stock that nobody wanted because they were a little smaller than the other flowers, so he gave them to me at a discount. They’re for you, I guess.” Like a nervous high schooler going on his very first date, he shoves them towards you, making you step back to avoid getting punched in the chest. 

“Seriously? You didn’t have to do that, Seokjin,” you say happily, pleasantly surprised at the bouquet. Sure, some of them are a little wilted, a little dehydrated, but you get flowers so infrequently (in fact, you don’t think you’ve gotten any since Seokjin sent you one of those singular rose grams during your first Valentine’s Day at college), that the gesture is as good as gold. 

“Eh,” he says, shrugging casually. “I don’t really have anybody else I would want to give them to.”

Gleefully, you take them from his outstretched hand and immediately rush to put them in some sort of vase. You, like the piece of millennial trash that you are, end up using a random empty mason jar you find in one of your kitchen cabinets. 

“What time is it?” Seokjin asks, looking around for a clock. 

“Late, we have to go,” you instantly respond, shooing him out of the door and darting down the stairs because the elevator in your apartment building is about four hundred years old and doesn’t even have a light bulb inside of it. You cram into Seokjin’s tiny white Volkswagen, which just screams hipster-mom-in-her-forties, and he speeds off at a velocity that tiny Volkswagen beetles were not meant to go at. 

Surprisingly enough, you make it to the wedding venue with a few minutes to spare, which you largely attribute to the fact that Seokjin was driving faster than some of the SUVs on the highway on the way over. He isn’t a bad or reckless driver. He’s just a driver with certain priorities that rank higher than the act of driving itself. 

“Ah, the smell of nervousness and love,” Seokjin says as you step out of the car, inhaling dramatically. “Smells like a wedding.”

“Smells like the ceremony is about to begin,” you say, and you both rush over the pebbled path to the entrance, giggling like a bunch of high schoolers as you stumble through the front doors very ungracefully. 

“Wow,” Seokjin says, impressed at the extent of decoration. Cynthia had been raving on and on about how she was aiming to have a sort of romantic, Impressionist art painting vibe to the wedding, lots of pastels, flowers, twinkling lights. “This is very impressive. One hundred out of ten.”

“Cynthia’s been planning this for months, so I’m sure she’ll be pleased to hear it,” you say, ushering yourselves into the main wedding hall as the rest of the guests file in from chatting outside as the clock ticks down. There are two seats close to the front that Cynthia’s saved for you and your plus-one, which she most certainly will be very happy to see you have brought with you, in the form of your best friend, Seokjin, of course. 

“Aren’t you excited?” Seokjin whispers as everyone settles down. “Can’t you feel the love in the air?”

“It’s not in my genetics to feel that sort of thing,” you retort back, earning a pout from your best friend in return. 

“Well, it’s in mine, and let me tell you, Y/N, it feels like love!” He exclaims happily. “You should be basking in it.”

“Are you?” You round on him. No point in not practicing what you preach. 

“Always,” Seokjin says, gazing at you happily. He seems so content, in this very moment, about to watch a ceremony that will bond two people together for the rest of their lives, devote themselves to each other, wholly and completely. “I’m always basking in it.”

Then, the officiant steps up to the microphone at the front of the room. Seokjin reaches his hand over to grab yours, letting it rest in his palm on his lap, and the ceremony begins. 

Going to weddings as a child, even as an adult to a fairly distant coworker, they’ve always felt so detached from you as a guest. Sure, the ceremonies are wonderful and you’re happy for the newly-married couple, but it’s almost as if you’re watching a movie and instead of being another character, you’re part of the audience. When you leave the wedding venue, when all of the dancing and eating and celebrating is over, you forget all about it, and you move on with your life. 

But knowing the two people standing up at the altar as more than just coworkers, or a distant relative, knowing them as friends, as near family, tints everything in a rosy pink. It’s the most beautiful wedding ceremony you’ve ever had the pleasure of attending. It’s humbling and real and unrehearsed, romantic and funny and meaningful all at once. It makes you feel warm inside, truly, truly happy for your friend and for what is to come in the next chapter of her life. 

Crying was pretty much unavoidable. It was mostly on Seokjin’s end—he’s not as close with either of them as you are, but he certainly loves love much more than you do—but some tears were shed on your end, as well. This is the sort of thing you’d want to talk about for years to come, even after you walk out, in the hopes that a constant reminder will prevent it from ever fading from your memory. 

As weddings go, the next part is the best part: free food. You get to your tables and Cynthia’s fancy (and expensive) caterers come whooshing around with bottles of wine and pitchers of water, filling up the glasses on your tables as the wedding party prepares to enter. You’re seated next to some other old friends from college, ones you recognize and ones you don’t, and ones that Seokjin is very happy to start chatting up the moment you take your seats. 

“Are you here together?” One of the men—you think his name is Nathan(?)—asks, pointing to the two of you. 

“No,” you say. 

“Yes,” Seokjin says. 

You both turn to glare at each other as Nathan—no, maybe Noah—furrows his brows, clearly having not received the response he was aiming for. Seokjin makes a bunch of aggressive and dramatic facial gestures to remind you that you two are fucking dating, remember? Even though it’s not actually real, and that was the part you were focusing on. The not real part. 

“We are,” you correct awkwardly, even though Whatshisface seems to have moved on from the topic. “He’s my plus-one.”

“I’m not as tight with the bride as I am with one of her closest friends,” Seokjin says jokingly, even though you’re the only one who laughs. 

“Yeah,” one of the girls chimes in. “You guys were best friends in college.”

“Still are,” you say, grinning. At least you don’t have to lie about that. 

“So cute,” the same girl says romantically. “I wish I could fall in love with my best friend,” she turns to the man she’s with who clearly doesn’t want to be here whatsoever. “You guys must be so happy.”

“It’s not always a walk in the park,” Seokjin warns, and you don’t have time to smack him in the chest and ask him what the hell he means by that, as the officiant taps onto the microphone to begin to announce the entrance of the wedding party. 

As each couple, each bridesmaid and groomsman, walk through the door, you can’t help but wonder why Seokjin said it wasn’t always a walk in the park to be together. Are you that awful to fake date? 

“Can I have everyone’s attention, please?” Cynthia’s father asks, tapping his teaspoon against the wine glass in his hand. “I’d just like to make a toast.” He turns to where Cynthia and her fiancé are seated, and he looks on the verge of tears. “For as long as I’ve lived, I’ve never seen two people love each other so selflessly. When they’re together, they make grey skies turn blue, turn night into day. All I can wish for you both is that you will forever be each other’s best friend, each other’s rock. There is no greater joy in life than to get to spend the entirety of it with your best friend. Congratulations, Cynthia and James. We are so lucky to know you both.”

Everybody begins to clap. 

Everybody, except Seokjin. 

You notice that his hands are resting in his lap, and when you turn to look at him, you see his eyes welling up, his smile soft and wistful. 

“You alright?” You ask quietly, giving him a nudge with your shoulder. 

Seokjin looks back at you like you’ve caught him off guard. “Me? Yeah.”

“You’re crying,” you point out. 

He shrugs, blinking to let the tears roll down his cheeks. “I just love that,” he explains. “Love knowing that some of us can be so lucky to spend the rest of our lives with our best friends by our sides.”

 According to the ancient law of weddings, the reception is where all guests are mandated to get out of their seats and boogie-oogie-oogie. At least, that’s what Seokjin says, when the food gets whisked away and the space morphs into a dance floor, tables in the center cleared as the bride goes to change in her mandated second dress, because one just isn’t expensive enough as it is. Seokjin just seems to know everything about weddings. It’s almost as if he’s planned one himself. 

“Just wait until all of the stuffy, traditional dances are over,” Seokjin whispers into your ear as Cynthia and her father share a dance. Seokjin looks like he’s about to jump out of his seat, desperate to get onto the dance floor. “You’ve never seen me dance at a wedding.”

“I’ve never seen you dance at all,” you correct, excluding all of the dabbing he did in 2016 when it was still a cool thing to dab. 

“Then you’re in for a real treat,” he says smugly. 

Sure enough, the moment the rest of the guests are invited onto the dance floor to drop it low, Seokjin is the first one out of his chair, and you, the second, begrudgingly dragged to the center by your over-enthusiastic best friend. He’s always been absolutely shameless in everything he does, which makes for high confidence and low embarrassment, two things you are certainly not the strongest in. Which is exactly why you end up side-stepping awkwardly like a geek at senior prom, while he uses every single one of his limbs to express his passion for whatever generic pop song is blasting through the speakers. 

Cynthia’s never been one for niche, hipster music.

“Come on, Y/N, have a little fun!” Seokjin encourages, grabbing onto your wrist and rapidly waving it up and down, making you shake. 

“You can have enough fun for the both of us,” you tell him, still just as aware of everybody else’s opinion of you as you were in high school. Some things really never change. 

“Impossible! Come on!” He says, and you have no idea what dance move he’s about to break into from his positioning, and then you suppose you’ll never know, because the song immediately switches to an acoustic one by Ed Sheeran, which is the most generic type of slow song you could possibly think of. 

“Grab your boys and girls, everyone,” the DJ says, a random white guy who definitely would prefer to make mixtapes in his basement than do this shit. “This one’s for love!”

You don’t even have time to take another step before Seokjin is grabbing your hand with his own and pulling you in close to him. He holds your one hand out and places his other on your waist, and instinctively, you rest your hand on his shoulder. 

When you went to senior prom in high school, your date was this terribly nervous friend of a friend, who asked you because you both didn’t have a real date to go with, and you figured it would be better to go with an acquaintance than nobody at all. And it was sort of fun, because you sat at a table with all of your friends and ate decent senior prom food, and it wasn’t in your stinky high school gymnasium but a fairly nice country club. But when the only slow song of the night came on, thus ensued the most awkward three minutes of your entire high school career. 

This is by no means an exact science, but you figure that the people you are closest to are the people you can slow dance with without it being terrible and awkward and awful. You did it with your parents when you were a little girl in the living room of your family home. You did it with Cynthia at two in the morning one night when she had just gotten dumped by this absolutely rotten boy. 

And now, you’re doing it with Seokjin. And it isn’t terrible or awkward or awful at all. You sway to the soft strums of the guitar and it feels just right. The feeling of his hand in yours, on your waist, of yours on his shoulder. There’s less than a six inches of distance and you feel as close as you have always been. Seokjin feels so natural. He always has, and you know that he always will. There’s no doubt when it comes to him, no regret. 

“Isn’t this nice?” Seokjin asks, grinning at you. 

“Only because it’s with you,” you say back with a smile. Seokjin beams. 

Later, when the slow dance is over and you make your way back to your table so you can watch your best friend make a fool of himself from a distance. Cynthia drops by, blissful. 

“I knew you’d bring Seokjin! He’s charming the pants off of my mom as we speak,” Cynthia says happily. You both crane your neck to see him teaching Cynthia’s mom the floss, outdated as per usual. 

“Yeah, I mean,” you say with a shrug, “who else was I going to bring?”

“He makes you happy, doesn’t he?” Cynthia asks. She looks proud. She deserves it. 

You turn back to look at Seokjin, on the verge of tears of laughter as Cynthia’s mom successfully flosses for the first time. He’s so wonderful. The light of your damn life. “Yeah. He does.”

When the fair comes to town, you don’t find out from posters stapled to utility posts and taped to traffic lights. Nor do you find out from word of mouth, from the two strangers in your favorite (slightly overpriced) coffee shop ahead of you in line. It’s not even your coworkers who mention it to you in passing one day because their eight-year-old has been begging them to go but they can’t because they have a dentist appointment.

It is, because who else would it be, of course, Seokjin, who texts you at 4:18PM on that Saturday and says:

[May 27th, 4:18PM]

Seokjin: I’m on my way over to your apartment to pick you up Seokjin: Don’t ask questions

And it is, in every possible way, the scariest thing you have ever received on your phone. Seokjin’s always been one for spontaneity, but ever since the two of you graduated and stopped feeling the urge to go out to McDonald’s at three in the morning, random activities have become less of a rule and more of an exception. But it’s a Saturday, which means you don’t have to go to work, and it’s near-evening, which means you’ve been sitting at home doing absolutely nothing all day as it is. And it’s May, which means that the sun only sets at seven at night and there is so much to be done in this wonderful weather. 

So, Seokjin’s on his way. 

You spend the next seven minutes (Seokjin lives approximately eight minutes by car from where you live, not that you’re counting, or anything) changing out of the yoga pants you’ve been wearing since you returned from work Friday evening and trying to make yourself look as presentable as possible. You don’t know where he’s taking you. He could be bringing you to an alley to murder you for your inheritance. He’s definitely on your will, that’s for sure. You want to look nice. 

Seven minutes later, you see his tiny white Volkswagen pull up outside your apartment complex as you’re slipping on some sandals. He hops out of the driver’s seat and scurries into the lobby, which signals to you that he is a man on a mission, and you are simply the best friend who gets roped along for the ride. He knocks on your door thirty seconds after that, and you linger for a few moments so as not to seem like you’ve been anxiously awaiting his arrival. 

“Let’s go,” Seokjin declares in lieu of a hello. He reaches out to grab onto your wrist, pulling you out of the door as you frantically make sure you have your bag with you, otherwise you’ll be phone-less, key-less, and lip-balm-less. Three equally terrible fates. 

“What? Now? No explanation, nothing?”

“I parked in the no parking fire lane with my blinkers on, which means we have to go right now. We also have to go because I am very excited about where we are going,” Seokjin elaborates, though it does nothing to clarify the situation at hand. Other than the fact that if you don’t get into his car right now, he’s got a ticket to pay. 

“But where are we going?” You ask again, as Seokjin and you scramble down the stairs to make it to his Volkswagen before the security guard in the lobby starts shouting at him for his illegal parking job. 

“The fair!” Seokjin says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Did you see it was in town?”

“No,” you say dumbly. 

“Oh,” Seokjin says awkwardly. “Well, it is, and I feel like we haven’t seen each other in a while—”

“It’s been three days.”

“—and we haven’t gone out on a real date yet, you and me.” Seokjin explains as you get to his car. Luckily, there is no angry security guard nor a ticket underneath his windshield wiper, so you slide into the passenger seat and he drives off. 

“Yes, we have,” you object. “Cynthia’s wedding counts as a real date.” He was literally your plus-one. What more could define the word ‘date’?

Seokjin scrunches his nose up in clear disagreement. “No, it doesn’t,” he argues back. “Cynthia was going to tear your arm off if you didn’t bring me with. That was a date out of obligation.”

“Aren’t all of these dates out of obligation?”

You expect some sort of witty response, but instead, you’re met with silence as Seokjin opens the driver’s side door, the two of you looking over the top of his Volkswagen wordlessly, each waiting for something. 

What? It’s not like you’re wrong. Seokjin is taking you out on dates to get a feel for what a real, blossoming relationship is like. Except this isn’t real, and your relationship is far from blossoming. It’s bloomed, already. Into an irreplaceable friendship. 

“Yeah, well,” Seokjin sputters, for once in his life, speechless. “It doesn’t matter,” he says, sitting roughly in the driver’s seat as you get into the passenger side, watch as he fumbles to put the keys into the ignition. “Don’t you want to know what a first date is supposed to be like?”

“You don’t have to take me on a fake first date just to spend time with me,” you tell him, the two of you facing forward, staring at the road in front of you as he drives. The radio is playing, some generic alternative rock song that neither of you are familiar enough to warrant turning up the volume for. Seokjin’s always preferred listening to the radio over his own music. Something about ambience while he drives. “We can spend time together wherever. Even if we’re just in my apartment.”

Seokjin’s wonderful and the best and one of the (if not the) greatest people you’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing, but he doesn’t need to do all of this for you. It’s enough for him to text you in the morning to remind you to drink a glass of water before you eat anything to wake your body up. Enough for him to leave leftovers from your dinner nights in your fridge, so you can savor the taste of his food after he’s gone home. Enough for the two of you to be as you used to be, as you always have been and always will be. 

Seokjin scoffs, honking at a driver who sped through a red light. “Those aren’t dates, Y/N,” he explains like it’s the most obvious thing in the entire world. “They’re just ways that we spend time with each other.”

“So then what makes this a date? What’s the difference?” You demand. Seokjin’s not making any sense. Sure, you aren’t nearly as well-versed in the dating scene as he is, certainly haven’t been on as many as he has, but from your limited knowledge, you’d always thought that what makes a date is not the setting, not the time or location, but the person you spend it with. 

Arguably, that would mean that all of the nights and days you’ve spent with Seokjin could, by that definition, be dates, but that’s obviously not the case. You’ve always just been friends. 

“It’s a date because I say it is,” Seokjin declares. “You wanna know what makes a date? It’s when the two people—or more, depending on how you swing—decide that it is a date. It’s just a label.”

“If it’s just a label, then why are you making such a big deal out of it?” You ask. You know you’re being a bit annoying with all of the questions at this point, but who’s to say you couldn’t have spent the evening curled up in your apartment and called that a date as well? 

“Because,” Seokjin begins, sighing. His hands are gripping the steering wheel so hard, his knuckles are turning white. “Because,” he repeats, “if someone really wants to impress you, then they will make a big deal out of it. Because you deserve it.”

Eventually, Seokjin pulls into the giant open field designated for parked cars, and expertly squeezes into this tiny space between two absolutely massive SUVs, likely once filled with five children and two very, very tired parents. Sure, you both only have about six inches of space to shimmy out of his car, but it was a good parking job nonetheless. 

“Get you a boyfriend who can park as well as I can,” Seokjin says, patting himself on the back as you head towards the entrance. 

“Why would I need a boyfriend when I have you?” You tease back.

You wait for a cheeky response from Seokjin, turning to look at him when he delivers the blow, but it never arrives. Instead, Seokjin reaches a hand down to grab onto yours, and you walk hand in hand towards the entrance, wordless. He pays, which makes you angry, but he tells you that you can buy a funnel cake for you to share to make up for it, and that’s good enough. 

In movies and books, a fair is a very high-school event for people to attend. Lots of bright flashes of color, loud noises, and junk food, which are three things that society believes deters anyone over the age of nineteen from attending. You can’t name a single piece of pop culture that features two fully-grown adults eating cotton candy and sitting in a ferris wheel carriage. Because the moment you turn twenty, your back starts to permanently ache and noises louder than the sound of your refrigerator making ice give you a headache, of course. 

Seokjin, of course, has never been one to let the media define him. 

He lights up like New Year’s Eve the moment you walk through the gates. Like a child on Christmas day. 

There’s a difference between being immature and being youthful that people often fail to realize, confusing the two, or worse, thinking they’re the same thing. But there are sixteen-year-olds out there who are more mature than middle-aged adults, and there are middle-aged adults who still act like they’re going through puberty. Seokjin was immature when you first met him, the same way all college freshmen are, but over the years lost that mindset while still never parting with the youthful part of himself, the part filled with childlike wonder, with innocence and hopefulness. It has always been part of him. 

When Seokjin looks at the world, he sees it bathed in light, in color. He sees people in their most wonderful form. Sees every day, every moment, as something worth remembering. Sees the future as something worth looking forward to. 

You’ve always envied that about him. Perhaps it’s just in your nature, but you’ve always been jaded, a little cynical. 

A realist and a dreamer. 

And they always say that opposites don’t really attract. 

Here at the fair, Seokjin is more than prepared and willing to have enough fun for the both of you, even as you pull up to one of those impossible-to-win water-squirter games. He’s already pulling out his wallet to hand a couple of bills to the angsty-looking teenager behind the booth. 

“You know that these are totally rigged, right?” You ask, chuckling to yourself as Seokjin rubs his hands together with a wide-eyed excitement. 

“Just because they’re rigged doesn’t mean winning is impossible,” Seojin says confidently, taking a seat and gearing up to begin. You stand to the side, arms crossed, waiting to be sufficiently unimpressed. “What are you doing standing there? I paid for both of us.”

Before you know it, Seokjin is pulling you down into the seat next to him as the teen counts down, giving you a very monotonous three seconds before the bell rings and you have to aim weakly-pressurized water into the mouth of a faded plastic clown. 

You’ve never had the best hand-eye coordination. On multiple occasions, Seokjin has tossed you a fruit, a bag of rice, something non-dangerous and relatively large, and on multiple occasions, you fumble to grab it and it eventually ends up on your kitchen floor. It takes you about half of the minute you’re given to blow up the balloon to get your aim straight, and by then, Seokjin’s balloon could eat yours for lunch. 

“Pick up the pace, Y/N!” Seokjin teases, relishing in his lead. This is embarrassing, and you’re better than this. And yet.

“It’s working against me and you know it!” You defend yourself. Because their unfairness is the reason Seokjin’s about to win and you’re about to lose. 

“How can you say that when I’m doing so well?” Seokjin laughs, and his balloon pops the moment that the sixty-second countdown ends, an underwhelming blare of celebratory music playing through the speakers at the corners of the tent. 

A sad little “Better luck next time!” echoes from the clown in front of you, and you slam your water gun on the table as Seokjin gloats in your face, the teenager coming over to hand Seokjin his prize, looking dead on his feet. 

“What should I get, hmm?” Seokjin asks. 

The selection is pretty weak. A lot of Frozen merchandise, two-dollar stuffed Olafs and capes with Anna and Elsa’s faces on the back. A couple of nondescript stuffed animals, from glittery lizards to pastel teddy bears. What looks like a generic-brand Whoopee cushion. 

“You don’t want a stuffed Olaf?” You ask innocently. The design is a little off, so it looks like Olaf is staring into your soul, Mona Lisa-style. 

“Hmm,” Seokjin says, pretending to think about it. The poor kid looks like he’s about to faint from boredom, desperate for two fully-grown adults to stop acting like they don’t know what prize to pick from an amusement park booth. “How about the pink teddy bear?”

Very on-brand for him. The teen hands it to Seokjin and the two of you go on your merry way, Seokjin demanding the two of you go to stuff your faces with funnel cake before rounding out the night on the ferris wheel. 

“For you,” Seokjin says, holding the teddy bear out to you as the two of you stand in the surprisingly-long line for funnel cake. 

“Me?” You ask, eyebrows raised in disbelief as your fingers curl around the fluffy fabric. It’s softer than you thought it would be. 

“Yeah,” Seokjin says, certain. “To remind you of me.”

You grin, holding the bear close to you. Sure, it’s a little bit kindergarten, like the cute boy on the playground placing a quick kiss on your lips before the teacher calls everybody in after recess ends, but the gesture is more than enough. To know that Seokjin won something, even something as plain and inexpensive as a prize from a fair, and his first and only thought was to give it to you, well, that makes you happy. “I don’t need a bear to be reminded of you,” you muse. Not when there are pieces of your friendship lingering everywhere you walk, from your apartment to your old university to your mind. 

“Can’t hurt to know you’re always thinking about me,” Seokjin says, and it’s not greasy or smug or weird. It’s honest.

You laugh. “When am I not?”

Funnel cake starts with a black t-shirt and the two of you arguing over who’s going to foot the ten dollar bill, much to your dismay. Even though Seokjin had explicitly said that you could pay, since he covered your entrance ticket, he still makes a big deal about doing it himself in front of the poor funnel cake girl, who definitely doesn’t get paid nearly enough to watch two grown adults fight over a ten dollar funnel cake. Eventually, you get your way and successfully hand the girl a ten dollar bill and she hands you a paper plate piled high with funnel cake as you begin to search for an open place to sit. 

“Just because I said that you could pay for the funnel cake doesn’t mean I actually meant it,” Seokjin says with a frown as you scope out a place to sit. At evening’s peak, it’s nearly impossible, which leads the both of you to a curb next to a recycling bin piled high with plastic cups, stained with Coca Cola and Fanta, knees up to your chin as you crouch over a single plate of funnel cake.

“Isn’t this cozy,” Seokjin says with a grin as a burly middle-aged dad steps on Seokjin’s clean white sneakers to throw something away. 

“We’ve been in more cramped quarters before,” you say. One of the many instances that immediately comes to mind is when the two of you were trapped in a closet in a frat house for nearly two hours because two people on the other side were having sex, the entire time. It was a good bonding experience. The two of you got very acquainted with each other’s scents. 

Seokjin’s hasn’t changed. Still sweet, sugary and vanilla from all of the baking he does, and a little bit like raindrops.

You wonder if Seokjin thinks the same about yours. 

“You know I don’t mind where we are and what we’re doing when I’m with you,” Seokjin says, and it sounds like a line straight out of a Hallmark movie, cheesy and cliche and rehearsed. But it’s none of those things. Seokjin says it and it’s real. And it’s the sort of thing that makes you wonder if you’re ever as true with him as he is with you. 

“Even when we’re sitting on the ground and eating funnel cake next to a recycling bin in a fair filled with messy children and their deadbeat parents?” You ask. 

Seokjin nods, taking an enormous bite of funnel cake. “Yes, even then.”

“True love,” you muse. Very few people would you do this for. Seokjin is one of them. 

Seokjin coughs at the words, his whole body shaking, and the powdered sugar from the piece in his hands goes flying, like a tiny little blizzard, falling onto his skin, his shirt, his lips, and everywhere in between. Snowflakes. 

Funnel cake ends with Seokjin trying to wipe the white dust on the front of his pitch black t-shirt away with a napkin, and only smearing it further into the fabric, cotton turning sticky from the sugar. It looks like a cocaine bust gone wrong. It looks only slightly not-kid-friendly. 

“Am I addicted to cocaine or did I just spill powdered sugar on myself?” Seokjin jokes, much to the horror of a family passing by, the mom giving you and Seokjin an alarmed expression as she picks up the pace. “It was powdered sugar!” Seokjin calls after them, making the two of you laugh. “Or it was cocaine. Whatever you want to believe.”

“You’re too soft to do cocaine,” you tell Seokjin, a very strange sort of compliment. 

“Maybe powdered sugar, though,” Seokjin says with a laugh as you heave yourselves off of the curb, tossing out the paper plate and dusting off your hands, flakes of powdered sugar falling to the ground. “Ferris wheel?”

“Anything you want,” you tell him, letting him lead you towards the ride, lit up like a Christmas tree. 

It’s as if every possible holiday threw up on the damn thing, a jumble of rainbow flights flashing erratically as a generic carnival tune plays in the background, sluggishly moving on its axis. It couldn’t have been built before this century. 

You squeeze into the carriage, clearly built to fit a child and their father at most, let alone two adults who both don’t have a regular exercise schedule. In order to fit, you have to stretch a leg over Seokjin’s lap and lean so that part of your shoulder is against his chest. It’s… cozy. It’s most definitely not the most cramped either of you have ever felt. 

“This is the part where I pretend to yawn and then stretch my arm over you,” Seokjin says matter-of-factly, as if that particular action is a mandatory part of the date.

“Oh, is that proper first-date etiquette?” You tease. 

“Only for me,” Seokjin says, cheeky, and it’s the greasiest thing you’ve ever had the misfortune of hearing. Even so, you let him fake yawn, melodramatic and totally contrived, feel as his arm comes to rest on your shoulder, hand swinging down over your side. Instinctively, you reach up to grab it with your arm, letting the two of you sit like this as the ferris wheel creaks, slowly moving you upwards. “Aren’t you having the best first date ever?”

“It’s the only one I can remember,” you admit, especially since it’s still in progress. 

“That means it’s the best.” Seokjin grins. 

“And the worst,” you add on, making Seokjin laugh. 

Finally, finally, finally, you reach the top, overlooking the entire fair, lit up in the night in a warm pink and yellow haze. At this hour, only the teenagers are left, families having gone home for the night, and you can hear the cheers even from up here, hear the laughter and jokes and chatter. it’s a sort of ambience you’ve never had the pleasure of listening to before. One of an active night, filled with people, and you, far away enough to be out of the action but close enough to enjoy it nonetheless. 

“Isn’t this nice, Y/N?” Seokjin asks, the two of you looking out into the distance, wishing you could stay like this forever. “When we’re up here, it feels like I can forget about everything and just think about now.” If only you could stay like this forever.

“And what are you thinking about, right now?” You ask, head resting on his shoulders. 

Instinctively, his arm moves from your shoulder to your waist, tugging you into his side, letting you rest your legs on top of his own. Seokjin’s never needed to be more honest than he already is. He says what he means, and he means what he says.

It’s always been so easy when it comes to him. 

He lets out a breath, and you can feel his chest rising beneath your hand on his torso, feel the subtle beat of his heart beneath your fingers. 

Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

He rests his head atop yours. “You,” he says.

Seokjin, a man of his word, holds up his end of the deal like he does everything else: honestly and fully. Little has really changed about your relationship dynamic—he still sends you good morning texts and reminds you that you need to drink your eight glasses of water (which you never do, and he consistently does because he’s an organized man with perfect skin). Still randomly comes to your apartment with two brown bags filled with groceries to last you the next two weeks. Still makes time for you.

But now, it’s all being done under the guise of courtship. Of what it’s like to have someone romantically interested in you. 

Of course, Seokjin’s not actually romantically interested in you, but he does a damn good job of pretending to be. For the sake of this whole thing. Seokjin still has one objective in mind: get you to believe in love again, and that all of these things he’s been doing, from taking you to the fair to dancing with you at Cynthia’s wedding, are means to accomplish an end. 

(The stuff in between, the texts, the calls, the visits, those are just part of your routine.)

It feels completely normal and totally unnatural, all at once. Like a new kind of relationship neither of you have really ever delved in before, toeing the line between friendship and this other feeling, one without a name. Seokjin will do something that you and he have always done, long before any of this was in motion, like ordering Indian takeout to your place unprompted, and then he will say that that’s what people are supposed to do when they’re courting someone. As if he is the end-all be-all of chivalry. 

Truth be told, you can’t wait for this to end, for things to go back to the way they were. You never did set an official fake breakup date (if that’s what it’s even called), but you suppose that that means that you can just call it off whenever you’d like. You don’t feel as though anything he’s doing is working. He treats you just the same. What is there to fall in love with, other than familiarity?

But Seokjin’s diligence makes you diligent, too, which is why you’re standing in your kitchen, outnumbered by vegetables (ten to one, which means they could definitely kill you if given the chance—and opposable thumbs), a gigantic pot on your creaky gas stove, boiling soup swirling inside. Even though your kitchen is nowhere near the level of organized and systematic as the Chopped set, it certainly smells like it. Your cooking can hardly compare to Seokjin’s (you roughly chopped vegetables and put them in broth, he makes kimbap for fun), but, like all other aspects of your life, he rubs off on you, one way or another. 

Seokjin seems to think that this transference of his personality will apply to how he feels about love, too. But time can only work so much magic, and ever since freshman year of college, for the seven years you’ve known him, it’s always been like this. 

You let the soup simmer on your stove as you begin to pack up the food scattered on your counter, unsure when next you’re going to use it, especially since your daily meals usually consist of leftovers and, if you’re feeling exotic, stir-fry. It’s then that you hear the knock on your door, and you don’t even need to think before you’re scurrying over to pull it open, revealing Seokjin leaning over to peek happily into your peephole.  

“Look who it is, for a change,” you say sarcastically.

“You mean your favorite human being in the entire world who is about to take you to see his mom and enjoy a nice home-cooked mom meal?” Seokjin corrects obnoxiously, making you laugh as you let him inside. 

“You blackmailed me into this,” you remind him, pointing an accusing metal soup ladle his way. “You convinced me that you’re doing me a favor by treating me like someone you’d want to court, and tricked me into making an enormous pot of soup for your mother!” A lose-lose situation. 

“I am doing you a favor,” Seokjin defends. “Don’t you love having a doting, attractive young professional taking you out to fairs and ordering you take-out? This is what the beginning of a relationship is supposed to look like.” Emphasis on supposed to. “Also, I accompanied you to Cynthia’s wedding after she had been talking your ear off trying to get you to bring a plus-one, so…”

A dirty, dirty play. 

“Fine, you win,” you concede. You did really appreciate him coming, especially so last minute. “I better hear nothing but pure, unadulterated praise coming from your lips when you eat my soup, or else.”

“I would have showered compliments on your soup even if you hadn’t sent me a thinly-veiled threat,” Seokjin says proudly. “What kind of a best friend would I be if I didn’t?”

Perhaps one that confused you a little less. 

You spend the entire car ride to Seokjin’s mom’s house (who lives forty-minutes out of the city) listening to him ramble on about how desperately his mother wants him to get married, settle down and have kids or a dog or two. The two of you still have half of your twenties to go, but the moment he graduated, Seokjin got a steady job and a nice apartment in the city, which immediately equates to marriage material. 

At least, that’s what his mom thinks. 

But those aren’t the sort of things that make Seokjin marriage material. You’ve known him for years. Ever since he first spoke to you, it was immediately obvious he was always the sort of perfect, dreamboat husband material that teenage girls fawn over, that characters in anime fantasize about. 

At the most basic level, Seokjin is goddamn attractive, and even if you’ve seen him in nothing but tighty-whities as a nervous eighteen-year-old, seen him with tomato sauce in his hair, seen him sick with a cold and strep throat, you can’t deny him that. He’d got the sort of looks that make people on the street take photos of him, thinking he’s a celebrity. 

But not only is Seokjin undoubtedly gorgeous, he’s an entire package. He’s an excellent cook, capable of impressing any and all parents, hilarious, charming and charismatic. Professional but never dull. He does his part in group projects, studies for his exams, listens to the music recommendations you give him even if they aren’t his style. The girls he dated in college knew exactly what they were doing when they went out with him. They were attempting to secure their future. It’s a shame none of them stuck, not like you, Elmer’s glue on his skin. 

Seokjin’s mom, the lovely woman she is, is under the impression that Seokjin became husband material when he graduated, got a job and moved to the city. But you know better than anyone—Seokjin’s always been husband material. Now, he’s just old enough that he knows he could be looking for himself. 

When you pull into Seokjin’s mom’s driveway, a little suburban home with a freshly-mowed font lawn and flowers by the mailbox, she’s already opening the front door and scurrying out, still wearing her slippers. 

“Eomma!” Seokjin says happily, getting out of the driver’s seat as she bounds towards him, the two of them wearing the same smiles on their faces. Like mother, like son. “It’s been a while.”

“Too long!” She chides, smacking him slightly. “You have to come and visit me more often. I don’t live that far away from you.”

“I’m busy, Ma,” Seokjin says with a roll of his eyes. “I have a job.”

“A job and no wife!” She exclaims, though her attitude immediately changes the moment you exit the car, pot of soup still warm in your hands. “Y/N!” 

She rushes over to give you a hug as well, albeit a much more careful one. She looks positively thrilled to see you. Seokjin’s mom has always liked you, even when you were an insufferable eighteen-year-old. They would invite you over for their Chuseok celebrations every year, and sometimes to their New Year’s Eve parties, if you were in the area over winter break. 

“No wife yet, Eomma,” Seokjin says. 

“You look so pretty, Y/N,” Seokjin’s mother tells you. She takes the pot from your hands wordlessly, refusing to listen to your protests as she shoos you both inside. 

The house smells of a home-cooked meal, savory and salty and sweet all at once, and you can see several dishes already laid out on the table. It’s both a familiar sight and scent, something you all too frequently experience whenever you barge into Seokjin’s apartment around mealtime. Seokjin immediately joins his mother in the kitchen, scrambling around to help her finish cooking, as you wait awkwardly by the table, easily the most inexperienced of the three of you. 

“Is this your soup?” His mother asks. 

“Yes, I thought to make some to bring tonight,” you say with a smile. Seokjin’s mother beams. 

“Delicious! Seokjinie always tells me how much he loves having it when he’s sick. You take care of him very well,” his mother grins. She places it on the stove, turning on the heat to warm it up. 

“Only because he does the same for me,” you say, sending a grin Seokjin’s way, one he returns instantly. 

The rest of the meal preparation (which doesn’t take long, especially with an extra pair of equally-gifted hands) goes by like this, Seokjin’s mother heaping compliments onto you as you stand there, helpless, watching as the two add the final dishes to the dining table. Seokjin dodges every question about his lack of engagement, always deflecting and shifting the topic to something you’ve done. Maybe this is why he wanted you around…

Finally, when dinner is ready, the three of you sit down, eager to pick up your chopsticks and dive in. 

“Seokjin’s father is away on business,” his mother explains after you note the empty place setting. “He sends his love!”

“I knew I was missing the dad jokes,” Seokjin says with a shake of his head. “Luckily, I can make up for them with my own.”

Seokjin’s mother laughs. “You must get a lot of this, don’t you?” She shoves an extra serving of fish onto your plate, letting it plop on top of the kimchi she had previously spooned onto the dish. “Eat, eat. I made it for you.”

“Oh, thank you,” you say with a smile. You’ll probably walk out of this house with a food baby the size of Jupiter. You always do. “And yes, but it’s nice. I like spending time with him.”

“Oh, thank God,” Seokjin says dramatically, a hand to his chest. “I was worried about that, for a second.”

“You two have always been inseparable,” his mother comments. “Don’t tell me this is why you haven’t married yet, Seokjin-ah.”

“What do you mean, Ma?” He asks over a mouthful of naengmyeon. “You know that I’m waiting to get married.”

Seokjin’s mother scoffs, shocked. “What? But Y/N’s right here! You two make an excellent couple.”

“Eomma!” Seokjin admonishes, even a little taken aback himself. You had no idea this was the secret plan his mother’s been plotting, all this time. It seems both you and him were just operating under the assumption that she was doing what all mothers do when their children are adults—dreaming out loud for grandchildren. 

“I’m sorry, did I misread something? You two are a couple, aren’t you?” His mother asks, positively bewildered. No wonder she’s been grilling Seokjin so hard about getting married. She had thought he was halfway there, already. 

You open your mouth to correct her, but your mind gets the best of you. Isn’t this what Seokjin wants? For people to think you’re a couple? For the true dating experience—are they, aren’t they? 

“No, Eomma,” Seokjin says, interrupting your thoughts. You turn to him, brows furrowed in confusion. “We’re just friends.”

Nobody mentions marriage, dating, or love for the rest of the meal. 

You excuse yourself to the bathroom once everyone is finished, Seokjin’s mother shooing you away from the kitchen sink, refusing to let you partake in any sort of clean up as the honorary guest. You’re glad to get away, the tension palpable and thick, looming over your heads, a reminder to all three of you that friends is all you have been, and friends is all you will ever be. Strangely enough, Seokjin had seemed the most disappointed out of all of you, even more so than his mother, whose dreams of grandchildren were crushed before her eyes. 

You wonder why. 

If Seokjin had been so adamant about the two of you calling yourselves a couple at the wedding, then why did he backtrack here? Was it his mother? Was it you? What could have made him change his mind?

As you walk back to the kitchen, you can hear the two of them having a conversation, hushed voices so as not to alert you. You take a step back from the entryway, hiding behind the wall to eavesdrop. 

“You must see the way she looks at you, Seokjin-ah,” his mother says. 

“No, Ma, that doesn’t mean anything,” Seokjin says, voice cold. 

“Yes it does, my boy,” she says. “Can’t you see it? The way she cares for you.”

“That’s just how it’s always been.”

“Seokjin-ah, please. You’re being stubborn.”

“Eomma, believe me, I know better than anyone else that we’re only ever going to be friends.”

“You don’t see it, then?” His mother’s voice is sad, helpless. “The way she loves you.”

You hear Seokjin suck in a breath, a deep, heavy inhale, weighed down by his thoughts. At that moment, you decide to round the corner, pretending like you haven’t hear a thing. 

“Y/N!” Seokjin’s mother exclaims happily. “Your soup was delicious. You’ll have to come over more often so I can keep having it.”

“I’ll have Seokjin send home a thermos with it,” you joke, lightening the tension you can still feel lingering in the air. 

“Ah, you’re too kind!” She says, sending you a warm smile. Seokjin hasn’t turned around from where he’s facing the sink, yellow rubber gloves up to his elbows as he scrubs the dishes clean. “Seokjin-ah, you must remember to bring Y/N more often. I love seeing her.”

“Yes, Eomma,” Seokjin says dutifully. When he finishes, he packs up the leftovers his mother is sending him home with, placing tupperware after tupperware into a plain brown bag. “Y/N, ready to go?”

“Yes, it’s getting late,” you say, the words stiff on your tongue. Seokjin seems closed off, bottled up. There’s something he’s not saying, and you can feel it weighing on his tongue. “it was lovely to see you again.”

“Of course!” Seokjin’s mother grins. “You must visit me again soon. I’ll be waiting!”

“Bye, Eomma,” Seokjin says as you head to the front door, pulling on your shoes as he opens the door. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Remember what I said, alright, Seokjin-ah?” His mother says, pulling him in for a hug. “You mustn't ignore what’s right in front of you.” You can’t help but wonder if maybe, you had overheard something you weren’t supposed to. 

In the car, you ask, “What was your mom talking about? When we were saying goodbye?”

Seokjin shrugs, nonchalant and calm. It’s so plain that it’s uncharacteristic of him. “Oh, nothing.” You hate not knowing what really lingers in his thoughts, rests deep in the pit of his heart. You want nothing more than to reach over and promise him that, no matter what, you’ll always be by his side. “She just wants me to look out for myself.”

Even on this clear night, the moon and stars visible above your heads, your mind (and heart) couldn’t be foggier. 

In your freshman year of college, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2 had just been released on DVD, digital, and Blu-ray. Seokjin, the eighteen-year-old genius he was, had brought a projector to school that year, and so, one chilly November weekend, you and him set up in an empty lounge with a perfectly white wall and watched (spoiler alert) Voldemort get Avada Kedavra-ed at one in the morning. 

Ever since, monthly movie nights have been ingrained into your routine, even when Seokjin was in London for a semester in your junior year and you used a shady website so you could stream Netflix movies together. You think, that semester, you watched every Certified Rotten movie on Netflix possible, relishing in being able to joke about how terrible the films you were watching with your best friend. You almost thought you would break your tradition, just because of how difficult it was to organize. 

But still, you persisted. 

Of course, now, in the age of platform subscriptions and renting on YouTube, it’s a lot easier. Seokjin has a subscription to every movie-streaming platform under the sun, which means that by default, so do you. One of the many perks of having Seokjin as your best friend. 

As two mostly-functioning adults in the real world, this is how your movie nights typically go: you will alternate apartments as the designated living room of the weekend, the host is in charge of arranging a pre-show dinner, and the guest is in charge of bringing a bottle of wine as a gift. You eat dinner, drink wine, and watch a movie together, either on the couch, or, in emergencies, in bed. The host always chooses. Three years out of college and running, neither of you have been able to come up with a system more foolproof than this. 

Tonight, it is Seokjin’s turn to host, which you always prefer because he cooks dinner on his own instead of giving up and ordering takeout like you always do, and because his couch and bed are much more comfortable than your own. Not that you frequent his bed. Because you don’t. You just know that from your limited experience, it’s much more comfortable than your own bed. It’s probably his mattress. 

When you arrive at his apartment, his door is already cracked open, resting on the door frame as you can hear him whistling a tune you don’t recognize. Almost like he’s been expecting you, or something. 

“If you leave your door open like this, you’re gonna get robbed,” you announce, forgoing a hello as you barge inside, the apartment smelling of smokiness. “Whoa, what the hell are you cooking? Lava?”

“I accidentally set off the fire alarm,” Seokjin explains, back turned towards you as he bends down to pull something out of the oven. “That’s why the door’s open.”

“Oh, not because you were expecting a guest?” You tease, placing the bottle of wine on the counter as you join him in the kitchen. 

Seokjin turns around to reveal a baking dish with four chicken legs, drenched in a sauce that smells of spice and flavor, charred on the skin. Gourmet restaurants couldn’t even compare. 

“No,” he jokes. “I was gonna eat all of this food and drink this wine by myself.”

“Hey, that is my wine!” You shout, making grabby hands towards the neck of the bottle. Seokjin raises a single eyebrow, unimpressed, as he dishes up the food, two chicken legs a piece on some luxurious paper plates. “Fine, I guess we can share.”

“You know you can’t resist me,” Seokjin tells you, and you hate it, because it’s true. 

 As you finish up, washing the pots and pans as Seokjin puts away the various bottles of seasoning on his counter, some of which you can’t even name, he asks, “Couch or bed?”

You turn, scandalized, swatting him with a fork lathered with soap, “So forward!”

Seokjin rolls his eyes. “Ugh, you know what I mean. You know I don’t mind where we watch our movie.”

(So long as he’s with you.)

You give the two options not another second worth of thought. You’re in the mood to lounge around on Seokjin’s terribly comfortable mattress tonight. You’ve had a rough past week at work, and sometimes, if you complain enough, Seokjin will massage your shoulders as you watch the movie. 

“Hmm… bed, please!” You say like a child, wrapping up the dishwashing as Seokjin grabs his laptop from the coffee table by the couch. You skip into his bedroom, giddy and only the tiniest bit wine-drunk, Seokjin following like the heavyweight best friend he is. 

Seokjin’s bedroom space has always felt so familiar to you. Plants along the windowsill, shelves with photos of his family, an enormous full-length mirror for gratuitous outfit-of-the-day pictures. Even in college, it felt this warm, this cozy. When you knocked on the wooden door of his dormitory at midnight to go out and get McDonald’s, coming back and gorging out on your McNuggets, it felt like this. 

People always say that your bedroom should be your little sanctuary, a home within a house. But instead of your own bedroom giving you that comfort, it’s Seokjin’s. Here, more so than anywhere else, you feel safe. Warm. Loved. There’s something magical to it. 

“What are we watching?” You ask happily, jumping onto his bed and grabbing the nearest plushie to hold onto. Seokjin plugs his laptop charger into the nearest outlet and sets it up on a couple of pillows for optimal viewing pleasure, the two of you leaning against a mountain of pillows as he pulls up Netflix. 

“To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before, have you heard of it?” Seokjin asks, clicking play on the movie. 

You furrow your brows as you curl into him, letting your head rest on his chest. “Really? I thought you were gonna pick something cool, like Interstellar, or something. Not something my fifteen-year-old cousin loves.”

“First of all, your fifteen-year-old cousin has great taste,” Seokjin tells you, offended. “Secondly, just because this is a teenage romantic comedy doesn’t mean it’s any less cool than Matthew McConaughey in a spacesuit, okay?”

You’re still skeptical. The New York Times gave To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before a pretty decent review, but you have long outgrown your teenage coming-of-age romantic-comedy movie phase, even if you still quote Clueless regularly. As you’ve gotten older, your movie nights have transitioned away from young adult books turned into movies and more towards films that people like Lupita Nyong’o star in, movies with sad endings on purpose. So this is very out of character, especially for a movie junkie like Seokjin, who sends you weekly movie reviews of the latest indie divorce drama.

You snuggle in closer, accepting defeat. It is Seokjin’s turn to choose, after all. And you suppose, that after a long week of unforgiving work, you could use this time to unwind, mindlessly watch a movie geared towards high-schoolers instead of analyzing some unknown French historical drama. “Alright then,” you tell him. “I trust you.”

Famous last words. 

You always have a habit of putting your trust into your best friend at the absolute worst times. Example One: In junior year, when he swore that the new salad place on campus was delicious until you got food poisoning from their chicken. Example Two: The summer after you graduated, when he promised you that roller skating was “easy” and “fun”. Example Three: Two months ago, when he blackmailed you into letting him take you out on dates after promising to go with you to Cynthia’s wedding. 

Example Four: Right now, as you’re snuggled up together like two birds of a feather, watching two sixteen-year-olds agree to fake date for personal gain. And even though they’re high schoolers, and even though he’s going through with it to get back at an ex-girlfriend and she’s trying to recover from her disastrously-mailed love letters, it feels too similar to be something that Seokjin just happened to stumble upon. 

You turn to look up at Seokjin, the movie a distant hum in the background, hardly at the forefront of your mind, but he doesn’t spare you a second glance. Instead, he pulls you in closer, wrapping an arm around your torso as his fingers dance across your own, mindless. He doesn’t have a damn thing to say, a rarity in your relationship, letting the movie do the talking. 

I think it’s funny, the boy says as the two main characters sit in this absolutely ancient diner, you say that you’re scared of commitment and relationships, but you don’t seem to be afraid to be with me. 

Well, there’s no reason to be, the girl responds casually. Unbothered. 

Why’s that? He asks. 

She shrugs, nonchalant. Because we’re just pretending. 

You feel Seokjin’s grip tighten, feel his skin pressing against your own, the exposed part of your stomach where your shirt has ridden up. It’s almost like he’s afraid to lose you. The mere sensation, one you have felt hundreds, if not thousands of times before, sends shivers down your spine. 

“You cold?” He asks softly, pulling up the blanket that’s crumpled up by your feet, placing it gently over your bodies. 

You couldn’t care less about the movie playing in front of you. Not when Seokjin’s this close, not when he’s got his arms wrapped around you, not as you feel his soft breaths against your forehead, as he tucks you underneath a blanket. You’re frozen still next to him. You think that even your heart has stopped. 

Dozens of movie nights, but never one like this. Dozens of cuddle sessions, dozens of nights in. But this one feels brand new. 

Seokjin adjusts himself, turning in towards you. You can’t even feel yourself breathing. 

When did this start happening? You ask yourself. Why do your palms feel clammy? Why does his touch leave little embers along your skin? 

Traitorously, your mind responds, a question to a question. 

Hasn’t it always been like this?

Tuesdays have always been your least favorite day, because they’re Monday’s shitty cousin. They’re far enough into the week to have you not complain about it being the beginning of the week, but they’re too soon into the week to warrant any excitement about it ending. At least, when you wake up to go to work on a Monday, you know it’s a Monday. When you wake up to go to work on a Tuesday, you think it’s a Wednesday. Tuesday is the day of the week that wears a mask and tries to make you think it’s something else. 

After the printer jamming, salad dressing getting spilled on your pants, and your coworker losing his cool in the break room and breaking a cabinet door off of its hinges, you think that, when you get called into your boss’s office in the middle of the afternoon, there could be nothing worse for him to tell you. 

Instead, you walk out of his office with a brand new job title and a salary increase to match, positively ecstatic as you bounce all the way to your desk, whipping out your phone to text, well, who else?

[June 16, 2:43PM]

You: I GOT IT!!!

Seokjin: OMG SERIOUSLY?? Seokjin: CONGRATS YOU DESERVE IT !!!!

You: thank u jinie 8) now i can buy us more expensive wine for our movie nights

Seokjin: :D Seokjin: I’m so proud of you, you’re amazing!

And it’s the sort of text exchange that makes your heart soar, even more so than the promotion itself, because there is truly nothing more fulfilling than sharing your accomplishments with the people closest to you. 

You pack up later than usual that day, sitting at your desk for a little bit longer as you wrap up some emails and reorganize the space, determined to make it suitable for someone who just got a kick-ass raise. You’re leaning underneath your desk to gather your belongings, plopping your phone charger and a couple of nice blue pens into your bag, when you feel a sudden tap on your shoulder, scaring the absolute bejeezus out of you.

“Ow!” You shout as you bang the back of your head on the underside of your desk. Angry and in pain, you turn to face the asshole that’s just given you a bump on your scalp for the next week, only to find your expression lightening the moment you lay eyes on Seokjin, fresh from work with a bouquet of flowers in his hand. Shocked and pleasantly surprised, you say, “Oh.”

“Don’t sound so excited to see me,” Seokjin jokes, rolling his eyes as he reaches a hand out to help you up. “You alright? I didn’t mean to scare you like that.”

Rubbing the nape of your neck, you shake your head. “No, no, I’m alright. You just caught me by surprise. What’s all this?” You ask as Seokjin reaches his hand towards you, the flowery scent permeating the air around you. The bouquet in his hand is a collection of various pastel-colored flowers, baby’s breath and lilies, carnations and hydrangeas. 

“A congratulations,” Seokjin says in lieu of any other sort of explanation. “You deserve it.”

“You make it sound like I’m pregnant,” you tell him, grabbing your bag as you double-check your desk, making sure you haven’t left anything behind. 

“Oh my God, are you?” Seokjin asks, eyes wide. 

You laugh, shaking your head as you accept the flowers graciously, immediately holding them up to your nose. “No, I’m not, Seokjin. You’d be the first to know. But this is so sweet of you, you didn’t have to come to my work like this.”

“Well, how else am I supposed to pick you up for dinner?” 

Stopping in your tracks, you knit your brows together in confusion. “Dinner?”

“The reservation is at 5:45 so we’re already cutting it close,” Seokjin informs you, offering no explanation. “Come on. I had to pull a few strings to get this, so over my dead body will we arrive late.”

Seokjin reaches down to take your hand in his own, giving you no time to ask any more questions as he tugs you out of your office and into his little white Volkswagen, the scent of the flowers filling the air in between the two of you. 

When Seokjin somehow manages to get a parking spot a block away from the restaurant in question, your mouth practically drops open. 

It’s a cozy Lebanese place, complete with more plants you could ever dream of owning, and an outdoor patio decorated with warm fairy lights, lanterns hanging from strings above your head. It’s been ranked one of the best restaurants in the city for years now, and it is practically impossible to get a table (that is, unless you book a year in advance). 

“Seriously?” You ask, in awe, as Seokjin leads you towards the restaurant, the flowers resting safely on the passenger seat. 

“Of course,” Seokjin says like it’s nothing. “You deserve it.”

You aren’t a moment too late, the hostess happily seating the both of you at a corner table on the outside patio, the evening breeze sending flutters through your napkins as she hands you your menus and the wine list. 

“How did you swing this?” You ask, blown away as Seokjin grins. 

“Well, you know my friend, Yoongi?” He asks. You remember him, having met him a couple of times at Seokjin’s few-and-far-between house gatherings. He’s a dainty man with colorful hair who’s got the biggest alcohol tolerance you’ve ever seen. “He’s a food critic, so I had him do me a favor…”

“You didn’t have to do all of that for me,” you say. Seokjin probably owes Yoongi his first-born child, now. 

“But I wanted to,” Seokjin says firmly. “What kind of a best friend would I be if I didn’t celebrate something like this with you?”

Seokjin must know, after all of these years, that you aren’t one to make a big deal out of things. That you vastly prefer staying inside, curled up with a good book or an even better best friend, over going out and getting wasted, over eating at a too-expensive restaurant with portions the size of your fingernail, because that’s who you are. And still, he insists, because that’s who he is. Someone who thinks that everybody deserves a little celebration in their lives, a little love from the people closest to them. 

“You’d be my best friend no matter what,” you tell him, because it’s true. Because Seokjin has always been and will always be that person: the one you’ll never second-guess. “Even if you had gone home after work and passed out on your couch, you’d still be my most favorite person.”

Seokjin grins. “I’m your favorite person?”

“Well, other than Yoongi,” you tease. “After all, he did get us this reservation.”

“Can’t believe that I’m second best to a friend you’ve met like, twice,” Seokjin says, mock-offended. “How am I supposed to compete with that?”

“You’ll find a way,” you muse. He always does. It’s incredible—ever since you met Seokjin, you don’t think anyone’s ever quite stacked up to him. Nobody has ever compared. 

“I’m really proud of you, Y/N,” Seokjin says, the two of you clinking your wine glasses together to celebrate your promotion, celebrate the night, celebrate being together. “You deserved that position more than anybody else.”

“You don’t even know half of my coworkers,” you joke. 

“But I know you,” Seokjin reminds you. “And I know that you’re the most hardworking, determined, focused person I’ve ever met. When you want something, you get it.”

“What?” You ask, a hand reaching out over the table to caress his own, thumb rubbing against the back of his hand. “You’re like that, too. You’re honest and real and certain.” They’re traits you’ve always admired about him, things that you wish you could be but know that you’ll never compare to him. 

“No,” Seokjin says, with a shake of his head. “I’m really not. I wish, though.”

Seokjin’s the truest person you know. What secret could he be keeping? Why hasn’t he told you? Doesn’t he know that you’d care for him, stay by his side no matter what? Not a damn thing in the world could ever make you leave him. 

Your waiter comes around to take your order, and you and Seokjin order a variety of appetizers that you fully intend on sharing with each other. You’ve never really been able to keep to your own plates. There is something so genuinely wonderful about sharing. Afterwards, Seokjin launches into this hilarious story about some old college friends that he had recently heard back from, ones that you’d met once or twice during university but never cemented a real friendship with, unlike Seokjin. 

Quite honestly, you couldn’t care less for them or what they’re doing, but Seokjin is so animated, so vivacious and excited to be telling you about them, that his words are music to your ears. Nothing makes you quite as happy as Seokjin when he smiles, when he laughs, when he’s fucking effervescent. His joy brings you joy, and you suppose that that’s really what it means to care for someone. To love them. When even something as simple as being in their presence makes your heart feel lighter. 

In the evening light, illuminated by the warm flame of the lanterns littering the sky above you, the fairy lights along the fence that encloses the patio, the house lights from the building next door, Seokjin glows. The way his body bounces as he speaks makes it look like a yellow halo surrounds him, his gold jewelry glinting when it catches the light, shimmering. He looks straight out of a movie, straight off of a red carpet, warm brown eyes and an honest smile to match, charismatic and golden and real. 

The craziest part is that he’s always looked like this. Always outshined everybody, no matter his surroundings. Every day, you wonder how on Earth you could have gotten so lucky to have been able to meet him. How blessed you are to be his best friend. How fortunate you are to love him. 

When your meal arrives, the two of you take a break from laughing aloud in this ambient, cozy restaurant, likely bothering all of the people within a twenty-feet radius of your table, and dig in, only emitting the occasional groan of pleasure. It’s no wonder this restaurant has been ranked the best in the city for years on end. Every bite explodes on your tongue, decorates your taste buds. You won’t be surprised if, next time you go over, Seokjin’s recreating every dish you have tonight. He’s always had a knack for it, anyway. 

“You know,” he says over a mouthful of zucchini, “you’re my favorite person, too.”

Normally you’d say something cheesy and dramatic, something along the lines of a sarcastic I’m touched or even a self-deprecating At least I’m number one at something, but instead, you smile softly to yourself. You always knew you and Seokjin were entwined with each other, but it makes your heart flutter to hear him say it for himself. 

“I know,” you murmur. “I’ll never forget that.”

“I don’t know, I just—” Seokjin begins, pausing. It’s not the sort of stop where he’s trying to figure out what words to say. He already knows. He’s just waiting to see if they’re the right ones. “You know, it’s always been you, Y/N. A lot of my life has always been uncertain, but you—you’re the only thing I’m always sure of.”

Afterwards, Seokjin walks you to the door of your apartment, the two of you lingering in the doorway, him refusing to leave and you refusing to say goodbye. 

“Don’t forget these,” Seokjin says, handing you the brown paper bag filled with your leftovers, various to-go boxes filled with treats. 

“What? I thought you wanted them,” you say, eyes wide. “Don’t you want them as reference for a recipe?”

“No, it’s alright,” Seokjin tells you with a shake of his head. “I’ll remember.” 

“Are you sure?” You ask. Seokjin nods, certain. He’s got a steely expression to him, one filled with determination. There’s something he’s not saying, and you’re almost positive it’ll come out tonight. Maybe he knows that you ate that Pop-Tart in junior year. Maybe he’s about to get his revenge. To protect yourself, you smile, telling him, “I had a really nice time tonight, Seokjin. You didn’t have to do all of this for me.”

“I wanted to,” Seokjin repeats. He need offer no other explanation. “Any excuse to spend time with you, I’ll take.”

You laugh. “I suppose that that’s what this whole pretend-dating thing is about, right?” 

Seokjin’s face goes blank.

“What?”

“Well,” you say, shrugging as you reach out to grab his hand. “Dinner tonight, isn’t that the sort of thing you’d do on a date? That’s why you took me out to celebrate instead of just bringing over some wine and takeout. I have to admit, you’re pretty good at this whole dating thing. Must be why you offered, right?”

“Y/N, I—”

“All of those romantic things you said, us playing footsie underneath the table, getting the reservation from Yoongi, I mean. You’ve always loved pulling out all of the stops. You’re giving me such unrealistic expectations for dating, you know?” You chide, grinning as you toy with Seokjin’s fingers amongst your own. Looking up at him, he looks frozen solid, gazing at you with an unreadable expression. “Hey, is everything alright?” Your hand trails up to his shoulder, forcing him to meet your eyes with his own. 

They’re swirling in ink. 

And then, he leans down, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you in, and presses his lips against your own. Shocked, you gasp into his mouth, feel the heat of his lips on yours as he kisses you, fervent and desperate, like he’s got something to prove. You feel your heart race, dropping the brown paper bag by your side on your hardwood floor as he presses in closer, insistent. It’s as if your entire body shuts down at his touch, at the feeling of him against you, on you, surrounding you. 

Eventually, your mind comes to, flickering back to life after being entirely short-circuited, and you pull out of his grasp, pushing him away with your palms against his chest, gasping for air. 

“Seokjin, what the—”

“I’ve wanted to do that since I met you,” Seokjin tells you, and no longer does what he say sound like a line straight out of the Dating 101 Handbook. It sounds honest, and what once was something you treasured about him has morphed into fear, into words you dread coming from in between his lips. 

“No, that’s not—”

“What do you mean?” He asks, insistent. He takes a step towards you, and it makes you take a bigger step back. Being far away from him makes you ache, but being close to him is absolutely unbearable. It’s impossible to know which one your heart would prefer. “That’s how I feel. That’s how I’ve always felt.”

“I can’t—I need—” You stumble over your words, backing up into your living room, hand reaching out to the doorknob. You don’t know what you can’t do. You don’t know what you need. All you know is that your heart hasn’t stopped racing the moment his lips met yours, and that you aren’t sure what will happen if Seokjin stands outside your apartment any longer. “I just—”

“I know,” Seokjin says with a nod. His face is beet red and he looks just as breathless, sending your way a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I know that you don’t feel the same. But I just—I wanted you to know.”

“I don’t know what I feel,” you whisper to yourself, eyes boring holes into your shoes. “How could I?”

“Y/N,” Seokjin says, reaching a hand out. “I’m sorry—”

“No,” you interrupt. “Don’t apologize. Just—please, just go. Please.”

Seokjin doesn’t protest. Not as you shoo him away, not as you begin to close the door in front of him. 

The door is nearly shut, barely inches away from the door frame, when you hear him call your name. “Y/N,” he says. If you were any more heartless, you’d shut the door, let the last thing you hear from him be your own name. But you aren’t, and not once have you ever closed the door on Seokjin. Not now. Not ever. 

“Yes?” You whisper, terrified of what he might say but too desperate to avoid it altogether. 

You hear him hiccup. You don’t want to see him cry. 

“You’re my best friend.”

(Kim Seokjin prides himself for being a man of few mistakes. He has good time-management skills, triple checks his entire apartment every time he leaves, and only illegally parks in the fire lane when he knows he won’t get a ticket. He’s got great foresight, makes educated decisions, and generally feels as though everything he does will benefit somebody, in the long run. 

You always tell him that you envy how put-together his life is, how picture perfect it seems—stable job, nice apartment, meals prepped and ready to go in his fridge. And even if you aren’t nearly as obsessed with falling in love as he is (and he’s willing to admit that, at least), you tell him that it’s admirable that he has all of this time to go on dates with women he’s met off of Bumble or through a friend of a friend, making an effort to go out into the world and do something with his love life. 

The truth is, Seokjin has been on more dates in the past year than to work events in the evenings and on weekends, but he’s never seen the same person twice. Sometimes, he ends up with a phone number punched into his contacts and a promise to meet again as friends, but most of the time they pat him on the back after it’s over and tell him that they hope he’ll get over his ex soon. 

Seokjin hasn’t had a real ex, a real breakup, since sophomore year of college, when his long-distance girlfriend from high school told him she couldn’t bear to listen to him how much he loves his new best friend any longer. 

It doesn’t take a genius to guess who that best friend is. 

Seokjin’s always been sort of foolish, a little too forward at the best of times and terribly obvious at the worst of times. Always holding out hope that maybe one day you’ll pick up on all of his slip-ups, and he’ll stop acting like a bumbling idiot around you. 

Admittedly, he had gotten pretty fed-up by the time he invited you to dinner to celebrate your promotion. He rolled up to your office in a silk button down and a bouquet of the nicest flowers Hoseok could find, brought you to a restaurant you had been dying to go to ever since you moved to the city, and told you that you were the one constant in his life. And he thought that maybe, just maybe, you would realize. And he wouldn’t have to do everything by himself. 

It’s a wonder that you hadn’t figured it out. 

At least, not until you said goodbye to him, standing underneath the wooden door frame to your apartment, and he leaned down and kissed you. 

Seokjin is a man of few mistakes, but he’s almost positive that that one was the most costly. He had been psyching himself up in his head the entire ride home, telling himself I can do it, I’m gonna tell her, what’s the worst you could do? 

As it turns out, the worst you could do is reject him. 

Seokjin knows you don’t feel the same way. He doesn’t need to go on any dates, doesn’t need to read any more novels or watch any more movies to know that. Maybe you had known all along, you just never knew how to let him down easy. Maybe you were just hoping that if you never acknowledged it, it would go away, age like fine wine, bottled up for an eternity. 

But when he was standing in the flower shop, lingering behind the counter as Hoseok insisted he knew the perfect bouquet to make, there was a little spark in his heart that thought, maybe. Just maybe. 

“Think she’ll like it?” Seokjin had asked hesitantly, fingers curling around one of the petals of the lilies in the bouquet as Hoseok rang him up. 

“What do mean, of course she will!” Hoseok says. He has long been witness to Seokjin’s fruitless efforts to get you to see how he feels. “She’d be a fool not to realize.”

Seokjin’s never been sure if you were the fool, or if he has been, all along. 

“I don’t know, Hoseok,” he had said with a sigh, handing over his credit card. “I feel like telling her might be the wrong move.”

“Why? From what it sounds like, you two are really close,” Hoseok had asked innocently. He even shimmied in a tulip, squeezing it into the middle of the bouquet with nimble fingers. “Are you afraid she’ll say no?”

“I’m afraid I’ll ruin everything,” Seokjin had told him. He’d rather keep you close as a best friend than lose you entirely in the hopes of confessing. That has always been his priority. It always will be. 

Hoseok had laughed, disbelieving. Seokjin had bitterly assumed that he’s never been in love with a best friend. It sucks hard, but Seokjin was in no position to ruin Hoseok’s day by telling him that. “You won’t ruin everything, Jin. You’re a wonderful guy with a great personality. I think it’s worth telling her, you know?” Seokjin did not know. “Like, if you don’t, you’ll never know what could have been.”

And perhaps that was the reason that he leaned down to press his lips against yours. On the off chance, the miniscule possibility that you might feel the same way. His mother had been absolutely insistent that you were in love with him, and while he trusts his mother’s instincts, Seokjin’s known you much longer and much closer than she ever will. And you were never in love with him. Friends is all you have ever known with him. It’s all that the two of you will ever be. 

You’re lucky, Seokjin thinks as he sulks around in his apartment, having decided to give your relationship some space after he completely annihilated it the Tuesday prior. Unrequited love isn’t something he’d wish on his worst enemy. It’s a ray of sunshine surrounded by clouds. It’s the constant reminder that even though what you already have will never be enough, losing it entirely is a fate much worse. 

On the bright side, at least you still tag him in Facebook memes.

Seokjin gets a phone call from an unknown number that Saturday evening, as he cooks a meal for one and pretends that his apartment doesn’t feel bone-crushingly empty without you to fill up the space. He lets the phone ring all the way through the first time—he’s not in the mood to bait those scammy telemarketers tonight, and gets back to cooking. And then his phone rings a second time, same number, and suddenly Seokjin feels as though it might be something urgent. What if it’s a coworker whose number he doesn’t have? Oh God, what if it’s his boss?

“Hello?” Seokjin asks, picking up the call and holding his phone between his ear and his shoulder. 

“Seokjin?”

It’s Cynthia.

“Cynthia?” Seokjin asks, just to make sure he’s not wrong. “How did you get my number?”

“I looked you up on the White Pages,” Cynthia tells him. Oh, yes. He forgot that that existed. “I would have asked Y/N, but she would have gotten suspicious.”

“Oh, uh…” Seokjin hesitates, chuckling nervously. “Y/N? Have you, uh, spoken to her recently?”

Cynthia lets out a deep sigh on the other end, what sounds like a billion thoughts weighing her down. “Yeah, she and I had a girls’ night last night. My husband’s away on business.”

“Oh, how are you both doing?” Seokjin asks. He has the decency to pretend that he hasn’t been positively miserable the past few days.

“Wonderful, thanks,” Cynthia said. “Seokjin, did you kiss Y/N?”

“It was a mistake,” Seokjin immediately says. He shouldn’t have done it and now he’s paying the price. He has no idea how long it will take to repair your relationship, or, even worse, if you’ll just go back to the way it was before and pretend it never happened in the first place. “I wanted to tell her that, but I haven’t seen her recently.”

“Don’t,” Cynthia says harshly, making Seokjin jump a bit, wincing as some hot steam hits his bare skin. “Don’t tell her it was a mistake.”

“What do you mean?” Seokjin frowns. Isn’t that what you want? It’s blatantly obvious that you don’t really want a relationship at all, let alone with him. Seokjin doesn’t know what he was thinking when he thought he could change your mind. He was just being selfish. The chance to get to date you under the guise of guidance, and he snatched it up at the first opportunity. 

Well, look at him now. 

“She’ll be heartbroken if you tell her that,” Cynthia tells him, and Seokjin nearly pours boiling hot water all over his arm at the words. “You can’t.”

“What do you mean, heartbroken? She doesn’t want to date me. I’m the one in love with her. I’m the one who should be suffering,” Seokjin says into the phone, his heart starting to race. He wills himself to calm down, to act like everything is normal, but he can’t stop thinking about you. About what Cynthia had said. 

“No, you’re wrong,” Cynthia says. “You couldn’t be more wrong even if you tried. You might be in love with her but she loves you back. She does, I swear.”

Seokjin’s brain nearly short-circuits, the power sparking. “What?” He asks, too hopeful for his own good. “She can’t. I’ve loved her for so long, but we’ve always just been friends. That’s what she wanted.”

“She wants you, Seokjin,” Cynthia says firmly, almost as if she’s reaching through the phone to knock some sense into him. “She didn’t realize that she loved you until you kissed her. And then everything fell into place.”

“You’re lying,” Seokjin says, even though he knows that Cynthia isn’t. 

“Want to know why she hasn’t really dated anyone since midway through college?”

Is it the same reason Seokjin hasn’t, either?

“She was waiting for you,” Cynthia tells you. “She just didn’t know it.”

Seokjin’s about to faint. 

He can hear Cynthia smiling through the phone. “She’s always been waiting for you.”)

[June 21st, 1:22PM]

Seokjin: I’m on my way over to your apartment Seokjin: Don’t ask questions

You’ve long learned by now to listen to Seokjin, to never question his methods. And for once, when you receive a suspicious text out of the blue that says Don’t ask questions, you aren’t scared. You’re thrilled. 

The last time you went this long without contacting each other was when you were just starting to become friends in college, during orientation week where you met five hundred people a day and forgot all of them by the next morning. You and Seokjin eventually caught up with each other when you started seeing each other in the halls of your dorm, living onto a few doors down from each other. 

You didn’t want to be the one to initiate contact. Seokjin had kissed you and then instantly looked like he regretted the entire thing. He had been sitting on his feelings long before you knew that yours even existed. He deserved the space. 

You, well. Cynthia, the wise, wedded woman she is, seems to think that communication is key. Perhaps that’s why she’s been so successful in her love life. 

There’s a knock on your door six minutes after you received the text, the fastest he’s ever gotten to your apartment. 

When you open it, you find a familiar sight: Seokjin, wearing a t-shirt and jeans, a bouquet of flowers in his hand, and a nervous grin on his face, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet like a teenager about to ask his crush to the school dance. 

“Long time no see,” you tell him. 

“I missed you,” Seokjin says honestly. “I really, really did.”

“I did, too,” you tell him. It’s impossible to be away from him. You figured that out briefly when he went abroad in junior year, but were brutally reminded this past week what life is like without him to light it up. And it’s dull. Empty. Missing something. 

“These are for you,” Seokjin says. It’s an entire bouquet of tulips, red and yellow and orange and pink. The scent immediately wafts through the air, brightening up your sullen apartment. 

“They’re beautiful, Seokjin,” you tell him, pressing your nose against the petals as you take in the aroma. The flowers are gorgeous, but Seokjin, as always, steals the show. 

“I was going to bring takeout, but then I thought that you might have already eaten lunch,” Seokjin tells you. 

“Then we can do takeout for dinner,” you suggest as an alternative, fishing through your kitchen cabinets for a vase to put out on your countertop, filled with the tulips and carnations and lilies and hydrangeas. The bouquet he had given you on Tuesday is sitting in your bedroom, and you’re giving it all the plant food you can get your hands on, determined to make them last. 

“You want me to stay for dinner?” Seokjin asks, an eyebrow raised. 

It’s high time you were honest, too. 

“I want you to stay forever,” you admit, and it feels as though the dam has broken, like the first droplet has been spilled and the rest is soon to follow. “I can’t tell you how much I hated being away from you like this. Everything in my life revolves around you.”

“I think about you, every day,” Seokjin says as he comes up to you, joining you in the kitchen as you fill an oversized mason jar with water. “Scratch that. Every hour. Every minute, every second. You’re always on my mind.”

“I thought that was just how you were best friends with someone,” you tell him, feeling the warmth of his body as he stands next to you. “I thought that all of the kind gestures, the traditions, the words, that was what being best friends was. And it is. But I never realized that that was what being in love was like, as well.”

“I thought you’d never figure it out,” Seokjin muses, and it sounds so sad but he looks so happy. “I was ready to never tell you. I was too nervous, every time I’m near you I get all sweaty.”

“You were just going to be in love with me forever?” You ask, turning to him. The thought devastates you, the idea that he was willing to never tell you, to love you silently, for the rest of time. He would have never known what could have been, would have never allowed himself that luxury. And he was okay with it.

“I would rather love you on my own than lose you,” Seokjin tells you firmly. “You’re my best friend. That will never change.”

“But—”

“But nothing,” Seokjin interrupts. “I had made that decision. I was willing to live with it.”

“That’s what people do, isn’t it?” You ask, reaching out to hold his hand in your own, as you have done so many times before, and will do so many times more. The feeling never gets old. The spark never fades. “When they’re in love.”

“I don’t know how you never noticed,” Seokjin jokes, laughing more at himself than you. “I thought I was being so goddamn obvious. Any time I said or did anything that even slightly alluded to the fact that I was in love with you, I started panicking because I thought you’d figure me out. And you never did.”

“I think I just needed a bit of coaxing,” you tell him, hand reaching up to turn his face towards you, palms resting on your cheek. “I would have loved you, forever. I just needed you to tell me that you’d love me, forever, too.”

“I’ll do you one better,” Seokjin promises with a grin. “I’ll love you forever and a day.”

Seokjin leans down, big palms resting on your waist as he finally, fucking finally, presses his lips against yours. It’s soft and warm and cozy, the heat enveloping you as you hold his cheeks in your hands, let him push closer and closer, refusing to let you go. The feeling sends warmth through your veins, sparks a fire in your body that you wouldn’t will away even if you wanted to. Seokjin kisses you, and you kiss back, and it feels like a promise. With your lips against his, and his against yours, you tell each other, that you were meant to be together, and that you always will be. 

You had always wondered why you were never really interested in dating anyone. Never wanted to find someone new, a relationship filled with love and laughter and joy, never wanted to go out on fancy dates and tiptoe around each other, a nervous confession on the tips of your tongues. But now, as Seokjin giggles into another kiss he presses against your lips, you know: you already had exactly what you were looking for. 

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