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vminity21 · 4 years

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Wishes instead of Weeds | jhs

Pairing: DanceTeacher!Hoseok x Waitress!Reader, Pharmacist!Jeongguk x Female!Reader

Word Count: 22,502

Genre: angst/fluff/romance/smut

Warning(s): angst involving heartbreak, strong language use, mention of alcohol, eventual smut, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, breast worship, smutty kissing, potential slow burn? Rated: M

The corner of a faded picture is pressed between your fingertips before thumbing away at some clustered debris covering his face. “Shit,” you whisper between grit teeth, letting your jeans slip from your lap to lightly plop upon the ground. Laundry has been finished hence why the discovery of the picture being found in the pocket brings a wince of pain considering it is one of the few memories you have of the two of you. Your grip loosens to where the photo sways landing face down on the table, your palms sliding along your face and into your hair, sniffling back whatever tears threatening to spill down your cheeks.

Jeongguk left you without any warning.

It’s been a few weeks, but the blow to the chest still feels as fresh as it did the night you came home from an already eventful day at work, stepping into the kitchen, curling your fingers around the handle of the fridge to notice upon opening it that he still hadn’t eaten his leftovers from his favorite restaurant the pair of you frequented a few evenings prior. In fact, your eyebrows creased when you remembered he never came home last night, nor was he in bed when you awoke that morning to chilly covers and a strange feeling harboring your heart. The burning question prompted you to trail to your room, seeing a letter laying crinkled at the end of the exposed mattress.

You would think you would have panicked, dialing his number countless times until he answered, or even sent a bundle of text messages begging him to tell you where he is- if he’s okay, but knowing how he is a man of space, you did nothing of the sort. None of it changed the way your heart shattered into a million pieces when the words stared back at you, haunting you every night sparking more questions than you wanted to deal with. Nothing prepared you for the endless dread of nausea and the empty feeling consuming your entire being, or the loss of his presence mingled with the hopeless dream of him reappearing to tell you he’s sorry for what he’d done to you. But, there’s nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

Hugging your knees to your chest, a faint aroma of his cologne wafts from his jacket hung over the chair across from you. Uncertain of why it had been thrown into the trash, you couldn’t bear to let it go to waste, so instead, it now remains in your vision in hopes of being reunited with its rightful owner. And even now, as tears drip from your chin, you ponder on where everything went wrong, only to find not one answer to reveal itself. There was hardly any fighting. If there were to be a time where the pair of you disagreed upon a matter, Jeongguk would lace your fingers with his, sit you down to discuss the topic at hand. It always resulted in loving grins before he’d lean in to feather a small kiss to your lips.

He told you he loved you as he always did which never incited any suspicions, and though he had his moments of distance, that had never been anything new to you because in the few years of being his girlfriend, he had the days that he wanted to himself in which you gladly let him have. Every decision made, even if it involved a situation as simple as picking a place to eat, both of you would name three places of choice and if a mutual restaurant was said aloud, that would be the result of the evening. Conversation, from what you can decipher, may have dimmed partially, but not much exciting has happened to really talk about other than the promotions of each of your jobs. Hence why there was a celebration at Jeongguk’s favorite restaurant.

You have replayed every scenario from the beginning of the relationship to the end over and over in a relentless loop to the unhealthy point that a slight thud of a headache creates. How can someone leave their significant other, whom they claim they love, without a reason behind it? Even if their reasoning wouldn’t make any sense, at least they have a reason to share. Feeling weak, you rest your chin on your knees, the wrinkled letter that was left for you to find has been placed upon the table only a short distance from the photo you were holding. ‘I’m sorry,’ is scribbled directly in the center of the paper.

Jeongguk never had anything to be sorry for in your mind, until now. With a long, shaky exhale, you use the hem of your sleeve to dry your face, gradually standing to your feet with the intention of putting away the folded laundry to then arranging for bed. Due to your promotion, you’re thankful to discover that you will be making enough money to at least pay the bills for the apartment; with the sudden change of being alone that was one of your top concerns, also not wanting your mother to find out knowing she would send you money immediately. You want to avoid the confession of the breakup, too, because you do not want to feel like a burden to anyone, even if you may have felt that way to him, though you’re not sure if you will ever know. Robotically, the next hour achingly completes before you slip under the sheets, hoping that your day tomorrow will bring you at least a tad bit of strength.

Strong scents of coffee and bacon greet your nose as it does every morning when you arrive at your job that you happen to call your second home. A family member of yours owns the diner that daintily sits off the side of the road surrounded by a recently mowed lawn, and rustic flowerpots gifted by people of the town where a florist visits to ensure the plants will be watered. You’ve always loved the aura of the area, especially with the way people seemed to treat each other, and despite your title being a waitress, which Jeongguk’s parents used to shame until he had stood up for you, you do receive good benefits here. Patting your chest frantically, the rectangular piece of your nametag is felt which relieves you that you hadn’t forgotten about it this morning, bringing enough distraction from the inner heartache you’re trying to suppress.

Clocking in, you briskly scoop up a notepad, helping your co-workers with the breakfast rush; you were promoted to being the assistant manager since you’ve been waitressing here for many years, and thankfully your shifts end at 5:30 pm when your relative takes over, giving you the evenings to yourself. You are mainly responsible for keeping the shelves stocked- placing orders for whatever supplies are needed as well as handling the drawers to ensure the money count is accurate. When you notice one of the employees, Park Jimin is waiting one of the only tables left once the crowd minimizes momentarily, you saunter to the kitchen to check on the chefs since you unfortunately missed greeting them this morning.

“Hey, [Y/N]!” Chef Von says, his puffy cheeks squinting his eyes from how wide he’s smiling- he slaps slabs of meat onto the grill, the sizzling sound popping in your ears, “Are you ready for today?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be!” You reply, squeezing his large shoulder, “What about you?”

“Always,” he chuckles, taking tongs to lightly press the meat harder onto the crackling grill. Another chef, Kim Seokjin, is working on shoving pans of biscuits into the oven, then turning to slice some fruit set off to the side while the dough bakes. Your number one priority when given the chance upon starting your shift is checking on every employee to ensure they’re okay. When all give positive answers, you shuffle behind one of the main counters when first walking into the building to see if any customers need refills. The ding of the door alerts you once you pour a mug of coffee for an individual sitting off to the side, your gaze averting to recognize the tall, thin figure of the restaurant’s regular, Jung Hoseok, hands cuddled into the pockets of his coat, swiftly stepping to the same seat at the counter he occupies every single morning.

A small grin tugs at the corner of your lips, “Long time no see,” you tease, watching the brief tilt of his head that follows a contagious smile, “You want your usual?”

He’s still chuckling, ears bent slightly from the pressure of his cap hiding the majority of his curly hair that peeks enough to decorate his forehead, “You know me so well,” he caves into your joke, clasping his hands together after resting his arms on the counter. Steaming coffee is currently being poured in a mug which you then serve him, “Thank you,” he says, nodding once.

“Of course!” You maintain a cheery façade despite how empty you feel inside, and partly paying attention to what you just jotted down, you place the ticket for Hoseok’s order on the spinning scale before Seokjin swipes it to get started. You divert yourself into cleaning tables that are now vacant from customers, getting lost in the fifteen minutes of helping your co-workers; stacking a pile of plates into your hands you spin on a heel in the direction of the kitchen when someone outside the windows of the restaurant causes you to pause in shock, the plates slipping from your hands where they clash and bang into numerous shattered pieces on the tile floor. Biting your tongue to prevent from cursing, panic overwhelms you while a deep shade of red crimsons your cheeks and chest, sweat perspiring the lining of your forehead from the tension of stares not leaving your frame. By mistake, you thought you saw… But it wasn’t him at all. Jogging to retrieve a broom and dustpan, you sweep the glass shards as efficient as you can, until the silhouette of a co-worker, enters your peripherals.

“Are you okay?” Your best friend, Monica, who you normally call M, asks once you’re a quarter of the way into cleaning.

“Ye-yeah. Yeah,” you stutter, trying to ignore the evident humiliation planted within your expression. M investigates the way your widened eyes have yet to calm, seeing right through your reply.

“I think you need to take a few minutes to breathe,” she offers, and when you can’t seem to clear your head enough to listen, she lightly touches your wrist, “[Y/N], it’s okay, I’ll finish up. Go ahead, take a moment.”

You meet her eyes before nodding in defeat, your quivering chin is enough to tell her that you really haven’t been okay, though she’s unaware of why. The warmth of outside is enough to soothe your skin, your feet determined to make it to one of the picnic tables located on the side of the restaurant where gratefully not a soul happens to be inhabiting. In frustration, you’ve done well masking the truth underlying your hollow smile, or so you thought, but dropping onto the bench, you bury your face in your hands blocking out the crying you fight to hold back.

“Hey…” A tender voice belonging to that of a male springs your gaze up from your stiff hands, shoulders slumping in relief to see it’s Hoseok, though concern clouds his almond eyes.

“I’m- I’m sorry. I hope all that noise didn’t disturb your breakfast,” you apologize, clearly embarrassed, though your grin doesn’t reach your eyes.

Hoseok’s lips part, “No, not at all, in fact, I came to see if you were okay,”

“I am,” you lie because really you are nowhere close to it, but knowing Hoseok made his way to come check on you really means a lot; him being a customer for two years, it’s not like he’s completely a stranger, so at least there’s not any awkward tension.

“Okay, well I hope you don’t mind, but I’m going to sit here until you’re okay,” he says, swinging his thin leg over the seat across from you.

“But- but I am okay-” Obviously caught off guard, Hoseok holds an index finger up to stop you,

“Your nametag is upside down.”

“Huh-” Eyes falling to where your nametag is clipped, you mentally scold yourself because although you felt to make sure you hadn’t forgotten it this morning, you didn’t even think to check to make sure you had placed it correctly, “How did I miss that?” You mutter.

“Also, you’ve been chewing on your lips nonstop since you’ve been here today,” he mentions, you clamping your lips in a firm line when you realize you have been giving them a good gnawing, a habit you only do when under extreme stress. “And,” his gaze flickers to the tip of his converse scraping against the pavement, “I always order a side of pancakes with chocolate syrup. But today I got French toast instead.”

Oh shit, you gasp, eyes widening in horror because the name of the person you do not want to speak of- his favorite is French toast which you accidentally wrote on Hoseok’s order without even realizing. “Oh my gosh, Hoseok,” you pinch the bridge of your nose in shame, “I am so, so sorry. I can’t believe I did that,”

“My point,” he leans forward holding your eyes where worry for your wellbeing hasn’t diminished, “[Y/N]? Are you okay?”

Sadness drowns your mind prompting a brief sigh to brush over your dry lips. Hoseok watches you, and while you concentrate on how overwhelming everything has been, there are details about you he’s noticed that you wouldn’t even notice about yourself; Hoseok is known to be very observant, in some cases, it is a blessing more than a curse, especially when it comes to people he is interested in. With steady hands, you rest them on the picnic table, the cycle of notions running a thousand miles per minute.

When the slam of a car door interrupts the moment, you direct your attention to the sound. A male, with gray strands of hair complimenting a black headband, fumbles with his keys pressing a button that signifies the locking of his car. In one hand, he’s holding what looks like a bouquet of roses; his black sweatshirt brightening the deep shade of red in the sunlight. Your eyes blink to the entrance of the restaurant where you see M, with her palms to her face, jump with excitement as she runs to the man, throwing her arms around his neck. You can’t help the happy flutter in your heart as you watch the guy tighten his arms around her back burying his head into her purple hair, cherishing every second of her as the two sway from side to side.

Memories of…. The person you do not want to name comes to mind, reminding you of the days you realized you were falling in love with him where moments of doses involving the tip of your nose buried into the crook of his warm collar. You catch Hoseok looking back at the adorable couple still enveloped in each other’s embrace, then reverting to glimpse at you. Meeting his gape, but only for a second, you look down towards your frail hands, ignoring the sudden urge to cry, “No,” you murmur, “No, I’m not okay.”

M pulls away, her smile joyous, accepting the bundle of roses. The guy rests his hand on her cheek leaning in for a kiss. You wonder who he is, especially since M has never mentioned a boyfriend, at least not around you, but you inwardly voice that you haven’t been very talkative as of late either. Regardless, your heart melts for her as you watch the couple hand in hand walk into the restaurant.

“Hey,” Hoseok’s tone is endearing- the kind you hear before someone pats the back of your hand in a way to make things seem better. Your heart is so broken, the cheery frontage you have been faking is slowly unzipping, exposing a layer of you that you didn’t want anyone to see.

“I’m-I’m sorry, Hoseok,” you stand to your feet avoiding eye contact, using your palms to smooth out your uniform. “I should get back to work.” Power walking to the entrance of your job, you do not look back, even though you feel guilty for dodging someone who was doing nothing more than being polite. Prolonged stares of your coworkers are a given, especially with how close-knit everyone is, but you can’t let that distract you from your work, so until the end of your shift rolls around, you help take orders to get caught up. It’s all a blur when you find yourself in your car, tentatively focusing on the drive home to when you safely park.

The light is dimming outside and once you turn the key in the ignition, the engine silences, and you lean back in your seat, closing your eyes as you swallow the lump building in your throat. Just call him, those words have echoed various times since Jeongguk’s disappearance, yet you can’t seem to collect enough courage to dial his number. Excuses swarm in your mind; he’s probably busy, maybe he’s with his family, maybe he’s at work; and, you haven’t been able to put how much you wish you knew how he’s been doing to rest; honestly, not much of anything involving him has been put to rest, because how can any closure come from something so hurtful such as this? As much as you want to be angry right now, you can’t bring yourself to be, especially with how much you agonizingly miss him. When you open your eyes, you let out a long exhale through your nose trying to calm the nerves stemming beneath your chest.

You can’t take this anymore. You just need to do it. You need to call him. You need to hear his voice no matter how much it destroys you. No more dithering, you grab your phone, sifting through your contacts until you land on his name. In one quick second, you click it, the screen igniting to show it is dialing. Raising the phone to your ear, you swallow, your mouth uncomfortably dry; your fingertips ice cold while you anxiously wait, each dial pounding in unison with the headache that is now forming. C’mon Guk, C'mon, you interiorly plead, tears glistening in the corner of your eyes, squeezing them shut.

“Hello, this is Jeon Jeongguk, sorry I couldn’t take your call-”

“Damnit!” you wail, hanging up abruptly, tossing your phone into the passenger side. That is the first you’ve heard him speak rounding up to a month, and though no one is watching, your hands hover over your face where you choke out breathy sobs, wishing you never attempted to call. He must think you’re weak, you torture yourself with mindless insecurities, but still, where is he? Which then sparks the next question, do you really want to know? What feels to make matters worse is how you profusely wish he was just here. Right next to you where you used to think he belonged- holding your hand in his especially on nights where you needed his comfort most. None of this makes any sense, because where in the world did you go wrong? Why does this all make you feel like this is completely your fault? What if he ever says you hadn’t tried hard enough? What if-?

The vibration of your phone causes you to jolt, your heart thrumming in your temples as your eyes glued to the phone light reflecting in your car window. With careful hands, you reach for the device, turning it to see who is calling. A sigh of relief fills you when you see the initial M staring back at you. Snorting back as much mucus as you can, you wipe under your eyes one final time before answering.

“Hello,” you wince at the stuffy noise of your voice hoping M doesn’t notice.

“You are the nosiest, inquisitive, you-better-tell-me-now-before-I-cut-you, woman I have ever known, and yet you didn’t ask one- Hey, are you okay?”

“I’m sorry, M,” your laughter is hoarse, “I didn’t mean to ignore you today. But yes. Yes, I would like to know who this man of yours is,” you sniff, the tear stains feeling sticky on your reddened cheeks. “Now, tell me.”

“Not until you get your ass over here,”

“But-”

“I’ve got wine.” She teases; her persuasive, chirpy voice echoing on the line. “Besides, it’s been a while since we’ve had some girl time. So, I suggest you hurry over here before I down this entire bottle!”

“I’m on my way.” You change into some comfy clothes before you leave, arriving in record time, M greeting you at her door dawned in yoga pants and a black sweatshirt which you wonder is from the mystery man who visited her at work earlier today.

“Who’s is that?” you pester, descending onto a bar stool sitting in front of M’s marble counter, the cool material blanketing your arms where you choose to lay them. She shoots you a playful glance, her purple hair covering the fronts of her shoulders.

“Yoongi’s,” she coos, her eyes averting to timidly browsing at the open bottle of red wine.

“Ah, Yoongi? How cute.”

“Oh, shut up,” she pours the both of you a glass, the two of you making cheers before taking a few sips, letting the strong taste pool on your tongue before swallowing.

“Now,” you say, setting your glass down for a moment, “Confess.”

M shakes her head, rolling her eyes before she takes another sip, “We dated in middle school.” Raising your eyebrows in interest, you nod for her to continue. “He ended up moving away, so of course being 12 and broke, we had no choice but to break up.” Her fingers ghost her wine glass to play with the strings at the neckline of the sweatshirt while reminiscing upon her story, “Crazy enough, a few months ago, he got back in touch with me, and I learned that he’s attending University in our town. He’s rooming with his childhood best friend right now. It just amazes me that he remembered me after all this time.”

“You’re the first person he thought of,” you remark.

“Yeah,” she sighs dreamily, her light shade of brown eyes sparkles in the kitchen light, “he surprised me today because his professor canceled class. It’s funny how it works, you know? Love happens when you least expect it.”

And, so does heartbreak, you force a smile to yourself after a long gulp of the bitter liquid, your eyes staring at your hand now cupping the glass, clinking it carefully with your fingernails, you try to shun any thoughts of…. from your mind without any luck. “[Y/N]?” M’s voice is soft and you’re not sure how long you’ve been zoned out, but you smile at her apologetically. “I’ve been quite worried about you lately. You haven’t been your buoyant self, so what gives?”

“I’m sorry, just a little tired.”

There’s a mini pause, one where M gathers her words before choosing to continue, “You know you never answered me earlier.” She mentions, and you chew at your lips as a canopy of guilt floods your vision. You still haven’t told a soul about the breakup, and M is your closest friend and coworker, and you can’t help feeling ashamed for keeping this from her. “And noting the dried dot of mascara on your cheek, I know something’s up.” Your fingertips fly to your face. “Other side,” and you move your hand to rub harshly at the skin.

“Thank you,” you whisper, bringing your fingertips to your mouth, squeezing your eyes shut while a stab of pain enters your already tainted heart. “He left,” is all you can muster, flinching at the thought of his name. Realization commences M’s expression because her eyes widen, her mouth forming an “O” shape in the reaction to how much she did not expect your words.

“Oh [Y/N], I am so sorry. I had no idea-”

“It’s okay. It’s not your fault. I haven’t told anyone… Not even my mom,” you confess- the rest of the wine in your glass calling your name as you try to prevent your heart from crashing again.

“Did he-?” M begins, her eyebrows furrowed in concern, and even though cheating is a potential possibility on the list of why people breakup, you grimace, not wanting to let the thought consume you.

“No. I don’t- I don’t know. He just left without any explanation.”

“What?” M murmurs in disbelief, “I never thought-”

“Me neither,” you down the rest of the wine from your glass not wanting to speak of the situation any longer; as an alternative, you gesture for M to pour you some more. She hesitates at first but dispenses the crimson beverage anyways.

“You know we have work tomorrow,” she reminds you though you engulf your second glass without delay since the buzz you’re gaining lightens the load weighing heavy on your soul.

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” you whine, clumsily reaching for the wine bottle, M grasping it away from you.

“No, ma’am. For someone who barely drinks, you sure are determined to steal it all.”

“It’s for a good cause,”

“Nah- ah!” M taps your hand away after your third attempt, “Your sanity is important. Now, go lay down. If there’s anything you really need, it’s a good night’s sleep.”

You groan, “Why do you have to be such a good friend,” you sag, M rounding the counter to put an arm underneath your shoulders.

“Because I am the bee’s knees.” She banters, helping you relax onto the couch. She leaves the room temporarily, bringing back a blanket to lay over your exhausted frame. “Goodnight, you drunk.” She teases when you sluggishly peer up at her.

“Goodnight, you killjoy.”

“Hey, you’ll thank me when you awaken without a splitting headache.”

“And, I’ll believe it when I arise from this couch at seven in the AM.”

She makes it to the entrance leading into the hallway to her bedroom while you cuddle into the blanket with immense appreciation; M pauses to look behind her shoulder at you, laughter echoing throughout the tiny living room. After a moment, gratitude overcomes you. “Thank you for tonight,” you beam, thankful to have a friend like her. M is the reason you make it through your shifts a hundred percent of the time; even on days like this when you feel so desolate, and you can’t even see the positivity right in front of you, M knows how to bring the best out of you, hence why the two of you have been stuck like glue since the day you met.

She holds your gaze, “Always… And [Y/N]?”

“Hm,” you grunt groggily, feeling the heavy flutters of your eyelids begging for slumber, but your ears perk enough, especially when M’s next words bring hushed tears to your tired eyes.

“You’ll get through this; I have no doubt. Whatever is going on, he made his choice. He’s running from this because he’s ashamed of something.”

Though the words echo in the night, they place themselves into your conscious until you drift into sleep- He’s running from this because he’s ashamed of something- and when dreams start to encompass your conscious, by some miracle you forget- you forget about the person who originally had been on your mind.

The following morning, you almost do not recognize where you are when your groggy eyelids open just enough to realize you are laterally pressed upon the couch of M’s; shadows of plants decorated throughout the living room clear into your peripherals once you shift your weight to lay onto your back. Uncertain of the time, you’re aware it’s way too early to prepare for work, but you also regret not packing a bag last night although you didn’t quite plan to drink as much as you did. For now, you stare at the ceiling, counting the imaginary stars you wish would align to a brighter path versus the sadness returning to plague your heart yet again.

He hadn’t appeared in your dreams this time, which alludes to the pondering question of why. Figuring it may have to do with not waking up in your bedroom, where he used to lay beside you, could potentially be the daunting reason, and you swallow the budding lump in your throat pleading with your memories to stay repressed as much as possible, but it’s no use. Jeongguk used to slip his strong arm around you every night, his solid chest pressed to your back before he’d touch a slow, warm kiss to your temple that sent tingles across your skin. And, it was always your safe place. The one part of your day that you always looked forward to, where his closeness brought you some form of peace that you needed. But… now that you think of it, he discontinued that routine maybe within the last six months before he fled, and the realization makes you want to beat yourself up for ignoring what could have been the biggest sign that something hadn’t been right.

This isn’t your fault.

Automatically, you squeeze your eyes shut before rubbing them roughly with your fingertips, begging to stop this nonsense of blaming yourself. You know this isn’t your fault, yet the pain doesn’t fade away enough to find some form of relief. It’s then, you rush to your feet, folding M’s blanket to nestle into the corner of the couch before slipping on your shoes and grabbing onto your keys and wallet before quietly treading out the door. There’s just enough time to throw in a quick shower before performing your daily morning list the second you reach your home- freshening up until you eventually find yourself in the driver’s seat, slowly turning the key until the roar of your car awakens.

You remember him like it was yesterday. Or every yesterday in between. Where he placed his large hand on your thigh as you kept your laughing eyes on the road. Every song that came on the radio, Jeongguk would sing to, holding his bunny smile while you cheered him on, letting his vibrato whisk you away into a giddy world where you hoped and prayed it would never end. But it did, you want to scream in pure frustration, because it seems no matter where or what you do, everything reminds you of him. And it’s not fucking fair. The lining of your jaw tenses when you notice the gritting of your teeth, and the stiff way your hands grip the steering wheel as you drive. It’s not like you can help it with the breakup still being so fresh, but you wish time would heal much faster than how it’s been in the last month.

Smoky smells of savory meat waft in the air while your shoes crunch along the gravel lot; few cars are parked meaning the morning crowd hasn’t officially arrived, so with quick precision, you clock in, bursting into the kitchen to greet the chefs who are in the process of chopping vegetables in fast motion against large cutting boards.

“I still don’t get how you two do that without cutting your fingers off,” you tease, eyes widening as they slice- shaking your head in disbelief.

Seokjin shrugs, “Practice makes perfect,” his plump lips form an eloquent smirk before gesturing his clear-gloved hand to reveal a few small scars etched on some of his fingers.

“When you’ve been in the business as long as I have, it becomes second nature,” Chef Von’s smile causes his eyes to crinkle at the corners, evident gray hairs shimmer in his trimmed sideburns as he glances down to retrieve more ingredients to cut.

“Well, before I am tempted to see if I can chop some onions at the speed of light, I’m going to take some orders,” turning on a heel to leave the kitchen, Seokjin and Von’s chuckles reverberate behind you, reminding you of how thankful you are for every one of your coworkers. They are your family, which is something you treasure- sending a quick hello to waitress LenLen and waiter Jimin, they rush past to gather whatever was asked of them by their tables. You’re so distracted, you almost miss the brush of M’s shoulder as she ambles past- her way of saying hi after she clocks in, and you smile to yourself as you watch your best friend sprint to take the first table in her section’s order.

It takes a second before you round the counter to make a fresh brew of coffee, refilling an elderly man’s mug, before your eyes raise to see the figure of Jung Hoseok entering the restaurant- the jingle of the doorbell foggy within your ears when a pang of guilt hits your chest at the memory of yesterday. Being you are a professional at your job, you welcome him as though you don’t feel any awkward tension you typically are overthinking, “How are you this morning?” You ask, pouring him a steaming cup of the liquid, carefully sliding it towards him without spilling droplets of the content.

“Dandy!” He chuckles, his thin fingers curling around the handle as he takes a seat.

“Hey, that’s a great answer!” You smile, scribbling the correct order before spinning to pin it where Seokjin can see it.

“Hello, Hoseok!” M bellows, rushing past with a pitcher of water, “Funny seeing you here!”

“Hello to you too, Monnie!”

“Oh my word,” you giggle at her scurried state, “She’s a trooper I tell you,” you admire how hard she works, especially with how many tables she’s willing to tackle at once, and she never once complains.

“How are you?” There’s a concern in his tone that matches his eyes when you give him a knowing look pooling with culpability from when you rudely dodged him. Quickly dropping your gaze, you nervously check your nametag, appreciating that you put it on properly today, then returning his stare with a gentle grin.

“I’m doing well, thank you,”

“I’m glad to hear that,” he says genuinely, and though what you said is partly a lie, the other half of you doesn’t feel as anxious as the day before. Your grin falls a tad when you keep reliving the incident prior, and running your palms along your apron uncomfortably, you decide now must be the right time to apologize since there isn’t many customers currently.

“Hoseok, I um,” you stammer, “I’m so sorry. For yesterday. I shouldn’t have run off like that. It was very rude of me.”

“No need to apologize,” he waves briefly, the corners of his mouth smiling wider in assurance, “You’re fine I promise. I didn’t take any offense to it whatsoever.”

Holding his brown eyes, you are incredibly grateful for his kindness, “Thank you. Really, thank you. It was extremely sweet of you to check up on me.”

“Anytime,” you’ve always loved seeing his smile, which you almost envy, although it is comforting to see every morning especially when you need a pick-me-up. The man has visited the restaurant every single morning for over 730 days, and yet you don’t know a single thing about him other than he orders the same exact thing for breakfast, and that he almost always comes alone.

Swarms of customers bustle into the restaurant putting a kick in your step to seat them, hand out menus and take orders, refilling drinks as you go- the typical morning crowd distracts to where you set aside the thoughts of your personal life for the time being, and once everything settles, you rush to the counter where Hoseok’s order is ready. Cautiously carrying the platter to him, steam rises from the cakes, the smell making your mouth water as a small gurgle erupts from your belly. Unfortunately, you forgot to eat this morning from your rush getting to work, and it reminds you that you hardly have been eating as much since… you shake your head to rid of the person you’re trying to forget.

“Pick a number from one through ten,”

“Huh,”

Hoseok’s words awaken you from your mini zone-out, cutting into the pile of deliciousness- the chocolate drizzle melting further into the layers before his eyes return to his phone screen set out beside him. “Pick a number between one and ten,” he repeats, still gluing his gaze to his cellular device.

Chuckling, confusion is obvious in your demeanor, your hands moving to rest on your hips, “Uh,” you draw out, “Seven.”

“Let’s see,” he murmurs, scrolling through the screen until he pauses, mouthing whatever words he’s reading, “Ah, okay, what is your favorite color?”

“Oh, that’s easy!” You shrug nonchalantly in preparation of answering until you see one of your customer’s almost finished with their plate. “Hold that thought,” you held up an index finger, swiftly checking on your tables, collecting payments, and returning to check on Hoseok once the coast becomes clear. You feel awful when you see that his plate is nearly empty, continuously apologizing for how long it's taken you to get back to him, but he assures you it’s fine considering you’re at your job and that he’s the one who is sorry for distracting you.

“Now,” he leans forward with clasped hands, his plate set to the side along with his empty coffee mug, “What is your favorite color?”

“Purple,” you reply, shifting your weight whilst wiping your hands on a small towel you picked up on the way to check on him, “My favorite color is purple.”

“I think I knew that already,” he ponders for a moment.

“You do? How did you-?”

“You said a while back about that being the reason you knew Monnie was going to be your best friend.”

“Because she has purple hair,” you murmur, finishing his sentence, “I remember that.”

“And your pen is also-”

“Purple,” your fingertips brush against the pen hooked to the hem of your shirt in amazement of his memory being how long it has been since M started.

“Can I borrow it?” His question surprises you at first, but you shrug, pressing your lips together while nodding.

“Sure,” you set it before him, “Keep it, I have an extra.”

With a thumbs up, his eyes are back on his cellphone, “One more,”

“Question?”

“Mhm,”

“Alrighty, uhm.. Ten,”

“What is,” he starts slowly, his gaze in pure concentration, “What is your favorite flower?”

“Good question,” contemplating, you suck in your lips, because your flower of choice has always surprised people, especially since it’s not actually a flower at all. In fact, it is nothing, but a weed in many eyes. “Dandelion. One hundred percent, dandelions.”

“Wow,” Hoseok leans back slightly, “I’ve never heard that one before.”

“Have you ever seen dandelion seeds?”

“I have,”

“Well, if I could say every wish I have made with those things, you’d think I’m insane.”

“Wishes,” he speaks softly as if to himself, but loud enough for you to hear. “You see them as wishes instead of weeds,”

“Always have,” there are moments when the sun shines through the windows but happens to brighten more in certain moments perhaps when clouds move out of the view.

“What’s the biggest wish you’ve ever made if you don’t mind me asking?”

The question catches you off guard, your lips parting with the intention of answering, but with your luck, the signal of the door’s bell is all that is needed to have to interrupt the interesting conversation. It feels good to be asked questions and throwing Hoseok an apologetic glance, you immediately greet the family of four to then lead them to a clean, empty table. Performing your job by checking on your other tables, you scoop up dishes to be taken to the kitchen sink, losing track of time before you can head back to see if Hoseok’s okay. To your dismay, the seat he had occupied is now vacant, and you watch as M quickly sets the coffee mug upon the plate, disappearing into the kitchen with them.

Disappointment clouds you, though you are stunned by that fact. Inching closer to the counter, something enters your vision that you hadn’t realized was there. A green bill sits with what looks to be a ripped sheet of paper with a logo printed on the edge, which you recognize to be from M’s notebook is laying on top. Your fingertips graze the paper, the corner of the bill revealing it to be twenty bucks, which causes you to gasp in surprise considering his breakfast, which you give him a discount due to his customer loyalty and overall politeness, is a whopping $3.20. Your eyes then drop to the note which you observe is written with purple ink:

‘Sorry, had to run.

Keep the change. And I really do hope that you’re okay.

Hoseok : - )’

For safekeeping, the note from Hoseok is folded neatly within your wallet where small treasures gifted from friends remain. Though not highly superstitious, you still consider these reminiscent trinkets as good luck charms, something to bring a smile on your face when you need it the most. Jingling keys are the only sound reverberating in the parking lot before the thumps of your shoes bounce up the stairs. The lights are off as always when you finally enter your home though the vacancy of the atmosphere doesn’t feel like a home plaguing the persistent dread of loneliness. You did, however, inform your mother about the breakup during your drive to the apartment, her muttering under her breath how she knew something was up, yet you dwindled whatever excuses you could to defend him. Though defending him at this point leaves a sour taste in your mouth.

Shoving off your shoes, you hastily prepare for a shower, cleansing the sadness off your frame before drying your hair and throwing on some pajamas to then laying a fresh uniform out for work the following morning. Gazing around the room, you gather the pale white of the walls only decorated with sparse posters of favorite artists as well as replicas of items that have featured in shows that you and… Jeongguk enjoyed. Swallowing roughly, you flit your stare to the dresser drawer where pictures of your family and friends are held in small frames; though you and Jeongguk hardly ever took pictures together, photography or simply delighting in the scenery and family was something the two of you shared. Your fingertips nestle upon the mahogany surface where the smooth wood has a chill to the touch despite the small clouds of dust collecting at the tips of your nails. Wiping the lint onto your sweatpants, you grimace at how unclean you have been as far as maintaining your room, but once you’re home after a long day, it’s hard to get back into the routine of keeping the apartment spotless. Especially when the only thing you desire is to hide under the comforter as if to avoid being reminded of reality.

Intending to power clean on your next day off, you rake a tired hand through your hair, pausing to then wrap your arms around your waist for comfort. It is the jar at the corner of your bedside table that prompts a dreary mist to your eyes. Just a large mason jar filled with extra money in tips that you’ve been able to salvage despite bills, and the first-night discovering Jeongguk’s departure, you sifted through every item in the closet until you found it, where you had originally kept it hidden. IRELAND, printed in bold letters, proudly sticks to the center of the jar reminding you of the plan you had to surprise him, one day, with tickets to both of your dream destination for a romantic getaway. If there was one place the two of you dreamed more than life, it was to escape to Ireland for as long as you both could, to view the scenery hand in hand with triumphant smiles of ‘we made it’ planted across the both of your faces.

When the two of you met, you had just started college, soon discovering college wasn’t for you, but Jeongguk, bright-eyed with a thin-lipped smile, drew you in like no other. He kept you going until you finished out the school year- your family member offering you a job as a waitress, where you work now until you found something that interested you for a lifetime. Jeongguk is a pharmacist, but during his prerequisites, was how the two of you were first introduced; one thing led to another, and before you knew it, he was holding your hand in the hallways; sneaking kisses between classes; gifting you with fortune cookie quotes every time he ordered take out on late nights of essays and online quizzes; snuggling you on the weekends when the two of you were too exhausted to finish an entire movie; driving you at odd hours of the night to purchase your favorite snacks when mother nature came to knock on your door; random adventures to gaze at scenery whether it be the mountains or the beach; and endless conversations of each of your dreams discovering the two of you shared a deep love for a trip to Ireland.

But that dream ended all too soon. Died the moment he wrecked your heart. When tears threaten to spill onto your cheeks, you step to reach for the jar, deciding to hide it away once again. Out of sight, just like the memories, you wish would disappear from your mind. Once under the covers with the hope of feeling safe and sound, you can’t help but miss his presence- pressing the space of the mattress behind you, cuddling his warm face to the back of your neck. The pain seeping into your chest is nearly excruciating mingled with the pleading of not wanting to think about him, but there’s no use.

Jeongguk was your first everything. First kiss, first boyfriend, first roommate, first time, first love. He was the first man to have such a hold over your heart, and you never imagined that he would just let it go- just like that.

Let you go- just like that.

It was two years later when the two of you were both financially stable enough, that you found this apartment and moved in together. And, nearly one year later after that, only weeks leading to the renewal of the lease, here you are, in a chilly bedroom, all alone, with no answers to the million questions as to why.

Why.

Sniffling back the little tears that managed to escape onto the bedsheets, you long for this turmoil to end, restlessly turning onto your back where your eyes squeeze shut.

If there’s anything you wish for, even on countless dandelion seeds,

it’s to be happy again.

The last gulp of your protein shake hits the spot, trekking from your car to the entrance of the restaurant, you mentally prepare yourself for the day ahead – the same repetitive routine: greeting your fellow coworkers with kind smiles along with checking up on their well-being as a good manager and a person does, scamper to check on occupied tables, and take orders of arriving customers once they’ve been seated. Time zips past and while rounding the main counter to check on refills and starting another pot of coffee, you notice Hoseok sipping from his mug, prompting a double-take because a prolonged realization reveals you hadn’t quite recognized him right away without his hat on. Curly tendrils frizzle along his forehead and you take in his innocent eyes sweeping the wall above the kitchen opening where picture frames are present. Approaching him, you observe a black watch adorning his left wrist where he still holds the mug to his lips, and next to him rests a brown paper bag which you assume holds a snack of some sort.

“Hey, Stranger,” you grin at him, and you notice dimples embellish his face from where he returns the smile, settling his beverage before him. “Don’t you get tired of seeing the same little ole’ faces every single day?”

“Not at all,” he chuckles, “It’s practically my job!” Running his fingers along his jaw, then returning to fold his hands in front of him to lean on his elbows. As much as you hate to admit it, no matter how internally it is, you feel guilty at the budding attraction you have welling beneath your sternum that a light shade of pink etches your cheeks. Hoseok has always been a handsome man, but you never seemed to notice until you really started to merely look at him.

The question comes out a little quicker than expected, “Pancakes with chocolate syrup?”

“Pancakes with chocolate syrup,” he nods once in confirmation.

“Coming right up,” you wink, turning to enter the kitchen, bellowing, “Hoseok’s usual!”

“On it like a faucet!” Seokjin’s voice echoes back to you. Turning on a heel, you continue your grand customer service, tending to as many tables, as you can until Hoseok’s order, is up.

“Alright, new number,” he suddenly says as you set his plate of steaming pancakes onto the counter, “Between one and ten, but not seven nor ten.”

Chuckling, you eye him suspiciously at the randomness of it all, yet you’ve always found it delightful to answer questions- it’s fun to search through your own mind and list your interests and hobbies; it’s quite a nice distraction from the bustling of the restaurant, though the crowd has dimmed down enough to have a few minutes with Hoseok. “Uh, five?”

“Okay! What is your favorite food?”

“Ooo,” you coo, placing your palm on your chin while you lean forward upon the counter. It’s not the norm for you to do that, but with fewer people around to be able to stare, the more comfortable you feel to slack just a tad bit. “Beef bulgogi,”

“Next,”

“Next?”

“Next number,”

“Oh!” Shaking your head once you understand, you concentrate to remember which numbers you haven’t said yet, “Two?”

“Favorite animal?”

“Okapi. Eight,”

“Favorite season?”

“Spring. Four,” Sprinting to check on the remaining folks finishing up their plates, you refill drinks and dispose of empty dishes before rushing back to see what question four will be. You find the anticipation to be silly, but a good silly because for once you feel an excitement you’ve been needing for a while.

“Favorite game?”

“Uno. One,” there is only a few more questions to juggle while you rush back and forth between tables and something dawns on you.

“Favorite music genre?”

“Pop- hey, wait a minute,” Hoseok’s eyes widen as if startled while he puckers his lips, seeing the way your hands rest on your hips where you tap your fingers against your apron, a teasing glare pins him in place. “This game is rigged.”

“Oh?”

“How come I’m the only one answering all the questions?”

There’s always the annoying cues that tend to interrupt when you reach an interesting point in your job, and when you straighten your posture, you notice what looks to be a party of ten entering the building. Vague familiarity brushes over a few faces, potentially previous consumers, all wearing business attire, but when your gaze lands on one of the men, a jolt of pure terror begins to ram harshly against your rib cage. Hoseok notices the way your frame became rigid and with furrowed eyebrows, he turns enough to look behind him not hearing your footsteps shoot forward to seat the group. Clicking your purple pen, you shakingly jot down their drink orders after welcoming them, trying with all your might to swallow down the overwhelming sense of nausea.

“Well, how are you, dear?” Mr. Jeon, Jeongguk’s father, though with a kind smile, greets you. Clear glasses are poised on the bridge of his nose, and despite his bout of disapproval upon you being a waitress, there seems to be not one smidge of tension amongst him which you are taken aback by, and you force to hide your bewilderment with a polite expression.

“I’m doing very well, Mr. Jeon. How are you?” A blush heats over your chest from the stares looming at you from the rest of the table, and all you can wonder is what made Jeongguk’s father come to this particular restaurant? And, why today of all days? Why ever? You understandably can see it being a coworker who loves this restaurant offering this to be where they eat today but didn’t Mr. Jeon know that you worked here at this specific location or did he simply forget?

“I’m doing well,” he nods as if contemplating his answer, “How has the job been treating you?”

“Good, as always,” you nod, wishing nothing more than to melt into the floor. “I’ll be right back with your drinks,” swiftly bowing, Mr. Jeon awkwardly clears his throat.

“Of course, of course. I’ll let you get back to work,”

It doesn’t take long to get all the beverages ready, and once you take their food order, you clip it up for Seokjin and Von, ducking into the restroom where you can fill your lungs with a much needed deep breath. Fighting the urge to hyperventilate, your hands curl on either side of the sink, gripping so tight your knuckles whiten. Holy shit. The coppery taste of blood heightens your senses and you realize you have been gnawing on your lips much harder than usual. You can’t even raise your head enough to look in the mirror without the risk of vomiting, so instead, bending close enough, you turn on the spigot, to feel tiny flecks of water nicker your nose, rinsing your mouth with lukewarm water.

Persuading whatever you can to calm down, you try convincing yourself how you have met the man before, how he was practically your father-in-law at one point, yet the intense feeling of your heart pounding was still present. You are so shaken up my Mr. Jeon’s presence, you pace back and forth once you part from the sink, pleading with your stomach to not release the breakfast you had earlier. Thoughts of Hoseok seem to mingle, hoping M has been able to tend to him to make sure he doesn’t need anything else, and you find yourself amazed by just the mere thought of his smile bringing you at ease even if for a moment. He always seems so happy, and in a way, you envy him for it, although you know realistically speaking, no one in the universe has a perfect life no matter how you slice it, but at least some can find their happiness again which you long for desperately.

Scolding yourself, you are not sure how long you remain hidden within the bathroom, and when your belly decides to simmer down, you press your eyes close and whisper some form of encouragement before returning to the bustling floor of the restaurant. Realizing in slight chagrin, you notice Mr. Jeon and his company have been digging into their plates, and you thank your lucky stars for M because you know she is the culprit for making sure your job is still being maintained.

“Ah, there she is!” Mr. Jeon proclaims, swiping his napkin briefly over his mouth.

“I apologize for my absence, I can grab pitchers for some refills-” you start, observing some of the glasses being halfway consumed, but Mr. Jeon waves a hand to stop you.

“No need. Ms. Monica informed us that the delivery truck had arrived. I didn’t know you were the assistant manager now. I can’t believe my son hasn’t told me!”

M saves the day yet again, and before you can breathe a sigh of relief, your breath hitches instead, “Hasn’t?” What does Mr. Jeon mean by the present tense? Maybe Jeongguk… never felt the need of informing his parents since they originally disproved of your waitressing to begin with. Trying to prevent the urge to scrunch your eyebrows, you try to keep a nonchalant demeanor as you continue speaking after realizing Mr. Jeon hadn’t reiterated, “Why, yes! Yes, I am now the assistant manager. I was promoted around the same time your son was.” Flinching, you still have a hard time saying his name aloud, and you hope to the heavens that Mr. Jeon didn’t notice as you fondle with the hem of your apron, your fingertips evidently numb.

Elbowing one of his coworkers he chuckles, “She’s got him wrapped around her finger. It’s been that way for years. I can’t even get the couple to visit us anymore,”

“Mr. Jeon,” you try to say at the daunting discovery you have unraveled, but your words die on your tongue.

“Say, how is Jeonnguk doing?” Lightheaded, you hardly hear the question, much less the feel of a tender hand being placed upon your shoulder.

“He’s good!” M’s voice snaps you back to reality as you dizzily reach over to refill a drink from the pitcher M had set on the table.

“Yeah,” you reply in clear discomfort, “He’s doing wonderfully I suppose.”

When the men are finished with their meals, you and M collect the dishes and silverware before bringing their checks to collect payments; Mr. Jeon nods his goodbye when the group gathers to exit the restaurant. Appearing into the kitchen, the chefs are too busy cooking to notice, and M follows suit, “[Y/N], if you need a minute-” M’s voice is thick with worry especially when she notices your eyes pooling with unshed tears.

“He doesn’t know,” your voice cracks, “Mr. Jeon doesn’t know that we broke up,”

M’s expression is incredulous after the confusion dissipates from her eyes, but she squeezes your hand to provide whatever strength she can give. Jeongguk’s father is unaware of the breakup, and here you are made a fool because of it, or that is how you see it.

“Maybe something bad has happened to him?”

“No,” you sigh, not wanting to relive the memory, “he left a note that said ‘I’m sorry,’ written on it. That’s how I know that he did this willingly,”

Silence drifts between you and your best friend for a few minutes before she pulls you into a crushing hug. Relief to have such a wonderful support system, you return the hug only letting a few more tears fall to retain your composure.

“I’m telling you he’s running because he’s ashamed of something, hence why he never said anything to his family,” M reminds you of the advice she gave what feels like a lifetime ago, “He will realize what he lost in due time, but for now, just focus on you. Maybe there are some things individually he needs to work on himself... Though that doesn’t change the fact that he should have communicated, but see this as an opportunity to find yourself, too.”

“You’re right,” you pull away, inhaling a slow breath before letting it out, “Maybe I just need to switch up my point of view,” even though you long for closure that may never come, but at least you can try to recover without knowing the full story. Maybe it is possible. “Thank you,” you whisper swiping under your eyes one more time, until you remember a certain, handsome customer you were originally serving. You gasp with enlarged eyes, “Hoseok!” Completely forgetting to check on him, you want to kick yourself for losing focus on your job despite the circumstances, and when you sprint out of the kitchen, your shoulders fall when seeing that his seat is no longer holding him. The empty mug rests on top of the plate that has leftover chocolate drizzle dolloped sporadically from where the pancakes were devoured; stepping to collect the dishes, something else encapsulates your sight.

Laying on the countertop sits what shows to be another twenty-dollar bill which once again stuns you from how cheap Hoseok’s breakfast is, but what rests beside the tip is what moves you to tears as a tiny gasp muffles into your palm. A circle of four yellow dandelions emerge in your line of vision, the fragrance of them greeting your nose. Once you’re close enough to fully absorb what you’re seeing- there laying in the center, encompassed by the golden petals,

is a white sphere of dandelion seeds still supported by its faded, green stem.

You would be lying if you said you weren’t disappointed when the following morning Hoseok never arrived for his routine breakfast, especially since you have the day off tomorrow. With your heart anticipating to thank him for the gift he left for you, you try to busy your mind with your job, so that the overwhelming thoughts of the regular didn’t occupy every crevice of your brain. But of course, it doesn’t one hundred percent work because the constant questions spin through, what if he went out of town? How long will he be gone? What if something bad happened? Maybe he had to work extra early even though you haven’t the slightest idea where he works. What if he is visiting a friend? Family? …Girlfriend?

Shaking your head from the foolish inquiries, you wrestle with the anxiety until lunchbreak, grabbing your packed sandwich from the fridge and sauntering to the picnic bench outside. Once again, not any customers were occupying them, and with the sun being high in the cloudless sky, you are thankful for the weather providing a cooling breeze. Halfway into your sandwich, your attention is so consumed by the article you are reading on your phone, the sudden slap of an item hitting the wood of the table causes you to jump before you realize what it is.

Uno. An Uno box is staring back at your wide eyes as you swallow whatever food you hardly chewed. Trailing to see who brought the card game, your heart flutters when you meet the smiling eyes of Jung Hoseok.

“My goodness you scared me!” You release a string of giggles in response to the adrenaline dimming and partially because you are happy to see him, a lot more than you expected.

“I’m sorry about that, it was kind of my intention, but not really,” he teases, descending across from you, his cap sitting perfectly upon his head to where his curls still decorate his forehead. You want to bring up the dandelion seeds and mention how much they mean to you even though you are not sure where to begin. Even combing through your memory, you can’t think of a time someone left you something so thoughtful.

“I’ll get you back,” you grin playfully, reaching for the box of cards with vengeance in tow, “I am quite the extraordinaire at Uno,”

“Ah, your confidence is astounding,” his smile widens, “But, I think you have met your match.”

“Bring it on,”

A few games pass with competitiveness you never knew you had, and it draws mild attention from customers about to enter the restaurant, but you could care less. When deciding on the final game, you discard.

“You forgot something,” Hoseok’s mischievous smirk sparking a dimple, flitting your gaze back to him, your mouth forms an ‘Oh’ in confusion,

“Uno.”

“Oh shit!” You slap a palm to your forehead, listening to your component cackle as he hands you four cards from the pile. The game prior, you each had one card left, and when you for sure thought you had him cornered, he placed a draw four WILD card onto the pile. “I give up,” you lean back with a deflated ego, and a lopsided grin, “You win. Again.”

“I’ll go easy on you next time,” he winks, a small flutter awakens within your chest, but you attempt to disperse the gnawing feelings that you can’t explain. Reaching for the cards- to stack neatly to return to its box- Hoseok’s fingers brush yours with the same intention. Awkwardly, you pull away, letting him pile the cards where they belonged, the feel of his fingertips still lingering on yours, a subtle blush creeps onto your cheeks. To distract yourself, you check your phone for the time, your heart falling in disappointment when you only have seven minutes left. Though you will not admit it to yourself, you aren’t disappointed in the fact you have to return to work, you are disappointed that your time with Hoseok has to end for the day.

“Thank you by the way,” you murmur softly, yet loud enough for him to hear. Hoseok looks up at you after stuffing the cards in the box as if confused on what you mean. “Honestly, thank you for everything. The questions, bringing the card game… And the dandelion seeds.” You smile timidly, “I don’t think you realize how much it’s helped distract me.”

Nodding, he doesn’t break eye contact, his smile so kind you can hardly ignore the flickers within you increasing, “Anytime. I can tell you’ve seemed down lately, and I know what that’s like, so I figured, why not find ways to help.”

The way your heart moves at his words, you are so touched that phrases dissipate from your tongue and in replacement, Hoseok is met with a look of awe dawning your expression. How can someone be so incredibly kind? You have known him for two years yet he has done more for you in such a short span of time that you realize you have gradually been gaining your smile back, especially when around him. When the two of you stand, you round the table in the direction of the restaurant and your shoulder happens to brush his arm.

“For you, Ma’am,” Hoseok stops, turning to face you fully to perform a courteous bow as he gestures the card game toward you.

“Oh, Hoseok, no you don’t have to do that!” Out of shock, your hands cup his that are still holding what happens to be another gift for you, the warmth of his skin prompting the reddened hues of your cheeks.

“I insist,”

“Hoseok, you really don’t have to,” but you lose the battle for as you head back into the restaurant, a giddy smile remains on your face as you tuck the box of cards safely into your purse.

Even as time passes into a few weeks, you find a day off leads into sleeping in until eleven in the morning which also results in you cleaning the entire apartment until it is spotless. Despite the ongoing guilt exhausting you inwardly, you store nearly everything of Jeongguk’s in a spare closet where it will stay away from your line of vision until you have the guts to rid of everything that you know he will never come back for. Lemony scents envelop each room, and you carry the final, hefty trash bag to the dumpster exasperated from the constant moving. Although, accomplishment is a wonderful feeling especially when you nibble on some lunch, soon turning to fall back onto your made bed. Closing your eyes for a split second, a sigh of relief brushes your grinning lips, your arms sprawled out on either side of you; when your phone vibrates on your dresser, the loud noise against the wood scares you at first as you jump suddenly with enlarged eyes, sporadically reaching for your cellphone where the familiar initial of your best friend appears.

“What did you do,” you tease.

M scoffs, “Bold of you to assume that I’m the culprit! Alas, I am sitting here alone on my lunch break, and thought I’d call to check up on you. Everything okay?”

“My apartment smells like lemons,” you reply with a wide smile.

“Oh! It was that bad?”

“Yeah,” you laugh, remembering that you need to put the vacuum you used earlier back into the laundry closet.

“No wonder why you haven’t invited me over. Now, I’m not as offended,” M jokes, munching on what you assume is a chip.

“You can come over tonight if you’d like,”

M sighs, “I would, but Yoongi is wanting to introduce me to his BFFLs’ that he’s made thus far.”

“From college I presume?” You wonder, imagining all the insults M is probably practicing just in case if she needs them.

“Yes, I think they’re majoring in the same thing, but I don’t remember.” M munches on another chip, “If they’re cute, do you want me to hit you up? You know, get them to slide in them DMs.”

“Do you even know their names?”

“Of course, I do!” M gasps, “Taejoon and Namyung.”

When the two of you manage to calm your laughter, M then shares some words of encouragement, the two of you finishing the call once the end of her lunch break nears. Roaming around the apartment, you take in the clean atmosphere, breathing in the lemon scent, and letting the sunlight shine through the windows along the furniture, bringing a subtle warmth to the air. Peace. Returning to your room, you hook your phone to the charger, your eyes pan over the dresser until they land on the dandelions you were given a few weeks ago. A small smile forms on your lips. The petals have completely dried although the scent persists; the sphere that holds numerous wishes disguised as seeds remains resting above them though the stem is shriveled.

Hoseok has asked you several questions, learning new things about you every day. Even when you try to learn at least one thing about him, something always interrupts, or he avoids answering and distracts you with another question that piques your interest. Ever since he witnessed your breakdown with the plates, it’s like he hasn’t let a day go by where he’s not finding a new way to make you smile. To make sure you’re okay. Your eyes still trained on the dandelion pile; a sudden urge awakens within you. Reaching for the withered stem, you rush out of the apartment, trampling down the steps until your bare feet find the large area of grass behind the complex. With the sun still beaming, the heat encompassing your skin, you bring the cloud of seeds to your lips, closing your eyes before making the wish that is dying to be whisked away in the breeze.

You make your wish- gently blowing at the loosening seeds- one by one they are captured by the wind, and with hopeful eyes and a promising smile, you watch until the seeds disappear into the unknown.

For the first time in a long time,

you are actually excited for the days ahead.

Hoseok fidgets with the gold watch as he tries to attach it onto his left wrist. It’s been years since he’s seen the watch, but his sister came to town from college weeks ago, surprising him with it. Taking a brief look in the mirror, Hoseok then heads to his car, his gurgling stomach waiting for the pancakes- a routine he has done for so long he’s forgotten how many years it's really been. Once arriving, his eyes trail the restaurant for you, his pending gift he has waiting at home isn’t finished quite yet, so when he discovers that you happen to be off today, he settles in the same stool, M bellowing his order to the cooks in the back.

M retrieves Hoseok’s coffee, him taking a sip, letting the heat of the liquid warm his figure; he gazes at the pictures on the wall. One frame, particularly, he searches for and once his eyes land upon it, it brings a sense of reminiscence from his childhood. In the picture, it has Hoseok as a young boy, his smile is so wide that his eyes disappear, his cheeks rosy, and his hair was much darker; a strong arm is over his shoulders revealing his grandpa with an equally large smile. In front of them, sits two plates with heaping layers of pancakes- chocolate syrup drizzling along the cakes with whipped cream swirled on top. Off to the side sits a coffee mug, something his grandpa couldn’t live without. A cup of coffee every single morning to start off his day. Adorning his grandpa’s left wrist is the golden watch, the one Hoseok finally found the strength to wear this morning. Hoseok’s grandpa brought him to this restaurant for breakfast every single time he came to visit him; some of the fondest memories Hoseok will hold in his heart forever.

Hoseok’s grandfather meant everything to him; always telling him stories, encouraging Hoseok to be the best man that he can be, sharing words of wisdom, and cheering him on with every obstacle thrown into his path. The day that his grandfather was diagnosed with cancer was the day that changed Hoseok’s life. Hoseok was applying to colleges during the time; his dream of becoming a dance teacher one day nearly dissipated until his grandfather refused to let Hoseok give everything up for the sake of his life. Though stubborn, Hoseok continued seeking out colleges while the looming process of watching his grandpa, who was once full of life, slowly withering away before his eyes.

Hoseok’s heart nearly tore into millions of shattered pieces, but there was never a night that he didn’t visit his grandpa in the hospital, sharing memories until his grandpa would drift to sleep. The night his grandfather passed, he gripped Hoseok’s hand with tears brimming his eyes.

“I am so proud of you, son,” his chin quivered, Hoseok’s face falling into a pained expression as every suppressed emotion nearly drowned him. Hoseok held onto him- sobs escaping him until his grandfather’s last breath. The family remained in the room behind him, knowing how much of an impact Hoseok’s grandfather had left on him.

It took a few years before Hoseok ever stepped foot into this restaurant again. Refused to even drive by it when visiting his parents- taking back roads to avoid any pain he tried healing from. When he first moved back into this town, after attending college nearly seven hours away, he finally found a form of strength to visit the restaurant that held the most memories. There was just one thing that he never expected.

Walking into the restaurant fresh out of college, Hoseok remembers hands in the pockets of his jacket, the smell of breakfast foods enveloping his nostrils, as the joyous conversations of people flooded his ears. When his eyes found the picture of his grandpa, he swallowed the lump in his throat, almost turning to leave, when:

“Welcome!” His eyes landed on a pair of glimmering eyes, vanishing all ounce of pain that was building within his chest. “You can sit anywhere you’d like!”

His lips parted at first, but one thing he knew, was he couldn’t take his eyes off the smiling waitress as he forced himself to walk- finding a stool at the counter.

“What can I get you today?” She beamed, pulling out a pad of paper, clicking the end of a purple pen in preparation to take his order.

“Uh,” Hoseok lost his train of thought for a moment, but the waitress waited patiently, as he scrambled to decide. Quickly, he glanced up at the picture of him and his grandpa, returning his eyes to the waitress, “I’ll have some coffee, and pancakes with chocolate syrup, please,” he smiled.

“Perfect. Coming right up!”

Hoseok watched as the waitress disappeared into the kitchen, her ponytail bouncing behind her- completely entranced by her beauty glowing from within. Even when she served him the pancakes, he thanked her, her smile never left the whole entire time he was there. As he occasionally glanced in her direction, her smile never left even for the customers occupying the rest of the spaces in the restaurant. In a way, he envied her smile, wishing he could give some light to the people surrounding him.

He came every day after that. Ordering the pancakes and coffee to start his day off before going to teach his dance classes at a high school not far down the road. One day, whenever the waitress came to check on him, he was halfway finished with his plate, “So, how is work for you today?” The question left his mouth before he could even stop himself. “Anything new?” The waitress leaned onto the counter,

“Good so far! We have a trainee coming in today for a working interview,” she said with excitement. “We’ve been needing more help around here as you know. But that’s not even the best part.”

“Oh?” Hoseok’s hands folded in front of his chin, interest in his expression.

The waitress looks ahead, her smile remaining planted on her face, “She has purple hair. I’m telling you right now her and I are going to be the best of friends.”

Hoseok couldn’t help, but chuckle at her statement, “Is that-?”

“My favorite color? Most definitely.” She glowed, soon scurrying off to check on the rest of her section.

The memory fades as M settles Hoseok’s order in front of him. “Thank you,” he says, digging into the layers. If there is one thing that Hoseok hadn’t expected when he returned to this restaurant for the first time in years,

It was that he would ever meet a ray of sunshine like you.

As two weeks pass, Monday decides to take its turn- you roll out of bed, readying for the day, getting to work early to prepare for the food truck’s arrival. Chef Seokjin typically comes to help- carrying the heavier boxes you may not be able to handle all by yourself. Once everything is stocked, the remaining workers begin to file in, clocking in for their shifts and double checking the floor to make sure everything is crystal clean.

“How are you, [Y/N]?” Jimin asks, his sweet smile reaching his eyes as he wraps an arm around your shoulders.

“I’m doing well, Chimmy Chim. How are you this fine morning?” You hug him tight, his thin waist nearly swallowed by your embrace. Jimin is like the younger brother you’ve never had since you are an only child, he seemed to fill in that space for you whenever he first started working here. Every now and then, he comes to ask for advice on how to win LenLen’s heart, one of the fellow waitresses who also greets you with a hug every Monday morning when she arrives for her shift.

“I’m doing well. Guess what? Your advice worked.” He shimmers, his fluffy, blonde hair curled along his forehead.

“Did you plan everything out?”

“Yes, I did,” he promises. “Even down to the dessert. I’ll update you on everything after the date.”

“Okay, good. Because she’s standing right behind you,” Jimin’s eyes expand into saucers as he jumps to look behind him.

“You’re rude,” he chortles, playfully nudging you to realize LenLen hasn’t arrived just yet.

“I know, but I’m the best manager in the world. You can tell my relative I said so,” you wink. As soon as opening hour comes around, hordes of elderly couples and middle-aged people flood the booths and tables, sending every worker into a whirlwind of action. Whenever it slows down a bit, M meets you behind the counter, “So, I may have lied about something,” M begins, sucking her lips in as you turn to face her.

“Oh my, where do I need to meet you to dispose of the body,”

M rolls her eyes, “Oh, shut up, I haven’t killed him.”

“Yet,” you emphasize, leaning onto the counter.

“Okay, well I almost did, but that’s not the point. You see, what happened was- Remember Yoongi’s BFFLs’ I told you about?”

“Vaguely. What about them?”

“Well, those dipwads thought it was a good idea to not correct me on their names. And Yoongi was in on it.”

“No, they didn’t,” you chuckle, your friend’s embarrassment resonating in her features. “When did they decide to break it to you?”

“Last night, when they laughed so hard, they nearly urinated.”

“Remind me of their names again?”

M ponders for a moment, “Taejo- Sorry, Taehyung and Namjoon.”

“That’s not too far off though. Is it?”

“According to them, it is,” M shrugs, “But it’s okay I’ve renamed them to something much better.” M takes a hairbow and pulls her hair into a ponytail, your ‘humor me’ look waiting as she meets your gaze.

“What are their new names?” You blurt when the anticipation starts to overwhelm you.

“Tool and Nutbread,” M says nonchalantly, looking up to see three guys waltz in, “Speak of the damn devil.”

When you turn to look, you recognize Yoongi immediately, his silver hair curly as his eyes scan around the room until they lock with M’s, a gummy smile spreads across his face. Beside him stands two, very tall fellows, one wearing a black beret, flecks of green hair poking out near his ears; the other male, a slight bit taller, his dark hair parted on top of his head. You follow M until you reach the group, Yoongi offering his hand to shake yours first.

“Yoongi, this is my best friend, [Y/N].” M introduces, Yoongi bowing slightly.

“I’ve heard a lot of good things. Nice to meet you,”

“Same to you,” you say now turning to face the other two gentlemen.

“[Y/N],” M now gestures to the one with the beret. “This right here is Tool. And, this big shot right here is, Nutbread.”

You try to stifle the cackles wanting to erupt from your throat, but you hold a wide smile as you shake each of their hands, chagrin manifesting in their expressions.

“M is never going to let us live this down, is she?” Nutbread, who you assume is Namjoon, says, his face scrunching in a cutesy smile revealing dimples on his cheeks.

“Not at all,” you admit, as you and M seat them.

“It’s okay, we’ll get her back. I happen to be a prankster on the side.” Tool, who you assume is Taehyung, says pointing a finger at M with a boxy smile.

“If that were the case, then how’d you end up with super glue in your shampoo,” M shoots back. Taehyung awkwardly runs a large hand over his hat.

“That hat’s not coming off. Is it,” you muse.

“Maybe,” he pouts.

“That’s what happens when you mess with Monnie,” Namjoon banters.

“You’re next, Nutbread.” M utters, Namjoon’s eyes widening simultaneously to the whole table erupting in boisterous laughter. Monnie… you realize, there’s only one other person who calls M, Monnie. When the ding of the doorbell sounds as it does nonstop throughout the day, you turn to see Hoseok, your breath hitching. Normally, he heads straight for his typical spot at the counter, but this time he takes a seat at a booth, his countenance grim as his eyes examine the wall holding several picture frames. You have always noticed his sweep of the walls, but you never can figure what it is he is looking for. Before you greet him, you prepare a coffee, walking to his table to set it in front of him.

“Different view today?” You ask, his brown eyes meeting yours. You take in his facial features, the shape of his eyes, how smooth his skin appears, the pink of his lips, as well as the perfect line of his jaw. He’s so handsome you nearly want to faint. Hoseok smiles at you, his loose, brown shirt complimenting a ripped pair of black jeans, and you notice on his left wrist, he’s wearing a different watch this time. “Oh wow, I really like your watch.” You compliment, the golden hues of it glistening in the sunlight protruding through the window.

“Thank you,” his smile widens even more as if it’s possible, “It was a gift.”

“Well, it’s very nice. I’ll be right back with your pancakes,” you say, waltzing into the kitchen to alert the chefs of Hoseok’s arrival. Checking on other tables, you head back to the kitchen to retrieve Hoseok’s order. Once returned to the floor, there is a hesitant halt in your step for you notice a young woman sitting across from Hoseok at his booth. Something about her is familiar. If you remember correctly, she has been here a few times before- she never orders anything when she does come, and she’s always extremely polite to every employee who happens to wait their table, but who is she? Jealousy is a funny thing, yet you suppress the subtle feeling down, trying to talk yourself into how silly you are for even worrying.

“Hello!” You greet, setting Hoseok’s pancakes onto the table. “Can I get you anything to drink?” You offer.

“Oh, no thank you! I don’t need anything,” she smiles up at you, noticing the way her tight-lipped grin and her brown eyes appear conversant to you.

“[Y/N], this is my sister, Ji Wo.” Hoseok introduces, his hand gesturing toward her, and all you can do is stifle the tremendous sigh of relief at receiving this news. Yet, you are still confused as to why you were even worried to begin with. Is it possible that… You may have feelings on the man seated before you? Is that even a prospect?

“Oh wow, I see the resemblance! It’s so nice to meet you!” You smile, her saying the same, you turning to leave the two alone since you’re uncertain how often the two get to see each other. Rounding the counter to refill some drinks, M comes up to you.

“How’s Hoseok’s sister doing?” M asks, glancing over at the booth. You look at M with furrowed eyebrows.

“How’d you know that’s his sister?”

M tilts her head, “How did you not know that’s his sister? She only comes once in a blue moon. I’ve asked Yoongi about her, but he doesn’t know much. Hoseok’s not much of a talker like he used to be.”

“Wait,” you wave a hand in the air as if to pause time, “Yoongi and Hoseok know each other?”

M stares at you blankly, “What do you mean Yoongi and Hoseok know each other? They’re roommates you, dork!”

“Oh,” you gasp when you remember M telling you about Yoongi moving in with a roommate who M also mentioned was his childhood best friend; back when she made you visit her on the night you attempted to call him for the first time after the breakup. “I didn’t know his childhood best friend was Hoseok. And, no wonder why.. I noticed Namjoon called you Monnie, which is what I’ve heard Hoseok call you before.”

“Oh yeah, Yoongi calls me Monnie, so that’s my name at my house. But anyways,” M gains her train of thought, “after Yoongi moved away they lost touch, the most they communicated was over video game headsets.”

Snickering, you shake your head, even though you feel like there’s more about Hoseok than what he’s letting on. Gazing at him, his smile still on his face as he conversates with his sister, a strange longing tugs at your heart, and it happens to be so obvious your best friend can’t help but flash a hopeful yet knowing smirk.

“You know he’s single, right?” M’s voice disperses your trance, and you whip your head around to stare at her. M raises her hands immediately in defense, “I’m just saying.” She then heads back to the floor to check on her tables, you do the same. The hour whisking by in the blink of an eye, you find yourself cleaning tables, looking over your shoulder to see the empty booth Hoseok and his sister had originally occupied. Diverting your attention, you take empty dishes to the kitchen sink trying to ignore the ache of wanting to be around Hoseok which you’ve been gradually growing used to. When you head to the main counter, you bend down to wipe at the cubbies, ridding of dust that has collected along items related to pens, paper, boxes of straws, and other pocket items waiters and waitresses can swiftly grab when able to.

The clink of something pangs the counter causing you to stand upright. To your surprise, Hoseok plants himself into the stool, his smile showing his dimples as curly strands of hair fall into his eyes.

“Welcome back,” you say, closing your mouth that happened to be ajar, “You want more pancakes? Already?” You tease, the nervous tension easing from your shoulders. Your eyes then land to what caused the clinking sound seconds ago, a mason jar holding thick, yet neatly cut folded pieces of paper are piled within it. “What’s this?” You point, your eyes meeting Hoseok’s.

“It’s a jar full of questions,” he replies, sliding the mason jar toward you. A purple string is beneath the lid and you catch a strand between your fingertips. You’re speechless. Never in your wildest dreams would you have ever imagined being gifted something so sweet. Even with… “You can draw a question or more a day if you’d like.”

“And what do I get in return?” you press, “I believe I deserve answers about what your favorite things are, correct?”

Hoseok looks at his folded hands before returning his eyes to search yours, “You do.”

“So, how about with every question I draw, we both answer,” you challenge. “I’m tired of only knowing that your favorite number is seven,”

“Okay,” he agrees, “Deal.”

With a victorious smile, you lift the lid of the mason jar, thankful not many customers are in your section for the moment. “Wait,” you pause when the sudden thought hits you, “Aren’t you going to get tired of this? Asking me so many questions?” You can’t help the curiosity, especially when you were so used to running out of things to talk about before.

“Not at all. There are always questions to ask. Even if it’s the same one every day, there’s always a ‘how are you?’ or ‘how was work today’ or even ‘did you have fun with your family today?’ I know some people don’t see it that way, but-”

“I do,” you murmur. There is always a conversation. Which is something you never realized you yearned for until now. When you hold his eyes a moment too long, you clear your throat, regaining your attention to the mason jar, carefully unfolding the first piece of paper you draw, reading the question aloud, “Who is the most inspiring person in your life?” Setting the piece of paper to the side, you take a minute to think about it, not knowing M is behind you pointing at herself- Hoseok stifling a laugh as M then turns to disappear into the kitchen. “I’d have to say, my mom.” You reply, M walking out of the kitchen just in time to hear your answer- slumping her shoulders which Hoseok catches in his peripheral vision. Oblivious to the whole situation, you just continue talking, “My mom always told me I could conquer anything if I put my mind to it.” Still looking up at the ceiling in concentration, you reiterate, “I’d have to say M, too.” M fist pumps in the air as she passes behind you once again, Hoseok completely entertained by the whole scene, finding your cluelessness about your best friend’s shenanigans cute. “She has saved me on many occasions. I don’t know what I’d do without her.” You now turn to Hoseok, “Your turn.” You demand. You watch as Hoseok joggles at the watch you complimented earlier, a sadness clouding his eyes.

“My grandfather,” he says, leaning forward, his hands so close they nearly touch yours. You wait as Hoseok swallows, gathering his words before speaking, “He used to bring me here when I was younger.” His tired smile barely reaches his eyes, “We would always get-”

“Pancakes with chocolate syrup,” you say in shock, the realization dawning on you, “That’s why-”

“Every day,” Hoseok nods, “He was my best friend. The picture of us on the wall here, it gives me strength every time I see it.”

“Hoseok, I’m so sorry,” you whisper, fighting the gesture to hold him in your arms, but you refrain from moving.

“It’s okay,” Hoseok promises, his eyes never leaving yours, “My sister gave me his watch, and coming here every day I get to remember him,” Hoseok pauses, his features suddenly becoming timid, “And every day I get to see you.”

Your heart immediately leaps at his words, and before you can respond, a group of women walk in and take a seat at a nearby table. “I’m sorry, Hoseok, hold on,” you whisper, irritation rising in you, but you repress it. Once you give the ladies their drink orders, you walk back to the counter, seeing Hoseok holding another question in his hands.

“Where is a place you have always wanted to travel to?” He reads and you can’t help but pause at the question- it catches you off guard, bringing a face you don’t want to think about to your mind.

“Ireland,” you murmur, your gaze falling to your twiddling hands, “Me and J-” You stop yourself, wincing at your almost mistake, “I’ve always wanted to go there since I was zero it feels like.”

“Why haven’t you?” Hoseok wonders, but, once again, before you can answer, another ding alerts you when an elderly man comes to sit at the counter. You quickly set the mason jar within a cubby behind the counter. “I better go. More questions tomorrow?”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Hoseok smiles, and you rush to ask what drink the customer would like, your heart slightly falling when you feel Hoseok’s presence exit the restaurant.

Time ticks away to reveal how much emptier the mason jar has become, and the more questions you answer, the more you are finally learning about Jung Hoseok. It is like you have forgotten what a broken heart feels like, and though you will never admit it internally, Hoseok has threaded every piece back together in ways that you can’t reiterate. He happens to be a dance teacher at one of the local high schools which springs the explanation of why it’s ‘practically’ his job that he sees the same faces almost every day; he went to an University seven hours away to obtain his degree, and he has had a passion for dancing his entire life and is thankful to have a job where he can teach his dream. He happens to be addicted to Sprite and has a stuffed animal that is a horse named Mang gifted to him as a child by his Grandfather. Your favorite is knowing he has a dog named Mickey and that he loves his hair being messed with when he is trying to sleep which you ridiculously find enticing, but never plan to tell him.

Laughter has been the main contributor between the two of you- sharing your most embarrassing stories, cracking jokes whenever the restaurant calms, and as the days continue to pass, your excitement to come to work every day has never been so motivating, and for the first time in a long time, you’ve been going to bed with a smile on your face.

When the final folded piece of paper is staring back at you in the mason jar, you note the relief in Hoseok’s eyes as you reach in carefully, grasping the paper between your fingertips. Dramatically, you slowly unfold it, Hoseok tapping his fingertips on the counter nervously.

“You okay?” You tease.

“Never been better,” He tilts his head, his bucket hat shading his restless eyes.

When you finally open the final question, your eyes scan it as a gasp escapes your lips- the pace of your heart quickens as you swallow anxiously, joy rising within you, “Will-” You read, “Will you go on a date with me?”

When your gaze meets Hoseok’s, his contagious smile spreads across his face, his eyes shaping into crescents, “Well, I thought you’d never ask.”

A myriad of dates leads into relishing in new memories you have developed with none other than the source of your smile- Jung Hoseok. Twirling in a daze around your apartment, Hoseok makes it to you, helping you out of your jacket and turning to hang it on the coat rack sitting next to the front door.

“Do you really have to go?” You say softly, dreading the thought of him leaving for the night.

“I know, but we both have work in the morning, and we need sleep,” he reminds you, holding his arms out to invite you in. Hoseok walks you to your apartment after every date, enveloping you in a long, warm embrace before heading home. Without an ounce of hesitation, you cuddle into his chest, his cologne caressing your nose as his arms tighten around your back. His chin rests on the top of your head and the two of you rock from side to side, so delicate, and so full of serenity.

“Maybe- Maybe I don’t want to. Slee-” The words disappear on your lips once you break away just enough to gaze up at him, his proximity so inviting, his lips parting the moment your eyes flicker toward them, the desire to cling to him and let out all your emotions for him with what you’re longing for encases your mind. You swallow as your breathing increases, nerves swallowing every part of you, and Hoseok’s eyes bore into yours, reading every inch of your soul. You’re not sure what to do as panic fills you, especially when Hoseok leans closer, reading your mind more than you’d like to profess. When his nose brushes yours, you close your eyes, a sudden flash of Jeongguk’s face triggers you, and you drop your head in astonishment. “Hoseok,” you choke, “I’m sorry, I- I’m sorry, I- I can’t- I’m not-” You can’t even talk, stammering as you run a shaky hand through your hair.

“No, no, [Y/N]. You’re fine,” Hoseok settles his hands on your forearms to calm you, “I promise.” His words are so soft, you’re shocked you heard him, “I’m going to head out. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” And with that, he gently squeezes your arms, his eyes trying to hide the sadness behind them, he then turns to walk to the door, the clicking sound of it shutting causes you to slam your eyes shut, burying your face in your hands.

“Shit,” you whisper. Regret amalgamating every fiber of your being, your muffled breaths warming your cold hands as you try to numb the pain deep in your chest. What the hell is wrong with you!? Bringing the back of your hand to your mouth, your chin quivers. You want him. You’ve been wanting him for a long time. What the hell is wrong with you!? You fucking lov-

And with that, something ignites within you. You are in love with him, Jung Hoseok, and nothing is going to tear that or him away from you. You are ready. Determination running through your veins so rapidly that you gain your composure. “Hoseok,” you whisper. “Hoseok, Hoseok wait!” You shout, throwing open the door as you stomp down the stairs faster than you thought you were capable of. “Hoseok!” You say, your eyes frantically searching for him along the darkened parking lot, “Hoseok, wait!” When your eyes find him, he pauses, turning to face you with concerned eyes and parted lips, “Hoseok!” You say as you race to him, your heart flying beneath you as tears stream down your face.

“[Y/N]? Are you-” He begins, but you don’t give him a chance. Grabbing the front of his jacket with both of your hands, you yank him to your level, crashing your lips to his, clutching onto him for dear life. It takes him a second to register what is now happening, but his kiss eases, his hands finding your cheeks as he moves his lips so effortlessly with yours. Your hands find the back of his head, stroking his hair as every ounce of love pours out of you- every memory churning- every moment Hoseok has looked at you with his beautiful smile- every jig he’s tried to dance on dates- the way his warm hands feel within yours- the way he says your name- the way he steals your heart every chance he gets- there are no words. Not one word to describe the infinity of love you have for this man capturing your soul right now. Your heart has never burst with so much elation, happiness swarming the two of you that it’s as if fireworks are igniting in the sky, exploding into numerous colors, covering the world with their soaring flecks of flame.

His kiss so passionate, you become lightheaded, the two of you pulling away just enough to stare into each other’s eyes- breathless, but you don’t care. You cup his face, with a wide smile, you whisper,

“Stay.”

There isn’t the slightest hesitation, the pair of you hardly make it up the steps, not able to veer away from the continuous kisses, not one thought of fear in someone walking outside to see the two of you lip locked in desperation as if the night is going to end too soon. His palms keep their hold upon your face, bruising your lips however long you allow him. You are not even certain how you both accomplished making it to your bedroom, but the way breaths mingle, you are ecstatic to know that Hoseok will not be going home tonight after all.

Thrusting him onto the bed, you hover above him, soaking in the sight of his messy hair and heaving chest, covering his mouth with yours once more before raking your fingers through his frizzy curls, mesmerized by the sensation of his hands sliding along your back so carefully, the thought of you developing his senses as you always have, his heart pounding in unison with yours because the happiness you bring him is showing in his every kiss, every smile, every word, every touch. He is so gentle in how he keeps your body molded to him, and the painstaking longing you feel as it grows immensely, you crave the feel of his skin.

Pulling him to sit up, you throw a leg over him into the classic straddle planting a slow kiss before yanking off his shirt, he is so dazed by your beauty, and the way you keep him so close, his eyes never leaving your nervous face as your fingertips grace along the buttons of your shirt. His breath hitches at the sight of your bra, cupping your breasts perfectly, his mouth watering with the desire to kiss the tops of them but he remains respectful. When your shirt sends a soft plop to the ground, you gradually move your hands to unclip the garment, revealing your chest in all entirely as his fingers grip at the comforter. Tilting your head seductively, you nod in permission, the tips of his fingers reaching to trace skillfully in feathery tickles, arousing you to the point you feel a warm gush within your core.

But Hoseok takes you by surprise. Placing a tepid kiss on your lips, he then kisses each corner of your mouth, hands never leaving above your bosoms, he then kisses your cheeks, so sweetly, you’re almost in awe of his reaction; he then kisses your nose, your temples, either of your closed eyelids, your forehead, to then returning another soft kiss to your tingling lips. It is as if he wants to prove that he cares more for you than just what you two are longing to finish as the night drives on, and just when you gasp into his kiss, his fingers find your nipples, the sensitive touch making the desire grow even stronger than before, your heat clenching in a need for him, and you desist from begging for him. Moaning, your tongue circles his- his kisses are so addicting you hardly can think straight. Gliding two fingers along his chest, you fumble trying to unbutton his pants and not long after he shimmies from them, you follow suit, curling your bare legs around his torso as the pair of you hold each other tightly, enthralled in the way his heated skin feels on yours, entangled frames still sharing passionate kisses, not wanting anything to end.

Enlightened by the way he spins you to cautiously laying you onto your back, his lips suck along your chest, your abdomen- kisses planted all across your skin, his frame scooting farther backwards before you feel the fresh air sweeping your vulva, his hands grabbing your thighs causing a high pitched whimper to escape your tensed frame. It has been so long since you have felt a sensation as this, and as Hoseok’s panting breaths sweep your vulva, so then follows opened mouth kisses tickling along the quivering skin enhancing the anticipation to an ultimate high as you hold your breath wishing he would dive in.

And when he does, the moans release, his tongue slowly flattening along your core before moving up and down so lovingly, you could finish now with how much he is arousing you. He picks up the pace after a minute, sloshing his tongue over and over, taking in the taste of you, not wanting to miss a drop as you whimper at the growing sense. Stopping him, you take the time to pleasure him, performing what you hope satisfies though just being with you in general is enough for Hoseok. He never dreamed that he would have a chance with you though he wished for it, and here you are, kissing him back, asking him to stay, professing your feelings even if it’s through intimacy.

Finding himself above you, bodies pressing together in the dead of night, time is no longer a concern. Nodding toward him swiftly after getting lost in his eyes, he places a devoted kiss before he brings his hand to his being, placing it at your entrance before slowly thrusting in. He moves in you, your legs tighten behind him as he smothers your mouth with more kisses, with each stroke, the power of your climax is building to its peak as you gasp his name in pleasure. His pelvic movements increase the more you plead and when the climaxes hit, your thighs tightening as the ecstasy releases, he collapses beside you, burying his nose in your neck as you gleefully intertwine your fingers with his. Completing the night with a happiness you thought you would never find again.

And waking up to Hoseok every morning henceforward, has become your new favorite thing. Especially with his arm always being laced around your waist, his gentle, slow kisses along the back of your neck. The way his eyes light up every time he so much as glimpses at you, and all you can think, as your smile never dims, is this what it’s like to be happy again? When he lingers above you after you both freshen up, his frilly hair tickles your forehead, your hands run along his bare chest, landing on his shoulders then tracing to his neck, you are so captivated with him, you forget about the world still turning outside of your bedroom walls.

Hoseok has never felt this way for anyone before, not until he met you. The first day back in the restaurant a couple years ago, he never dreamed he would ever awaken to you cuddled in his arms, longing for his embrace, and leaving traces of kisses upon his face, giggling at his jokes, wanting to learn more about him, the same as he wants to learn everything about you. His finger runs along the side of your face as he cherishes every ounce of your beauty shining from your heart out onto your glowing countenance. The words he’s been dying to say are waiting to leave him, your gaze never faltering as he inches to press a loving kiss on your lips.

“I love you,”

You’re stunned at first, the evidence is held by the way your heart skips, but you have never felt joy so astounding as it waves across your heart, your hands still placed behind his neck, you’re nearly speechless, the words close to escaping your lips-

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

“Ah, shit!” you groan, shutting the alarm clock off as the two of you hastily get ready for work. Arriving at your job lately has been filled with light teasing, and prolonged questions especially when your coworkers have noticed the change in your step, dancing around the tables, humming little ditties, snapping your fingers until you take someone’s order. Hoseok still comes to get his pancakes on a daily, the two of you remaining professional although you’d do anything not to bury the desire to smother him with kisses all over his handsome face.

One morning, after Hoseok left the restaurant to head to work, M appears by your side, slamming her crossed arms on the counter.

“He said it, didn’t he,” She accuses, her knowing grin meets her eyes. You can’t stop the smile forming on your lips, as you continue to fiddle with a bracelet Hoseok gifted you. “He did!” M gasps, pulling you into a tight hug. Your best friend has shipped this relationship since the beginning, she has proclaimed, and there is no one else you’d want to share your joy with than her. “Double date this Friday?” She beams whenever you both pull away.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you smile, pulling her into another hug.

As another month slips away into time, many days of Hoseok hugging you from behind, cornering you with sultry kisses, asking you questions you’d never think he’d come up with, gifting you with his presence in every way he can. You’ll never get tired of him, you’ll never get tired of this, you think inwardly, gripping the front of his short-sleeved, flowery shirt hanging loose on his frame.

“Oh,” Hoseok groans, “Why do you do this to me?” He smiles, stealing a quick kiss. Once he pulls away, you can’t help but tease.

“I’m not done, yet,” pulling him to your lips again, feeling his smile once you do. You fall back onto the couch, his dark green ballcap still remains on his head, as his figure tangles with yours, getting lost in your kiss as he deepens it. His warm hand grips your waist causing your shirt to rise to reveal exposed skin he then caresses as his other hand rests beside you. Hands cupping his face, your thumbs stroke his cheeks, your gasps light as he trails his lips along your neck.

When you then return to kiss him, his warmth overtaking you, a knock on the door sounds. Jolting in surprise, you raise your head with furrowed eyebrows, taking a second to register it. You both are confused since you haven’t been expecting anyone.

“Maybe it’s M,” you shrug. Hoseok and you straighten your clothes, him fixing his fluffy bangs and setting his hat straighter. Walking to the door, you unlock the deadbolt, slowly opening it to reveal who is waiting behind it. When your eyes fall upon the figure, the shock engulfing you nearly shatters your entire being, your eyes widening as the pain stabs every millimeter of your entirety.

Jeongguk, your long-lost past, stands before you, hands in his pockets, his eyes holding sorrow as he swallows panicky, trying to gather his words and failing. You can’t move, you’re frozen in place, your words robbed from you, as you feel the world turn ice cold. “Hi,” he murmurs, his brown eyes barely holding your gaze, your hands wanting to tremble as one grips the door handle, the other gripping the door frame until your fingertips are ghost white. When Hoseok notices your tense shoulders, your body rigid, concern immediately dawns on him as he steps to stand by your side.

“[Y/N]?” Hoseok says. You turn to see him, his eyes staring ahead of him to discover your ex-boyfriend whose eyes enlarge at the sight of Hoseok who reaches to rest a hand on your back to steady you. Nausea wallows in the depths of your stomach, your fingertips brush Hoseok’s free wrist, him immediately meeting your frantic eyes. As if he reads your mind, he nods once in understanding ‘I won’t be far’ his eyes read, then flickering one more intimidating look at Jeongguk before turning into the apartment. You opened up to Hoseok about the breakup, but never once did you think the past would come to haunt you, especially now that you have given your heart to someone else. Someone who deserves it. Swiftly you close the door behind you, swallowing once before looking up at Jeongguk, tears pooling in your eyes as your body trembles, the pain so overwhelming, you’re surprised you’re still standing.

Jeongguk begins softly, “[Y/N],”

“Where have you been?”

Your tone is angrier than you expect, but can you really blame yourself? He left you without a warning, leaving you feeling worthless, trying to figure out how to manage the pain without any explanation. Without any closure. Jeongguk is tense, his dark hair covers his forehead, his thin lips part as he lets out a weary sigh.

“[Y/N],” he whispers, “I’m so sorry, I-”

“You’re sorry!?” You breathe in astonishment, still fighting the tears wanting to trail continuously down your face, your arms hugging yourself tight to suppress the shivering. “Seven months without a trace, and you’re sorry!?” Your whispered voice reveals the agony, Jeongguk wincing at the pain he’s caused, shame hovering his mien. How can someone you used to admire, someone you used to shower with warm embraces, share an irrevocable love betray you in the blink of an eye? It’s something you will never understand. Everything you once adored about him has faded with time, the pain subsided, you almost forgot about him entirely, until now. “Did you not think I deserved a warning?” You question, “A conversation!?”

He stares up at the dark night, his tired eyes trying to hide the tears threatening to spill onto his jacket. “I’m sorry, [Y/N]. I didn’t know what to do. I felt stuck. I felt-”

“And you didn’t consider that maybe I needed to know that?” You raise your hand in irritation, none of what he’s saying makes any sense. “I loved you.” You choke back a sob, “I would have done anything for you. How could you just dismiss it like that didn’t mean a damn thing to you?”

“[Y/N],” Chin quivering, his hands leave his pockets reaching in your direction.

“No!” you cry, backing away from him, “Don’t touch me.” Jeongguk settles his hands to his sides, not meeting your gaze as large tears stream down his cheeks, longing to comfort you though he knows he’s lost all opportunity to do so. “Tell me why,” you wipe at the tears, preparing yourself for whatever truth he may reveal, “After three years together, tell me why.”

Jeongguk runs a hand through his hair, his wounded expression hesitant, “It was the same routine every day.” He confesses, his voice thick with repressed pain, “I felt like I was living the same day on repeat over and over again until I just- I couldn’t take it anymore.” The words cut like knives, deep into your heart, tearing at you leaving gaping wounds in their wake. Jeongguk had become bored with you. He became so bored with the life the two of you lived, that he just left it all behind to obtain whatever he thought he would find. Now it all makes sense, the nights he stopped holding you close, the empty conversations, the distance you brushed off as him needing space, it all comes back to you at once. “I didn’t know how to tell you. I wanted to see the world. I wanted to-” Words die on his tongue as he clenches his jaw, “I wanted to-”

Anger bubbles as your hands form into fists, “Hold on,” you mutter through clenched teeth, pulling the door open, stomping to the bedroom, Hoseok’s voice calling your name, pain searing through you as you thrust open the closet door, tossing things out of the way until you find it. Gripping it in your hands, you trample back to the doorway, shoving it in Jeongguk’s hands, him nearly dropping it to shatter in pieces. When he turns the jar, his mouth opens in surprise, the word Ireland stares back at him.

“What?” He breathes, his voice hardly audible.

“I was saving as much as I could for a trip to Ireland. For us! For you!” You say through clenched teeth, the anger still boiling as you try to steady your breathing. You can tell he’s alarmed, and if he thought he was abashed enough as it is, nothing tops the humiliation he feels as his eyes remain glued to the jar full of money meant for a dream the two of you could have lived together.

“I don’t- I don’t know what to say,”

“Seems like you never did,” your comment is harsh, but you stand your ground because if there is anything you will not do, is to let him think for one second, he will ever stand a chance of winning you back. “I wasn’t enough for you.” You shake your head slowly, “I see that now,” Reaching for the jar, Jeongguk hands it to you in defeat, his heart torn in so many pieces for what he’s done, he knows he will never forgive himself for what he did to you. To someone who loved him unconditionally. To someone, he wished he would have realized he had when he had you.

“[Y/N], I’m so sorry, please. Just please know that,” he whispers, his eyes pleading as your heart wrenches at his words, wishing the pain of this situation would officially heal. Your quavering hand searches for the door handle behind you, your demeanor resonating nothing but true anguish. Staring at his face, his dimples visible from his pressed lips as his chin trembles, tears reappearing in the eyes you used to get lost in, the line of his jaw you used to trace dreamily every morning when first waking up, every desire to hear his voice is gone. Disappeared forever in the past where memories of him will linger but will never be longed for. With one more stare, your body weak from the shock, you gather enough strength to let it all go. To let him go.

“Goodbye, Jeongguk,” you whisper, turning the knob to the front door, “Goodbye.”

You don’t look back, and you don’t plan to. Shutting the door behind you, your back remains against it as you squeeze your eyes shut, wanting to slip to the floor, but instead you set your Ireland jar on the ground. Your body feels so drained from all your nerves being shot that you’re not sure what else to do other than to remain frozen in place.

“[Y/N]?” Hoseok’s voice is barely a whisper. Opening your eyes, you meet Hoseok’s, his lips turned down in a devastated frown, his heart broken at the pain he sees you’re going through. With a quick pace, you walk toward him, collapsing into his arms, the wails escaping you as every tear you’ve tried to hold back stream like waterfalls down your face. You can’t find any words, just crying the hurt away, Hoseok holds you tight against his chest. When your sobs gradually cease, Hoseok notices the jar near the door, and with respect, he kept his distance from the door earlier, letting your conversation between you and your ex-boyfriend remain private. Pulling away, you follow his gaze, guilt overwhelming you because you never told him about the savings jar. Mostly since it was originally created with the idea of going with a previous partner. Now, it’s simply savings for yourself, though it will take some time for you to see it that way.

When Hoseok picks up the jar, he reads the logo in the center, shock overwhelming him. Little do you know, ever since you told him months ago that your dream was to go to Ireland, he also has been putting extra money in a savings jar with the intent on surprising you one day. Though he wants to tell you, especially with how surreal this whole situation is, he doesn’t. Between the money you saved along with his, he knows that it’s enough to cover the cost of the whole trip between you both. Inwardly, he comes up with a plan, if his job is okay with it, and possibly your job, then maybe he can continue arranging your surprise after all.

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper, hugging yourself tightly in order to find some comfort, sniffing back at the sting of tears brimming your eyes.

“Why are you apologizing?” Hoseok sets the jar on the coffee table in front of the couch, immediately pulling you into his arms. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”

Hearing his words moves you, and you cling to him, never wanting to let him go as long as you live. You’re not sure what else to say or do other than to hold him, letting his arms bring a comfort you’ve fallen in love with, his fingers stroking the line of your spine, his warm lips moving to press a tender kiss on yours. When he rests his forehead against yours, your hands hold his wrists as he cups your face, the both of you enthralled with each other without even having to use words. You pull away momentarily, just enough to stare into Hoseok’s soft, brown eyes. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” you whisper for only him to hear. When Hoseok’s eyes reveal tears, he’s tried so hard to hold back, his bottom lip trembling, you finally say the words you’ve felt within your heart ever since the night of your first kiss with him,

“Before you gave me the dandelion seeds,” Tears spill onto your cheeks, your voice wavering, “you asked me what the biggest wish I ever wished was,” you recall, the memory swarming in your mind feels as if it was lived just yesterday, “At the time, I honestly wasn’t sure. Not that I really had a second to answer you, but one thing I longed for, especially at that moment, was happiness.” You wet your lips, Hoseok’s eyes never leaving yours as he listens to your every word, “A few days after you gave the dandelions to me, I did make a wish.” You admit, a smile adorning your face, “I realized that every time you walked into those doors, I never stopped smiling. Every time you saw me, you took the chance to know me, finding a way to make me smile again and again,” you look down timidly for a moment, a sweet giggle escaping your lips, “When I made my wish, Hoseok, I wished for you,” Hoseok’s arms squeeze you closer, his face cuddling to yours as joy flies within his soul. You meet his gaze one more time,

“You are my happiness, Hoseok,” your heart soars, “And, I love you with all I am.”

Four months later…

“Hey, Hobi?” You bellow from your bedroom as you shuffle through your drawers, “I swear I put it in here,” you mutter to yourself, tossing each article of clothing out of the way to glimpse for what you’re looking for.

“Yes, [Y/Nickname]?” Hoseok’s voice calls back to you, the sound of his footsteps nearing. When he pauses at the door frame, he leans against it, an amused expression on his face as he watches you struggle, his hands slipping into his jeans’ pockets.

You briefly glare at him trying to stifle the grin wanting to tug onto your lips, “Where is my flower crop top, you know, the one I wore recently? I swear I put it in the drawer.”

“Did you check the closet?” He asks, and you pause for a moment.

“I did,” you murmur, putting your fingertips to your mouth as you begin to chew at the bottom of your lip, “I wanted to wear it again this weekend when I have a girl’s night out with LenLen and M.”

You’re in your work uniform in preparation to leave in the next ten minutes, and you’re nearly driving yourself mad by not being able to find your current favorite top.

“Did you check the laundry? The washer?” Hoseok questions, you are nodding in reply.

Raking a hand through your hair, you heave a heavy sigh, “I’m just gonna go make some toast real quick. I’ll just look for it tonight,” You notice in your peripheral vision, Hoseok chuckling to himself, but you brush it off, throwing some toast into the toaster. After a minute, it’s ready and you set it on a plate spreading some of your favorite jam along the crusty slice. When warm arms encompass you from behind, you nearly melt, leaning your head back as Hoseok plants a warm kiss on the side of your neck. “I loathe you,” you joke, your smile so wide, butterflies tickle your tummy, you turn enough to steal a quick kiss, letting the sensation of his lips linger. When you desire for one more, instead you’re greeted with a likewise smile,

“I didn’t know people like to kiss somebody they despise,”

“Oh,” you playfully slap his shoulder, returning to the toast you’re eager to stuff your face with. “I need to leave for work.” You state, taking a large bite from your breakfast.

“No, you don’t,” Hoseok’s words catch you by surprise as you turn fully to face him, the toast still in your mouth for your second bite. A few strands of loose hair fall into your face.

“I wish,” you groan, taking a third bite of the toast, “But, ya girl’s gotta make a living somehow.” You shrug, turning back around to unplug the appliance.

There’s a pause for a moment, your gorgeous boyfriend eyeing you, his dark, fluffy hair close to covering his soft eyes. “What if-” He begins, inching closer to you, “What if I were to tell you that you really don’t have to go to work today?” Slowly, you turn to face him once again, staring at him in confusion, “I’m serious, what if I were to tell you that for the next two weeks you will be off work? Too far away to be available for them to call you in?”

Eyeing him suspiciously, you cross your arms, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips, “Well, it’s Monday, don’t you have to work?” You counter, your toast mostly devoured at this point. When Hoseok chuckles, you playfully scoff, rolling your eyes, “You’re so full of it.”

You nudge your shoulder to him as you brush past, reaching for your purse and car keys, preparing to walk out the front door.

“You really don’t have to go to work today,” Hoseok, still laughing, you whirl around to face him, your hands landing on your hips in humored irritation. “Or, for the next two weeks if I’m being precise.”

“Jung Hoseok,” you huff, “if you do not tell me what the hell is going on, I will knock you into yesterday so fast-”

“Whoa, whoa,” he holds his hands out in mock defense, he’s still laughing it takes him a moment before he continues, “I mean you can totally do that if you’d like, but I would hate for the second ticket to Ireland to go to waste.”

What. Did he just say?

Your limbs are limp, freezing in place, your jaw drops, your eyes widen, tears of shock pooling along your eyelids, “What?” You breathe, your purse falling from your arm as well as your keys from your numb fingers. “Did you just say?” Hoseok nods, your heart hammering beneath you as you gaze at the love of your life standing before you with his never-ending smile.

“You’re not going to work for the next two weeks because you will be in Ireland,” his words are loving as he speaks, “With me.”

“You mean it?” Your voice comes out in an excited choke as adrenaline rushes through your veins. “Hoseok, do you mean it? Is this for real!?”

“I mean it, [Y/N]. One hundred percent,” And with that, you sprint to him, jumping into his arms, he lifts you up, spinning you around multiple times, tears streaming down your face in pure happiness.

“WE’RE GOING TO IRELAND!” You shout, him setting you down, the two of you enveloped in each other’s arms, swaying side to side as you cry into his shoulder. A dream you have dreamed for so long is finally coming true all because of the man standing right before you. Gasping, you pull away,

“I need to pack!” You freak, your fingers gripping his biceps absentmindedly.

“Already done,” Hoseok chirps, his eyes dancing when you meet his gaze with furrowed eyebrows.

“What about M and LenLen?”

“Were in on it the whole time,” He winks.

“What?”

“I already packed our bags,” He muses, “The top you’re missing? Amongst many other articles of clothing I managed to sneak past you, are awaiting in packed bags in the trunk of my car.” You stare at him in amazement, so speechless you’re not even sure if you’re comprehending what he’s saying by the shock overpowering your mind. “Also, LenLen and Monnie planned that trip to distract you from becoming suspicious,” Hoseok pinches your chin with his fingertips, “Oh,” He says, “Our flight leaves in less than three hours, so I don’t know about you, but I think we should get going.”

“Well,” You breathe, “What are you waiting for, slowpoke!? Let’s go!” You grab his hand, dragging him headfirst through the front door, locking it behind the two of you as you both jog to his car, his laugh echoing in the air- the both of you are ecstatic for the journey ahead. Once the two of you arrive at the airport, you both figure out luggage and board the plane, Hoseok lets you sit at the window, your eyes gazing at the land below you, your fingers intertwined with his, basking in the scenery you never dreamed you’d finally see.

As your eyes remain outside the window, Hoseok’s eyes remain on you as he falls in love with you all over again- watching you stare at the earth below in astonishment, every now and then nudging him to peek outside at whatever captured your vision. Unbeknownst to you, he has so much more in store. He planned this trip from beginning to end, and though nervous jitters surround his heart, there is nowhere else he’d rather be, than right by your side,

holding your hand until the end of time.

Greenery sways in the wind, the deep green losing its glisten as the sun sets ahead, the cattle spread across the field grazing among the grass, the purple and orange hues reflecting in the sky as a gentle, warm breeze wisps through your hair. Hoseok closes his eyes, his chin pointed upward enjoying the feel of it all the same as you are, the land so immense it’s as though the few dirt paths never end. His fingers are interlaced with yours, a mason jar on the center of the table- previously refilled with numerous questions he had yet to ask you- two freshly picked dandelions lay on the other side of the jar, the deep gold of the petals vibrant, their fragrance meeting your nose as you inhale the sweet scent. Ireland. A land you’ve longed to tread for so many years, and here you are, sitting in the country, basking in the scenery encompassing the two of you.

“There’s one more question left,” Hoseok speaks, a loving grin forming on his pink lips when your dreamy gaze meets his.

“I know,” you whisper, him squeezing your hand. Staring at the final piece of folded paper at the bottom of the mason jar, with your free hand, you reach into it, noticing it is held down by one small piece of tape. That’s funny, you wonder, scraping at the corner of the tape as tediously as you can. Struggling, you hardly notice Hoseok rising to his feet, scooting off to side out of your peripherals, his fingers leaving yours momentarily to adjust at his shirt collar. Once the tape loosens just enough to remove from the bottom of the jar, you bring the folded paper closer to you, using both hands to carefully unfold it.

The second you register the words staring back at you, tears brim your eyes as a gasp escapes your lips, bringing your fingertips to your mouth, your gaze turns to land upon Hoseok, kneeled before you, tears welling in his own eyes as his lips tremble, reaching into his pocket to reveal a small, black velvet box, your heart pounding within your chest as you let out a breathy cry.

“[Y/N],” Hoseok begins, your fingers covering beneath your eyes as you wipe every tear that pours. “When I first met you, there was something about you that made me want to know you more and more every day.

Maybe it’s the way you smiled at me every morning when I arrived at the restaurant. Or, the way your eyes lit up the moment you greeted someone at every table. Or, your cheery voice when you’re around your friends and family. Or, the way you stay strong despite what is thrown at you.

But what really got me, what really inspired me, is the way that you see the world.” You gaze at the man before you, getting lost in his brown eyes, your heart soaring with his every word,

“Wishes instead of weeds. Something that is seen to be negative, you see as the most beautiful source to decorate the earth. Something that you can wish on to bring positivity. To bring hope.” Hoseok pauses, a tear streaming down his face, “I knew when I met you that you were someone special. But, that day, that day particularly, I knew right then that I wanted you in my life regardless.” Hoseok wets his lips, as another tear spills on his cheek, “Forever,” he breathes, “[Y/N]?” He opens the velvet box exposing a beautiful, shimmering diamond ring, “Will you make my biggest wish I’ve ever wished come true, and marry me?”

When your wide smile adorns your face, an excited gasp leaves your lips,

“I thought you’d never ask!”

152 notes · View notes

kyuuppi · 4 years

Text

Bad Day

Pairing: Orihara Izaya x Reader

Genre: hurt/comfort, mild fluff

Word Count: 2.3k

Everyone has a bad day eventually.

In the fast-paced style of Ikebukuro, a city known for its stretches of high rise office buildings where corrupt politicians and businessmen appear to rule by day but a variety of notorious street gangs reign by nightfall, turbulence is almost expected. Whether it be a rainy day without an umbrella or a run in with an angry blond bartender with superhuman strength, there are a multitude of unfortunate events that could occur in Ikebukuro to minorly inconvenience and sour your day.

The problem is when they all happen at once.

What has become possibly the worst day of your life began the night before. The apartment above yours happens to house a group of rowdy college boys who deemed Wednesday night an appropriate time for a party. The constant booms of a heavy bass speaker accented with the occasional slurred yelling ensured a night of restlessness for you and it was not until well after 3am that you finally fell asleep—which incidentally led to you sleeping through your 7am alarm for work. Despite arriving less than ten minutes late—your first time arriving late for work ever—your team manager gave you an earful about the importance of maintaining “a good work ethic” in front of half of your coworkers. Naturally, you were irritated. However, as a generally cheerful and optimistic person, you figured the worst was over and promised to treat yourself to a nice lunch to make up for it...

...until your designated lunchtime rolled around and you found yourself standing in the lobby staring out at the torrents of rain crashing down from the sky.

You didn’t have an umbrella.

After choosing between ending up soaked or starving for the next five hours of work, you stood at the cash register of the nearest convenience store, drenched head to toe with a sandwich and bottled water in hand.

That was when you realized you’d forgotten your wallet in the office.

By the end of the day you were left exhausted, hungry, and with a throbbing headache that left your eyes stinging with suppressed tears as your trudged home, shuffling around leftover rain puddles.

At a crosswalk you were forced to pause as the pedestrian light turned red to let cars pass. Despite being in the middle of the business district on a Thursday evening there were not many other people around. You suspected it had to do with the rain earlier.

To pass time you pulled your cell phone out of your purse and proceeded to check your notifications. There were a few standard messages—one new follower on Instagram, a reblog of one of your posts on Tumblr, your family asking if you’d be coming home for Christmas this year—but there was also a text message sent from a person that had your heart shamelessly skipping a beat.

New Message From: Orihara Izaya

The name alone affects you to an unhealthy degree but, honestly, you’re far from the only one. Izaya is the most dangerous man in Ikebukuro, as an information broker there is not a thing about the city he does not know. Every person, every interaction, every dirty deed—he knows it all. If you didn’t know any better you’d suspect he could quite literally read minds.

Your suspicion was for good reason—when you first moved to Ikebukuro from your small town six months ago you had immediately become a subject of Izaya’s tormenting. From day one he had hired people to follow you, watching your every move without your knowledge and throwing you into mildly traumatizing situations until you felt you were at your breaking point...except you never broke. No matter how many horrible things happened to you, no matter how many nights you spent crying yourself to sleep, you always greeted the next day with a smile. Eventually, realizing you would not be as easy to manipulate as many of his other “precious humans,” he decided to meet with you personally and from there your relationship with each other shifted from bully and victim into...something else.

You were startled out of your thoughts by the melodic beeping of the pedestrian light, signaling it was safe to cross the street now. Stepping off the sidewalk and into the road you look back down at your phone, just about to unlock the screen when you hear the loud screeching of rubber followed by a horrified shout of “WATCH OUT!” You looked up just in time to see a black car skidding full speed right towards you.

You froze, like a deer caught in headlights, as the car got closer and closer until you could make out the terrified features of the driver, equally as helpless to stop the vehicle as you were. You hadn’t even been able to process the thought that you might die yet when a strong pair of arms wrapped around your waist and hauled you just a few paces to the left and out of harm's way as the car swerved to the right and crashed into a light pole.

Your gaze snapped away from the car to the body behind you and found Heiwajima Shizuo, decked out in his usual dark shades and bartending uniform, his arms still wrapped protectively around your waist. He was panting, having obviously run over to save you as you had not seen him anywhere nearby before.

“You okay?” he asked as he let you go, eyes never once leaving the now smoking car a few feet away from you two. Despite your relationship with his least favorite person in the universe, the two of you got along well enough and he seemed to respect you as an unexpectedly kind person among a city of darkness and sin.

You barely managed to stutter out an affirmative before he left your side in favor of approaching the driver—who miraculously seemed to still be alive albeit panicked at an obviously seething Shizuo’s appearance, leaving you to wonder if the driver had been trying to escape the hot-headed blond when he ran the red light. The stacks of money you think you can see in the backseat along with the distant sound of approaching police sirens only further validate your assumptions and you quickly pick up your fallen purse to make a break for it before you get caught up in another dangerous situation.

As you crouch down for the black leather strap of your purse you find your expensive new cell phone right beside it, broken into a million pieces of glass and metal.

…

By the time you reach the door of your apartment there are hot tears rolling down your cheeks and it takes all of your remaining energy to unlock the door through blurred vision. As you stumble through the threshold, weakly pushing the door behind yourself and dropping your purse, the idea of collapsing onto your bed and completely disappearing from the world for the rest of the night is the only thing keeping you sane.

But of course, you’re not afforded even that simple luxury as, before you can make it to the bed situated in the corner of your cramped studio, a shadowy figure exits the kitchen and makes himself known.

“My, my,” he lilts, “someone doesn’t look too happy.”

You hate that regardless of how exhausted you are, the familiar voice sends shivers down your spine and seems to awaken something deep within your gut that resembles the butterflies you heard about in all those Disney romance movies.

Except Izaya was more the sadistic evil villain than the dashing prince charming.

You swiftly rub at your face, as if it wasn’t already blaringly obvious that you had been crying. Sniffling, you force your lips into the weakest smile in history as you face the smug man casually leaning against the counter.

“H-hey, Izaya,” you murmur.

He gazes at you for a few moments, expression unreadable as his eyes dance around your nervous form. You feel awkward and bare, as if he was able to see things about you that even you yourself couldn’t see. You’re just about to speak again, likely a string of nonsensical small talk just for the sake of breaking the tension, when Izaya beats you to it. He uses one foot to push himself off of the counter and take the four steps required to stand right in front of you, his brownish-red eyes glinting almost mysteriously in the street lights outside of the window.

For a moment you feel as if you are under a spell, held captive under the unwavering stare of a man who, despite physically being less than an arm’s length away, seems to be far beyond the reach of any human being, let alone a simple girl like yourself.

He smirks and it sends your heart racing.

“Your mascara is running.”

An embarrassingly loud sob escapes your lips before you’re diving head-first into his chest, wrapping your arms around his slim waist as cries wrack your frame. His words were far from sweet or comforting, and certainly not an invitation for a hug, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. He is dangerous, you think. No matter what he said or did to you, you have a feeling you would always come running back into his arms. The man who hurt you the most in the beginning was now the person who made you feel the most secure.

Izaya chuckles before one hand comes up to smooth your undoubtedly ruffled, damp hair while the other remains deep in the pocket of his fur-trimmed parka. It was always like this. In the six months you’ve known him, the last three of which you could maybe consider you two “dating” (or as close to dating as Izaya would ever get), he never initiated any physical contact. If you wanted physical affection you had to muster up the courage to act on it yourself, whether it be hugging, kissing, or even holding hands. He never initiated but he also never rejected your advances. He would return your actions, oftentimes with a teasing remark about how desperate you must be or how irresistible you must find him. He was always right.

You find peace in the steady thumps of his heartbeat and the gentle fingers carding through your hair until your sobs have finally calmed down into shallow breathing and your headache no longer feels like jackhammer in your brain. Your eyes are just beginning to droop when he pulls back, making you whine pathetically in protest.

“Oh dear, you’re being awfully needy today,” he taunts as he steps back.

However, instead of leaving like you expect, he grabs your forearms in each hand, walking you forwards until the two of you reach your bed. He lets go of you to push the small mountain of rumpled blankets to the side (you had left your bed unmade this morning when you were running late for work) before gently but firmly forcing you to sit on the mattress.

“I believe it’s way past someone’s bedtime. Wouldn’t want to be late for work again tomorrow, hm~?”

You glance at the alarm clock on your bedside. It is nearly two hours before the time you usually go to bed, and you know Izaya is aware of that as well, but you don’t question it. Instead you savor the rare care Izaya seems to be showing you tonight and lie down properly, trying to hold back a giddy grin when he covers you in the blankets like a child.

He straightens up once you’re properly tucked in and moves to step away again but your hands shoot out to grab the hem of his jacket without thinking. He raises a brow in silent question, his unnerving smirk still in place. Your cheeks immediately heat up, silently cursing yourself at your impulsiveness. No going back now.

“Um...can you, uh...stay with me tonight?” you ask weakly, unable to maintain eye contact.

He merely chuckles, easily escaping your weak grasp.

“As much as I would love to keep my little human company tonight, I have some work to do.”

You don’t bother asking what he means by “work’; you already know. At a time like this it almost certainly has something to do with one of the many illegal gangs and drug cartels that run the streets of Ikebukuro during nighttime. You vaguely remember hearing reports on the news recently of a well-known CEO under investigation for money laundering and his connections with a major gang. If the public was just now finding out you know Izaya has known the intricate details for months or is possibly even directly involved in the operation as a catalyst. It was not uncommon for Izaya to stir up trouble among high-profile politicians and businessmen for fun.

You can only wordlessly pout as you watch him slip away and out of your apartment just as suddenly as he had appeared. You succumb to sleep before the door even shuts.

…

The next morning you awaken before your alarm, feeling much more refreshed and alive than you’d felt in a long time. You go about your morning routine as usual but with a visible pep to your step. As you get dressed you contemplate visiting a cafe for breakfast before work with your extra time. Maybe you’ll order the strawberry pancakes, or the blueberry scones...perhaps even both.

It isn’t until you walk into the sitting area to retrieve the purse you had left on the floor last night that you see the object sitting on your coffee table. As you approach you gasp at the realization of what it is: a brand new cellphone—the same model as the one that had been destroyed last night. When hesitant hands you pick it up and watch as the screen comes to life, displaying a single text message that brings a bright smile to your face.

New Message From: Orihara Izaya

>You really need to be more careful next time, y/n-chan~

#Izaya x reader #Orihara Izaya x reader #durarara imagine #orihara izaya #anime imagine #izaya imagine #reader insert #fanfic #durarara fic #izaya fic

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ddaenqu · 5 years

Text

Breathe

pairing: yandere!kim taehyung x reader

themes: fluff, angst

warnings: obsessive behavior, possessive behavior, toxic behavior/relationship, stockholm syndrome, panic attack/mental breakdown, mentions of manipulation/hinted manipulation. y’all this is a YANDERE AU for a reason, don’t read if ya don’t like.

It was the first time in a while that Taehyung had even let you mention the outside, furthermore asking to go out. You were expecting a harsh “no” and a grumpy Taehyung for the rest of the day.

The last time you had mentioned going out, pleading to just go out with some friends, all girls, you added. But he paid no mind to them or you. A fist full of your hair had you forcibly pulled into the direction of your shared bedroom where the black restraints sat, resting against the wooden backboard.

It was probably more than a few days until he finally let you out, you weren’t very sure; he never allowed for you to check the time or date during it all. After, he immediately set a firm rule to never mention anyone or anything that wasn’t him.

The feeling of the rough fabric is still burned into your mind, often finding yourself looking down at your wrists and expecting a dark ring of purples and pink lines dyed into your skin.

But it was supposed to help you. Taehyung had made sure you understood that isolating you was to keep you away from trouble, away from pain, and away from others who wanted to see you fall—to see your relationship fall.

You took his word for it. Believing every single thing he said with a feverish nod from you part. You just didn’t want to be in that room any longer.

It’s only been a few months since then. You tried to fulfill his needs as he always did to yours. His rough and forced kisses became soft and gentle within days, his features were more bright everytime he saw you once he came home from work, as if a younger version of himself had manifested itself in his own body.

It made you swell with love, but also with longing. You wanted to go outside like you used to, with Taehyung’s permission, of course. You wanted to breathe—just a little more.

You knew it was unlikely for him to ever agree to the idea, but when he immediately replied with a positive hum—a hum of approval—you thought your heart dropped for a second.

He smiled fondly, pushing his head further into the crook of your neck, you can feel him inhale into your skin before peppering soft kisses along your collarbone.

“Wait—I,” you stumble over your words, your hand stopping from threading through his gray locks. “You—I can?” you ask excitedly and he finally pulls away from your neck with a crooked gaze.

“Why can’t you?” he says and his eyes flicker with curiosity, his head tilting to the side as he studies your expression. “You’ve been good, haven’t you?” He gives you his boxy-like smile before kissing your cheek, and his hands find your waist within seconds.

“Its only fair,” he breathes, his mint breath hitting against your face as his little pecks seem to linger on your cheek and forehead. “Just be careful.”

Walking towards your apartment complex with a few grocery bags in one hand, your other hand fiddling with the little device. Texting Taehyung, of course, announcing that you would be home in a few minutes since the complex wasn’t that far. You immediately receive a reply, an unhealthy amount of heart emojis present, but it made you swoon anyway. You tuck your phone into your pocket and continue your excursion back home.

It was a nice walk. A cold breeze hitting your face every so often, occasionally someone would pass and you couldn’t help but stare. They looked so carefree, like nothing bothered them in the world. They looked free.

It made you think of Taehyung.

A thought—only a thought, something suggestive—a feeling. It was a ridiculous thought, though.

Taehyung loves you, right? Keeping you inside was for your own good. You were always a mess before; always choosing work over socializing, destroying yourself with stress eating, and forming unproductive habits. You parents, by that time, worried for your health and relationships, chose to take things into their own hands. Taehyung had saved you from that. Right?

You stare down at the floor as you walk, your thoughts are clouded with doubt and hope, remembering how dating was like before Taehyung. You don’t remember much, maybe some handholding? A kiss here and there?

Small movement in the corner of your eye puts your brain to an immediate halt. Curious, you turn your head and meet the green beady eyes of a black cat sitting still on the cement walkway, it’s tail moving languidly side to side.

From what you can remember, Taehyung wasn’t very fond of pets, liked looking at them, but wouldn’t dream of owning one. Something about the amount of responsibility and attention it goes toward the thing. However, you’ve always loved animals. Maybe not as much the wild ones compared to domestic, but loved them nonetheless.

“You’re such a pretty thing,” you coo and begin to maneuver yourself to where you could pet the cat without dropping every item you were holding, opting for an awkward squat-like position.

Maybe, you think, he’ll let you get a small pet if you persuade him good enough.

Your hand reaches out to pet the cat, the cat stopping from licking its paws to silent hissing. The hostility makes you pause, your hand seconds away from touching its ears. Then, you feel the sharp, searing pain, something digging into your flesh and ripping it apart. You yelp, your body reacts before your brain could and removes yourself from the object of the pain: the kitty.

It gave one more hiss, it’s hair standing on edge and it’s tail pointed up, you could see your reflection through its glossy eyes. All at once, the cat made a dash towards the opposite direction of your destination, and ultimately scaring any passerby’s.

You sit there on the floor with a pounding heart, your eyes frozen on the spot the cat had scratched, or rather gashed. You felt tired, everything in your body was numb except your hand, your hand was hot, unbearably hot that the cold air couldn’t impenetrate it.

It hurts. Your heart feels like it’s about to beat out of your chest, hammering against your rib cages while your throat feels dry—tight.

You can’t breathe, like the air has been knocked out of you.

The groceries on the floor next to you; the vegetables, the fruits, the bread, even the small carton of milk are all splayed against the floor. But that doesn’t go through your head first.

Taehyung.

You reach into your back pocket and pull out your phone, the screen of your phone is shaking, the notifications are shown in a blurred fashion and with your screaming headache, you can barely read a thing. You assume that you must’ve broken it somehow when you fell back—until you saw your arm, and then your hand, and then your quivering fingers hovering over the bright screen.

You shouldn’t have gone out. You shouldn’t have even asked. God—you felt so fucking stupid. You let out a small cry, feeling eyes on your back, but no one or nothing coming to you. You felt helpless.

Your hand is strained as it tries to click on Taehyung’s number frantically.

Taehyung was right, he was right about everything. You should’ve just followed him. He was trying to protect you from this.

On the third ring, a rare occurrence whenever you called, a sultry voice answered, unbothered of anything.

“Did you get lost on the way back, hm?” he teases.

“Taehyung,” you gasp in pain, reeling forward in your position to where your head was almost in between your knees, the cut in your hand was bleeding by now, but you didn’t care. You needed Taehyung and only Taehyung.

You hear shuffling and then the sound of keys jingling, a discomforting sound to your ears making you keen more in pain.

“Baby? Where are you?” he grunts out and you feel his anxiety through the phone, you hear a door slam shut in the background. “Tell me.”

“Hurts,” you whimper in a soft voice.

“I know, love, but you need to tell me where you are.”

“Near,” you begin as the world around you spins, “I was—was walking from the store.”

“Okay, I’m coming,” he says. “Breathe, I’ll be there in a second, love.” And then the call ends.

Placing your phone into the pocket of your jacket, you sit there with your knees tucked and your head in between. Anyone looking must’ve thought you were crazy by now, and you didn’t care.

Taehyung is coming, you remind yourself and a part of you feels relieved.

And yet, the other part feels rooted to the ground, already accommodating the aching pain from the cut. You don’t want to move—or go anywhere. You’re happy Taehyung is coming, but you don’t want to go to him, in that house.

A few minutes later, you feel the consistent tapping of shoes against the pavement. You look up and meet the eyes of your loving, adoring boyfriend, his eyes are dull and his smile is stretched a bit too wide for a comforting expression. He’s standing over you with ragged breathing, a flushed face.

“Found you,” he says and he helps pull you up from your sitting position, catching a glimpse of the cut on your arm. He inspects it silently, his face has no expression.

“See? What did I tell you,” he sighs and picks up the groceries off the ground. “Let’s go.”

His hand is entangled with yours, his grip is suffocating—but you feel it, how sweaty his palms are and the slightest hint of a tremor when he tightens his hold.

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capfalcon · 5 years

Text

destined

(stevetony AU. commission for my darling @stevetvny.)

Tony doesn’t even want to go to the party. The idea of dressing up just to go to a work party feels dumb and stupid and like a complete waste of his time. But because Tony is a good friend, and because Rhodey won the game or rock paper scissors, here Tony is, at said work party, dressed up, despite the fact that everyone here is too drunk to care, or to even notice.

“I am so bored,” he whines, leaning his head against Rhodey’s shoulder. “Why the hell are you here anyway?”

Rhodey huffs a little and sets down his glass before Tony can knock it over. “Because I got promoted, Tony? Ring a bell?”

Tony rolls his eyes and shuffles a little on his feet. “Yes, yes you did, and I’m very proud of you, sugar bear, but why do I have to be here?”

“Because if I’m going to be miserable for tonight, so are you. It’s only fair,” Rhodey says, and Tony doesn’t even have to see him to know that he’s smirking.

“You’re a menace,” Tony grumbles, and Rhodey shakes his head.

“Love you too, Tony.”

Tony huffs again and stands up, looking around the room. “Open bar, right?” he asks Rhodey, grabbing his glass.

Rhodey tilts his head and shrugs one shoulder. “Yeah, but if you get wasted, I’m not carrying your drunk ass back to your apartment.”

Tony smirks and walks off to the bar, weaving through the crowd, various people in different stages of sobriety. He finally manages to make it to the bar, and he leans against the counter, setting down his glass and gesturing for another one.

The bartender gives him a quick once over and then sets about pouring Tony’s drink, so Tony takes the chance to survey the room. Maybe the night doesn’t have to be a complete disaster. After all, a lot of Rhodey’s coworkers are pretty and attractive, so maybe Tony can make some good come out of this.

He’s scanning the room, looking for viable candidates when the bartender taps him on the shoulder and slides his drink in front of him.

“If I were you, I’d be looking to your right,” she says, and Tony swivels his head to see who she’s talking about.

It takes a little while to see him, but once he does, Tony nearly chokes on his goddamn drink.

What the fuck? he thinks, coughing.

It’s not that the stranger is absurdly hot or something, although he is, it’s the fact that said stranger is Steve Rogers.

Steve Rogers as in, Tony’s former arch-nemesis, his most hated person in the world, Steve Rogers.

Fuck, Tony thinks, looking him up and down. Jesus fuck. What the hell, universe? There is no way in hell that should be fair.

Rogers is leaning against the bar, smiling at Tony, as if this is the most natural thing in the world. When Tony finally stops coughing, and when he’s grabbed his drink, he manages to walk over to him, standing next to him.

“Been a while,” he says, purposefully looking at anything that isn’t Steve, because goddamn, Tony might actually melt. Steve had been attractive in high school, but he’d been so sickly, so fragile and otherwise unhealthy that Tony had never really paid much attention to that part of him.

But now, there’s no denying the confidence in which he holds himself, all broad shoulders and muscles, smiling down at Tony. It’s almost enough to make Tony choke again, the way Steve’s biceps are fighting the shirt he’s wearing.

“It has,” Steve says in a soft tone, and damn, was his voice always so low and sultry, because Tony thinks he’d remember that.

“How you been?” Tony asks, trying to ignore the giant red warning signs going off in his brain.

“Good,” Steve replies, turning so that he can look Tony in the eyes. “You?”

Tony shrugs a shoulder. “You know, here and there.”

Steve smiles a little wider, almost a laugh, and Tony wants to choke him, he really does, because how is that even fair? You’re making it really hard to keep hating you, Tony thinks, knocking the rest of his drink back a little viciously.

“So, why are you here?” Steve asks, and Tony blinks himself back to the present.

Tony turns his head, looking for Rhodey, and then points when he finds him. “I’m here because Rhodey, the absolute bastard, made me come. This isn’t even my work party. I’m his plus one, which is funny, because he really has a crush on some girl in HR, I think her name’s Carol?”

“Carol’s nice,” Steve says thoughtfully. “She was Air Force.”

Tony tilts his head and considers that thought. “Rhodey never told me. Interesting.”

“You always were joined at the hip.”

“Excuse me?”

“Rhodes,” Steve says, tilting his head at him. “In high school. You guys did practically everything together.”

“Yeah,” Tony says, shrugging. “Look what that got me. At a work party that isn’t even mine, talking to the guy who used to hate my guts in high school.”

Steve’s smile drops right off his face, and it twists into something unpleasant, pained and regretful.

“Tony,” he starts, “About that.”

“-No, no,” Tony says, waving a hand. “The past is past, right Rogers? I agree to move on, you do too? Besides, why did we even hate each other? Some dumb reason, I’m sure. So let’s move on, I forgive you, I’m sorry, all that other bullshit. Sound good?”

Steve blinks at him slowly, processing the word vomit Tony’s just spewed out. “No,” he finally says, and Tony feels his heart stop.

“What do you mean no?”

“No. I was a jerk to you without a reason, and I’m sorry. That was on me.”

And jesus, what’s Tony supposed to say to that? Thank you?

“Cool,” he finally settles on, and he wants to slap himself. “I mean-I’m sorry too. I don’t know why I hated you.”

Except I do, he thinks, in the privacy of his own head. You were always so fucking perfect, all the time. And the way you looked at me. It was like I feel ants crawling under my skin. I could never tell if I wanted to hit you or kiss you.

And then suddenly, because Tony’s dumb and impulsive and a little bit self-sacrificing, he claps his hands together and pushes himself away from the bar.

“Great,” he says, smiling at Steve, “Now that we’ve gotten the unpleasantries out of the way, why don’t we blow this popsicle stand? Not that I’m not loving the whole, depressed, mid-life crisis vibe in here, but it’s kinda harshing my mellow, if you feel me?”

Steve quirks his lips at Tony, and shakes his head, smiling. “Okay,” he says, slowly, “But this isn’t going to be like that one time in high school where you ran through the hallways wearing a pink, glittery leotard, is it?”

Tony’s mouth drops open and he shakes a finger at Steve. “God,” he says, speechless, “That’s slander, and I don’t appreciate it, Rogers.”

Steve laughs a little, and Tony finds himself basking in the sound, its warmth and comfort, as if it’s such a natural thing, for Steve Rogers to be laughing at a joke Tony’s made.

“Where do you want to go?” Steve asks, pushing the door open for Tony, and god if that doesn’t make him swoon, just the slightest bit.

“I know this great burger joint,” Tony offers, and Steve nods, following Tony out the door.

“Okay,” Steve replies, soft, and his eyes are strange as they meet Tony’s, unguarded and watchful, as if he’s contemplating something.

They end up getting burgers at a place across the street, and as Steve dips a french fry into his milkshake and then looks up at Tony, eyes lit up with amusement, Tony feels the same way he used to in high school, back when they’d been dumb kids, and sworn enemies.

“So,” Steve asks, sliding the basket of fries over to Tony, his tone teasing, “How come you’re being so nice to me all of a sudden? Is it the muscles?”

Tony chokes on his coke and proceeds to have an intense coughing fit before he can meet Steve’s eyes again.

“That’s the second time tonight, Rogers,” he says, shaking his head, “You’re bad for my health.”

“Aww,” Steve says, his eyes bright, “You’re not the first person that’s told me that, although I am flattered.”

And that makes Tony blush, genuinely blush, before he can speak again.

“No,” he finally says, meeting Steve’s eyes, “It’s not the muscles.”

“Oh?” Steve asks, intrigued. “What is it then? Because if I’m being real, I kind of thought it was.”

“No!” Tony blurts out, too quickly for his liking. “I didn’t pick on you during high school because of how you looked, Steve, jeez, I’m an asshole, but I’m not a complete dick, at least, I hope not. I picked on you because I was confused and you were always so fucking perfect all the time, and also, not to mention, I was slightly completely infatuated with you.”

Steve pauses, a french fry half way towards his mouth, and then his eyes widen.

“Wait,” he says, “What?”

Tony tilts his head and sighs. “Really, Rogers? You want me to repeat it?”

“I just want to make sure I heard you right.”

“You’re a complete dick, and I hate you.”

“Really?” Steve asks, leaning forward. “Because I don’t think that’s what you said. Something more along the lines of infatuation?”

Tony grins and rolls his eyes, reaching a hand out to swat at Steve. “You’re terrible.”

“Yeah,” Steve replies, grinning at Tony over his milkshake, “But you like it.”

“Doubtful,” Tony says, raising an eyebrow.

“You’re full of shit, Stark,” Steve retorts, but there’s no heat behind it.

Tony grins back, and they finish their fries, smiling stupid wide grins at each other from across the table. Eventually, the store closes, and they wind up outside, leaning against the hood of Steve’s car.

“I liked you too,” Steve says, soft and quiet while looking up at the sky.

“Sorry, what was that?” Tony teases, and Steve huffs, elbowing Tony in the side.

“I liked you a lot. I never really knew what to do. You were always so…so much. You were so loud and so bossy and god, you acted like you knew everything. It was exhausting, keeping up with you, Tony.”

“You did alright, Rogers.”

Steve snorted, looking up at the stars. “Yeah,” he said softly, “But whenever you’d step too close while yelling at me, I’d count the freckles on your nose, or the times you blinked. Come to think of it, it wasn’t exactly what I’d call healthy.”

Tony laughs, and scoots closer to Steve. “That one time, in drama? You remember that?”

“Of course.”

“I almost kissed you. You were so damn close and so fucking annoying, jesus. I just wanted to grab you and make you shut up, for one damn second.”

Steve laughed, the sound loud in the quiet air. “You should’ve,” he said, turning to meet Tony’s eyes. “I would’ve thanked you for it.”

“Yeah?” Tony breathes, and his brain is short circuiting a little, because Steve is so close, and his voice is that deep kind of low that Tony’s always loved.

“Yeah,” Steve replies, and it’s barely sound, just breath between their mouths.

When they finally lean in fully, the kiss is soft and gentle, and Tony finds himself fighting the urge to smile against Steve’s mouth. Steve’s hand comes up to cup Tony’s jaw, and Tony winds one arm around his waist. They both taste like the milkshakes they just had, and it’s kind of perfect, kissing in an empty parking lot, under the stars.

“So?” Steve asks, when they pull away, his thumb gently caressing Tony’s cheek, “How was it?”

“Overdue,” Tony replies, grinning, “10 years overdue.”

“Worth it?”

Tony laughs, pulling Steve back in. “A thousand percent. So worth it. Perfect.”

They stay there until Rhodey texts Tony a picture of them making out on the hood of Steve’s car, captioned with a text that reads: “FUCKIN’ FINALLY! ONLY TOOK YOU TEN YEARS!”

commission me!

#stony #stevetony #steve/tony #stevextony #superhusbands #steve rogers #tony stark #ironman #steverogers #tonystark #mine #stony fanfic #stony fanfiction #iron man #captain america #stony fic #captainamerica

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letswritebangtan · 5 years

Text

same old reason why

Jungkook x reader f.t. Taehyung

synopsis: taehyung is your ex and he left you for a specific reason. But then you met Jungkook and it seems like the turn of events were starting to happen all over again, leaving you heartbroken.

angst + fluff + happy ending

_____________________________________________________

“You’re back.” you said smiling as you walked up to your boyfriend, kissing him on his cheek.

“Hi baby.” he responded, circling one arm around your waist and to your back to pull you closer to his chest.

Taehyung held a sad expression, and he wouldn’t stop looking into your eyes. You frowned and moved a few strands of hair off his forehead.

“Is everything okay? You seem different.” you asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine I just need a shower.” he shrugged it off, placing his bag on the floor.

“Why don’t you eat dinner first? You’re always starving after-”

“I’m not hungry, y/n. I’ll eat later.”

“But I waited for you.” you said slightly annoyed.

“Well I never asked you to, y/n.” he replied gruffly as he searched for his towel.

“Taehyung, you better stop what you’re doing and tell me what’s going on this instant. You aren’t behaving like your usual self.” you insisted.

Taehyung pressed his lips into a thin line and continued to rummage in his bag for his towel.

“Did you not hear me?” you repeated slightly angry now.

“Let’s break up.”

You stopped and blinked a few times, trying to make sure that you heard him right.

“What?” you asked in disbelief.

He kicked his bag away angrily and stood up straight, running his hand through his hair.

“I-we- can’t be together anymore, y/n. So please don’t make this harder than it already is, just leave.”

“Taehyung if this is a joke-”

“It’s not.” he snapped. “Why would I joke about this?”

“Then why the hell are you doing this?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“So you ask me to leave and you don’t even tell me the reason why?” you asked stepping closer to him.

Taehyung looked at you dejectedly, trying to find something to say but the sight of you with tears welled up in your eyes and your sad and worried expression crushed him.

“You don’t even want this.” you said.

“I’m being transferred, to America. You know how long distance doesn’t really work-”

“How would you know? You’re just making assumptions and throwing away our relationship without even trying. Is this how much I meant to you?” you asked, now crying softly.

“Baby, I-don’t cry please. This is why I asked you to leave, I didn’t want to make things harder.” he begged.

“Yeah I’ll leave. I’ll leave only because you’re being a selfish, inconsiderate prick right now.” you huffed and turned to go to your room to pack your things.

Taehyung stood motionless, as much as he wanted to reach out and grab you, he knew it was best if he left you alone. You probably hated him by now, and he hated himself much more. But he had to give you up. The thought of you being lonely without him by your side every night, he didn’t want that for you. You deserved someone who would be by your side no matter what, and he couldn’t be that guy. So when you left the apartment that night, Taehyung broke down in tears, knowing that you’d find someone else.

time skip

“So wait, you’re telling me that you got your way out of a speeding fine because you promised the policewoman to dinner?” you asked.

“Pretty much, yeah. But I’m only doing tacos, nothing expensive. She’s too old for me anyway.” Jimin said shrugging.

“God, you’re an asshole.” you said laughing.

“What? It’s not like she has feelings for me or anything, I’m not breaking her heart.” he defended.

“Well how would you know that?” you raised an eyebrow.

“She’s in her fifty’s and most probably widowed. And the only thing widows want from a handsome 24 year old is-”

“Okay, don’t need to go there, I got ya. The thought of that gives me shivers.” you huffed.

“Yeah, well at least you aren’t the one in that situation. Also, cute guy checking you out at 3 o’clock.” Jimin said subtly flickering his eyes over to the ‘cute guy’.

You casually turned around to take something from your bag and your eyes looked up momentarily, and your gaze locked with his. He bashfully turned away and pretended like he had work behind the counter. You smiled and turned back to Jimin.

“You know you should talk to him, give him a sign. Otherwise he’ll move on.” Jimin suggested.

“Yeah but it’s nicer to have him ogling at me.”

“Who’s the asshole now?” Jimin asked smirking, making you chuckle.

“Seriously, there’s no one lining up. Go order something.” Jimin urged.

“But I’m full.”

“Well I’m not. I want a muffin, thanks dearest.” he said playfully as you rolled your eyes at him.

Walking up to the counter was one of the most awkward situations because you had no idea where to look. The cute guy obviously saw you approaching and tried to keep it cool but the moment he was in the closest proximity that he has ever been with you since he first laid eyes on you, had made him feel slightly dizzy.

“You okay? You look a little pink.” you said smiling. He looked adorable like that.

“I-it must be the weather. It’s cold out.” he replied shyly.

“If you say so. I’d like a muffin please, the one with no gluten.”

Jungkook was surprised that you were ‘gluten conscious’ because you didn’t seem like the type. But then you went ahead and ordered a hot dog with ketchup and mayo and he realised maybe the muffin was for your friend. Or was he your boyfriend?

“I’m guessing the muffin isn’t for you?” he asked.

“How did you know?” you said surprised.

“You don’t seem like the type that cares about whether or not there’s gluten in their food.” he said chuckling.

“You’re right, I’m not.” you answered smiling, feeling amused.

“I don’t get why it matters so much anyway.” he shrugged.

“Tell me about it! When it’s food, you just eat it, right?”

“Absolutely.” he agreed.

“You should really tell Jimin about this, he never listens, he always calls me unhealthy.” you complained.

“Is your boyfriend over there, Jimin?” I mean, he had to ask.

“Boyfriend? Oh no, Jimin’s not my boyfriend. We don’t see each other that way.” you assured.

Jungkook nodded with his lips slightly parted, only to let a sigh of relief pass through them.

“So what’s your name?” he asked casually.

Your eyebrows lifted in amusement at his bold question. You saw his eyes widen briefly before shaking his head.

“I-I mean I need to write it on your receipt. I didn’t mean to-”

You laughed, “It’s alright, I wouldn’t have minded anyway. I’m y/n. Can I know your name?”

He smiled and lifted the tag fitted to his apron.

“I’m Jungkook.”

time skip (a month later)

“Give it back! You’re taking too long.” you grumbled as you tried to snatch the chocolate bar out of Jungkook’s hands.

He was apparently too busy trying to check its sugar contents because he was on a strict diet given to him by his trainer.

“y/n, there’s too much sugar in this.” he whined.

You finally managed to snatch it back, and you broke off a piece and began nibbling on it.

“So?”

“So I can’t eat that.”

“Then don’t.” you shrugged.

“Well don’t eat it in front of me! I want chocolate too.” he complained like a baby.

“Well, you shouldn’t have gotten into that diet in the first place.”

“Would you rather I not have any of this?” he gestured to his chest and muscles.

“Jungkook, I’d love you even if you were a big blob of mush.”

“That’s sweet and all, babe, but I’m really hungry. And work was tiring.” he said as he shuffled closer to you, burying his head into your neck.

“Can you be my snack?” he asked innocently looking up at you.

“Yeah, how about no?”

He grumbled, making you giggle softly. “Oh come on, one piece of chocolate won’t hurt, Kook.”

“That’s what they all say. My trainer told me it’s a trap.” he said glaring at the chocolate.

“You’re such a kid. An adorable kid. Here, how about we watch Iron Man 2 and you can forget all about your diet and hunger.” you said picking up the remote.

“Hm, okay.”

It wasn’t even five minutes later when:

“y/n, I wanna go to the park.”

“Will you just watch the movie?”

“No, I want to go to the park and take a walk and get ice cream-”

“Whoa what happened to your diet?” you teased.

“It’s cheat day. Come on.” he said pulling your arm.

So you complied with your silly boyfriend and went to the park. Jungkook devoured his ice cream, and ordered another before you could even finish yours. The two of you sat on a bench by the lake and enjoyed the ice cream and each others’ presence.

“You know I never really asked you this. Not that it matters but I’m curious.” Jungkook said.

“Well what is it?” you replied.

“Have you dated before?” he asked.

You nodded, “Yeah once. But it was a while ago.”

“Would you mind if I asked you about it?” Jungkook asked carefully.

“It’s okay, Kook. I can tell you. Well we dated for about two years, and then one day he came home and told me to leave because he got transferred to America and he didn’t like the idea of a long-distance relationship.”

“Wow, that was harsh.” Jungkook said wrapping his arm around you.

“Yeah, life is tough sometimes. But it’s fine, we talked again afterwards and ended things calmly and we mutually agreed to move on.”

Jungkook nodded, “At least it was a mutual decision.”

“What about you?” you asked curiously.

“I had three girlfriends in the past, let’s just say that none of them stayed loyal.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. What’s up with people and cheating, it’s the most disgusting thing someone can do.” you said annoyed.

Jungkook smiled, “I’m glad you think that.”

You turned to look at him and he leaned closer to you, kissing you softly on the lips.

“See, wasn’t such a bad idea to come to the park.” Jungkook said.

“Yeah, I guess you were right. Nothing like a peaceful evening with my baby.” you teased.

“I’m not a baby. I’m a strong muscular man. Fight me.”

The two of you laughed and talked more, kissed a whole lot. Jungkook was an amazing person, and he had your entire heart.

time skip again i swear it’s the last

“I’ll come pick you up around noon? We can get coffee at that new place you wanted to try.” you spoke through the phone.

“I don’t really feel like going out today, y/n.” Jungkook sighed. He sounded like he was busy at work, you could hear papers shuffling around. Just the thought of the clutter on his desk made you want to go there and clean it all up.

“Are you busy, Kook? We can talk later if you are.” you said sounding concerned.

“Yeah, I’ll call you back, y/n.” he said before ending the call.

You frowned at the thought of how Jungkook was so stressed at work. You wanted him to relax a little bit, so you thought of taking him out on a picnic later in the evening after he was off work. You imagined lying on the mat laid out on the grass, next to your boyfriend staring up at the clear sky. You knew Jungkook loved things like that, so you got yourself busy planning for the picnic.

Meanwhile at Jungkook’s office:

“Are you refusing the offer, Jungkook?”

“No sir, don’t get me wrong, but don’t you think it’s too soon? I mean I’ve just settled down here and started everything and I couldn’t possibly move away-”

“That’s not what it is, is it?”

He swallowed and looked down. “You’re right, it’s not.”

“Then what is it, boy? Look, I’ve known you many years now and you don’t seem like the type of person who would hold back on things. So tell me, what’s bothering you so much?”

“I can’t leave her.” His voice sounded strained.

“Ah, I see what it is now.”

Jungkook sighed and ran a hand through his hair, thinking of how he was going to break this news to you.

“I know what I say next won’t be of much help, but it’s practical. If you don’t move now, you’re going to be jobless in the near future. The heads are planning on shutting down this branch and when that happens, where will you go? Listen Jungkook, I’m giving you this chance to move because I know you’re good at what you do and you deserve this job. I wouldn’t want you throwing away a stable income to prevent a girl’s heart from being broken.” his boss said.

Jungkook’s chest felt tight, feelings of guilt and frustration consuming him. You were going to hate him for this, he knew it. He could bring you with him, but you had such a great life here and he didn’t want to take that from you. But he was also selfish because he wanted you with him.

While Jungkook was driving home you had sent him a text and told him to meet you at the park. You shoved your phone into your coat pocket and crossed the street, following the crowd. You searched for a nice spot to settle on and while you were looking around your shoulder bumped into someone’s chest, making you stumble back but luckily the person caught you by your shoulders so that you wouldn’t fall.

“y/n.” Taehyung said breathlessly.

You looked up at him shocked and wide eyed. “Taehyung?”

He let go of your shoulders and flashed you his sweet smile, the one that you adored. It made your heart clench with longing.

“Never thought I’d see you here.” he said.

You let out an awkward laugh, “I live here, you know that.”

“No, I meant at the park. You never stepped foot outdoors during winter.”

Taehyung was right, you were usually cocooned in your blankets watching something on the tv, while Taehyung built his snowman all by himself. But eventually he’ll threaten to throw snowballs at you if you didn’t step outside to join him.

“Oh, yeah, I guess the outdoors isn’t so bad anymore.” you shrugged, smiling softly.

Taehyung looked really good in his fitted coat, his hair looking soft as ever as the strands bounced up and down on the top of his forehead as they were lifted by the breeze.

“So, how's everything?” he asked.

“It’s been great. How’s America?”

“America’s okay, I guess. There’s nothing like home, you know?”

He did that cute thing where he lifted both his shoulders and set them down again quickly.

“I bet you’re just here for the seasonal pudding they have at that convenience store.” you joked, making Taehyung flash you his boxy smile as he laughed.

“Or that, yeah.” he replied amused.

Then you heard your phone buzzing in your pocket, indicating that Jungkook was here.

“Oh, I’m sorry I have to go. My boyfriend’s here.” you gave him an apologetic smile.

You saw his expression fall slightly, but he was quick to cover it up.

“Oh of course, go ahead. I-if you don’t mind, would you like to get coffee sometime?” he asked hopefully.

You smiled, “I’d love to, Taehyung.”

“And I’m....I just want to say I’m really sorry for what happened. It was difficult for me, you know, to let you go like that.” he said suddenly.

You bit your lip and shook your head, “It was a long time ago, I’m over it now. I’ll see you around.”

You waved at him before walking away, and Taehyung sighed as he shoved his hands in his pockets and walked in the opposite direction. You crossed the bridge over the lake to where Jungkook asked you to meet him. When you saw his figure standing there an instant smile came to your face ans you jogged over to him.

He saw you approaching him and smiled back at you, a sad smile. Then he saw the picnic mat and basket that you were carrying and in his head he couldn’t help but think this was probably the last time he’d ever have a picnic with you.

“So this is why you called me here, for a picnic?” he asked as he placed a kiss on your forehead.

“You sounded like you were having a hard time at work so I wanted us to have a relaxing evening.” you said.

He took the mat from you and laid it on the floor. You sat down and began unpacking all the snacks.

“Whoa, babe, you made all this?” he asked as he surveyed all the food in front of him.

“I know how much of a muscle pig you are and you need the energy so, dig in.” you said proudly.

Jungkook bit his lip, trying not to think about what he had to tell you. As you happily unwrapped a sandwich to give to him he saw how happy you were and he felt terrible doing this to you. He knew now, how your ex must have felt. He was sure that your ex never wanted to leave either.

“Open your mouth.” you said as you pushed a sandwich towards him.

Jungkook held your wrist gently and moved it away. He looked at you with concern, making you frown.

“y/n, we need to talk.” he sighed.

You set the sandwich aside and sat up straight.

“Okay, talk to me.”

“They’re transferring me.”

Your eyes widened, and you felt your heart sink. All you could think about was:

“I’m being transferred, to America. You know how long distance doesn’t really work-”

“It’s happening again, isn’t it?” you asked, your voice sounding broken.

Jungkook looked at you apologetically and tried to take your hands in his but you refused.

“Baby, I’m sorry but there’s nothing that I can-”

“So you don’t believe in long distance either, huh?” you asked sarcastically.

He sighed, “I don’t but it’s not that-y/n!”

You got up and started gathering your things.

“You know I might as well move to America and get a boyfriend, since everyone’s being transferred there.” you said angrily and then stormed off.

Jungkook ran after you pleading for you to stop but you wouldn’t have it. It happened once, and you couldn’t believe it was happening again. Jungkook finally managed to get a hold of you, and you protested, but he pulled your firmly to his chest and trapped you there. It made you give in, and you were sobbing into his chest now.

“Trust me, y/n, I hate this just as much as you do. Listen I’ve given it a lot of thought, and I’ve decided that you’re more important. It’s just a job, y/n, I can find one anywhere. But I can never find someone like you anywhere else even if I searched the entire world.” he said, cupping your cheeks in his hands.

“No, Jungkook, if you want to go ahead with your job I shouldn’t be stopping you. I’m sorry I overreacted I just, it really hurts, you know? But I get that you have responsibilities of your own and things that you need to do and I can’t keep you here with me all the ti-”

And you were cut off by his lips, pressing onto yours so desperately to keep you in place. He wanted to banish all thoughts of either of you leaving. It was a stupid thought.

The two of you pulled away gasping for air and Jungkook wiped your tears with the pads of his thumb.

“I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you. We’re staying right here.”

You laughed softly, more tears rolling down your cheeks. You buried your face into his chest and he stroked your back lightly. Minutes passed as the two of you embraced each other.

“We really are a dramatic couple, huh?” Jungkook chuckled.

You smiled, “Everyone needs a little drama sometimes.”

“Wanna go finish those sandwiches?” he asked and he kissed the top of your head multiple times.

“Yeah, maybe if you stop devouring my head.” you said laughing.

Jungkook smiled and lifted you over his shoulder, making you scream.

“I’ll throw your sandwiches in the lake Jeon, I mean it.” you threatened.

“You won’t be able to as long as your safe on my shoulder, babe.” he said cockily and gave your bum a light smack.

“Jungkook!”

___________________________________________________

the end! This was an idea off the top of my head. Like and reblog pretty please <3 thank you!

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baekberrie · 6 years

Text

🌸dnce to this ➬ bbh🌸

🌸Fluff, romance, one-shot/drabble

🌸Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader

Your lips puckered together shortly to make sure that the lipstick was layered evenly, your eyelids sparkled with a simple highlighted nude eyeshadow, a thin eyeliner wing completed the look. There was another party that you had been invited to this week, a classmate from university had made sure to invite as many people as possible and since you had promised your friend that she'd find you there, you were already touching up your face with some light makeup. It probably wasn't a fancy party so you weren't going for a super glam look. You were just about to pick out an outfit for the evening when the door to your room opened. A lazily dressed boy appeared from behind the door, his caramel brown hair was a fluffy mess and the oversized clothes made him look so tiny. That boy happened to be your boyfriend, who also was supposed to come with you to that party, like always, he was nowhere near decent to go out.

"What did I tell you about not knocking on my door before you enter?" You scolded while you rummaged through your closet, not sure about what to wear, anything you'd come up with would either feel to simple or too elegant.

Baekhyun made himself comfortable on your bed and muttered a "Forgot," obviously he hadn't forgotten at all, that was why he had stuck his tongue out at you behind your back. A sigh left your lips when you finally found something nice to wear.

"Baekhyun you need to go change, we'll leave in ten minutes." The fact that he only gave you a hum made it pretty clear that he had no intention to move from his current spot. But you didn't want to go there alone so you insisted.

"Fine, I'll go alone then," The tone in your voice was purposely bitter because you knew that no matter how lazy Baekhyun would get, he hated to be lazy alone. You had to bite down on your lip to keep it from curling into a smile when you heard him whine with protest. Purposely, you ignored his pleads and pretended to search deeper into your dresser.

"These earrings would look cute," You muttered for yourself, making sure to speak loudly enough for him to hear you and you couldn't help the satisfaction that you felt when he growled out a desperate Come on!

With a shrug you headed out of the room, making your way down to the kitchen. Although you left him in your room you were secretly waiting for him to catch up with you, but knowing him, your hopes weren't too high. The summer air was making it hot and stuffy inside of your apartment and although it was soon eight in the evening, the sun had yet to set and the cicadas were still joyfully praising the warm weather.

Cold water splashed into the glass when you suddenly felt a pair of arms snuggle around your waist. The surprise made a shiver run down your spine and you soon forgot about the flooding water in against your hands. Baekhyun's soft hair tickled your neck when he let his face hide in the side of your neck, his hot breath clouding on your skin.

"Do we really need to go to that party?" He whispered softly and for the tone in his voice, you could tell that he was unconsciously jutting out his lip into that absurdly adorable pup face of his. His thumb was drawing absentminded circles on your stomach, the warmth of his body transferred to yours, it would have been a lie if you said that you weren't enjoying it. In fact, you were starting to doubt whether you really wanted to go spend most of the night out.

"But I promised Bea-" You started, but Baekhyun didn't even let you finish the sentence before he spoke again.

"Bea will leave you at the bar alone after five minutes like she always does." Well, there flew all of your excuses in one blow. He wasn't wrong and you couldn't really tell him otherwise, because he had seen that himself.

"I don't know," You sighed, for some reason you didn't want to give into his laziness, the fact that he was now way more appealing than that party already meant that he had won.

Baekhyun's lips pecked the crook of your neck a few times, "We have already been to all those parties, they're all the same anyways."

After a short while, his arms disappeared from your waist as he reached out for the retro-styled radio that was placed on the counter, you didn't use it often since it was mainly for the purpose of decorating. Questioningly, you stared at him while he kept on doing his thing with the device. You couldn't help but notice how much colder you felt when he wasn't back hugging you.

"What are you doing?"

"You don't need to drive all the way to an expensive club to dance you know? We could just put on the radio," He said, the smirk was hearable even in his voice, but it was nothing compared to the look he sent you when he looked at you from behind his shoulder, and just a few seconds later there the tune of a soft RnB song echoing against the walls. The male fidgeted with the light switch, making the kitchen lights decrease their brightness.

Just like if you were a teenager, your heart fluttered an unhealthy amount of times when he walked up to you and didn't hesitate to place his pretty hands on your hips, the smirk on his face turned slightly softer, but the mischief was still there and you could see it glinting in his eyes. Eventually, Baekhyun gently pushed your hips against his, pressing your bodies together, he was warm and somehow it just felt so comforting. Your arms found their way around his neck and your cheek resting against his shoulder. His scent didn't fail to put you under a beautiful daze as his hands traveled higher up, one resting around your waist and the other threaded carefully through your hair, massaging your scalp.

The sun was starting to set and the light beige walls took its warm shades to themselves, the soft music continued while the two of you rocked slowly under the dim kitchen lights.

"Well," Baekhyun murmured lowly against your cheek and you pulled ever so slightly away just to look at him, barely escaping getting lost into his dark chocolate like orbs.

"Isn't this better than any possible party?" He raised a cocky eyebrow although his voice was way too soft to be challenging, he knew exactly the answer to his question. Although he was trying to tease you, he had set you into a whole different mood now. You ignored his challenged and just pushed your lips against his. He responded with a soft hum, you felt his lips curl against yours into a smile.

"I'll take that as a yes,"

--------------------------------

very short, kind of meaningless (wrote it in one go, sorry for mistakes) but a lil and cozy scenario won't hurt!💕 Stay awesome, xoxo // P✨💖

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purple-moonlights-blog · 6 years

Text

STRAY KIDS 10th MEMBER AU

Hello there loves 🌸

As always, please feel free to request anything for this AU and give suggestions. If you want to know anything about Nova, feel free to do that too! I would like to hear your opinions about should happen! Currently, all the scenarios are only about major events that had to happen before debut, but please if you have an idea for some random scenario let me know! :) xx

☾☼

btw. I’m so bad with titles, omg

▸ Check out the Profile HERE

▸ Request for the AU HERE

▸ MASTERLIST

Words: 1420

Warnings: Swearing probably ⎮ As always weird grammar and spelling mistakes, English is not my native language⎮

Summary: Stray Kids moving into their new dorm (Basically the 1st ep., but I did change a bit what happened) At the very end it’s like really sappy, lol I’m sorry

IV. 〈MOVING IN〉

(gif not mine)

It was mid-October, thus also the beginning of Star Kids road to debut through the survival show. Which also meant, all of them would move into a dorm together, making so another step on officially being a group.

To be honest, Nova was at first not really excited about moving together. Not because she disliked being around the boys, quite the opposite actually. Over the course of the past month, they grew on her and she felt somewhat protective over them. Especially the youngest two, Jeongin and Seungmin. Probably because she always wanted a younger sibling. She did have her younger cousins, which Nova loved to tease and shower them with love, but at home, she has always been the youngest. It did have its advantages to be youngest - her older brothers, despite their constant mocking, loved to spoil her since she was the baby of the family.

Despite her growing fond of the boys, she was kind of skeptical on moving in with nine guys. Since she was little, she has been around more guys than girls, so her feeling uncomfortable about living with them wasn’t the issue, more she was worried that it would start rumors. She knew how the Internet ticked, more than often they would take something seemingly innocent and turn it into a massive scandal by making stuff up and blowing everything out of proportion. But then again, Nova probably was only overthinking it. Surly did the fans know that there was nothing but friendship between them.

„Man woah, it’s pretty and it doesn’t smell bad,“ Nova called out, as she stepped in their new dorm for the first time and looked around the still empty room. It smelled of fresh paint and cleaning agents, apparently, the dorm has been renovated not long ago.

„What kind of hellhole did you use to live in?“ Felix asked, chuckling about her stunned expression and letting his multiple plush toys drop on the floor for the reason that he wasn’t able to hold them anymore. „It wasn’t bad for a 500 thousand won a month apartment in the city center.“ Remembering back to her old apartment where she moved in at the beginning this year and where it always smelled musty and mold grew uncontrollable the corners.

„This, however,“ she made a sweeping gesture, „is another level. I kind of regret now that I for a second was contemplating on not moving in.“

„Excuse me?“ Jisung said, pretending to be offended. „Only because I don’t want to deal with you 24/7, it’s enough that I see you at the company every day.“ Playfully she stuck her tongue out at him, whereby she immediately had to duck herself, because Jisung threw his pillow at her, which he took with him from the boy's old dorm.

Chan, who just stepped out of one the bedrooms, watched the scenario with raised eyebrows and could only shake his head at them. He still sometimes found himself confused about their friendship, but decided to not further question it and let them be.

„My mum sent me snacks,“ Chan interrupted their play-fight, holding up a cookie package, „in case you two want too.“ Jisung immediately let go of her and rushed to the other room, where the other guys were already devouring the snacks. Nova, however, awkwardly remained standing in the middle of the living room. She was trying to watch her waistline, now, they were appearing on TV. „Cookie?“ Chan offered her and held out the package. „No thank you.“ She refused, giving him a slight smile and then left to join the others.

„Let’s now decide who is with who in a room,” Chan said loudly, as he stepped in after Nova. “So, who wants to be roommates?“ ”Nova, Jeongin and I,“ Jisung immediately said with his mouth full with crisps. „Oh please not,“ Jeongin groaned quietly to himself, even though he liked them a lot, only imaging to be around them and their constant bickering all the time gave him a headache.

„Let’s not put you two,“ Chan pointed at Nova and Jisung, „in the same room. It’s just going to be living hell for whoever has to be with you in a room.“ Jisung softly elbowed Nova in her side to get her attention and whispered, „Maybe it’s really better if we aren’t in a room together. After a week, I would probably want to strangle you.“ Nova snorted, trying to kick him, which Jisung avoided by taking a step back, quietly giggling about her clumsy attempt. „Likewise.“

In the end, they decided that Chan and Changbin get the two people room, in the room for four people were now Felix, Minho, Nova, and Jeongin and in that third room, Jisung, Seungmin, Hyunjin, and Woojin. Putting Jisung, Seungmin, and Hyunjin in the same room didn’t seem very safe. Nova could already imagine the disaster that’s going to happen. Maybe Woojin will keep it under control, he was after all the oldest in the group.

After they settle that, they decided to split up into two groups, one that was responsible for preparing dinner, while the other group set up the furniture for the living area. Nova joined Hyunjin, Changbin, and Minho to go to the convenience store since she wasn’t good with her hands.

„Oh Tteokbokki,“ Minho said abruptly, and picked up rice cakes from the shelf in a convenience store, „Let’s do Tteokbokki!“ „Does anyone of us actually know how to cook?“ Hyunjin asked, looking at the others. „In my old apartment, I haven’t used the stove once,“ Nova confessed with a blank expression, which made the guys laugh. „Don’t tell me you only ate microwavable food,“ Minho asked. Guilty she grinned at him. „That’s so unhealthy!“ Minho exclaimed and laid an arm around her, „Oppa is going to make sure that you are eating properly from now on!“

Since Nova was added to Stray Kids, Minho tried to make her call him Oppa, but which she stubbornly refused.

„Anyway, you can trust me. I know how to do it.“ Minho let go of Nova and put five servings of Tteokbokki sauce into the basket. „Do you really think that he knows what he’s doing?“ Changbin whispered, glancing at his Hyung with doubt. Nova shrugged with her shoulders, as in, they have to wait and see.

„We should take eggs too. Seungnimie loves eggs.“ Hyunjin announced, holding up an egg carton. „We could get soft drinks too, if we have enough money“ Nova suggested, looking at Minho since he was in charge about paying. „Yeah go ahead, choose something,“ he replied.

She quickly searched between the aisle for the drinks and ended up choosing Sprite and Coke, for the simple reason that she knew that the guys liked them the best.

Later, when they returned to the dorm, the four of them began preparing the Tteokbokki, while the others were still struggling to set up the table. Minho took charge and assigned Nova to cut the vegetables. She wanted to grab the big knife but Minho snatched it away from her and instead handed her the small knife.

„Please give me the other knife, I can’t properly cut anything with that,“ she said, holding up the little knife with the green plastic handle. „No, you are going to cut yourself,“ Minho responded, pushing the vegetables over to her and giving her apologetic smile since he knew that Nova hated it when other treat her like a child. „I will not,“ she frowned. Even though she knew that Minho only meant it well, she couldn’t help but feel slightly offended.

Hyunjin, who was busy stuffing his face with cheese mumbled with his mouth full. „Yesterday, you cut yourself while opening a can.“ He pointed at the plaster on her finger and then turned his attention back to the cheese.

Nova didn’t respond anything to that, instead, she began to cut the vegetables while uttering English swear words under her breath, as Changbin and Minho watched the whole situation amused.

Somehow they managed to cook something edible without burning the whole kitchen down, Minho did after all know how to cook. They ate together on the floor in the living room, using one of the cartoons as a table, happily chatting with each other. It was the first time they all had a meal together and as they sat so together, the ten of them, Nova for the first time felt like she really was now a part of Stray Kids.

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ohwhatamessiam · 7 years

Text

Give -Part 6

Summary: Bucky and (Y/N) had an amazing yet brief relationship in Bucharest before all hell broke loose. Two years later they reconnect in a bar in Brooklyn, but things have changed and neither are the same as they were before. Will their relationship survive or is a break up inevitable?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Language, fluff, and some heartbreak. Sorry this one might hurt.

Author’s Note: Hi again! This is part 6 of my submission to @bladebarnes‘s #bladehits2kchallenge inspired by the song Give by You Me At Six. As usual 1st person reader, and this is the last of flashback-ville! A thank you, I love you, and a let’s-go-see-some-bands-together-in-November(?) to @lostboyinneverland for beta-ing me. We’re coming to the end guys, only one more to go! I have had an idea for a sequel but y’all let me know if you want it (or maybe I’ll just end up writing it I don’t know.) Here’s my Spotify playlist to listen to while reading the entire fic. Hopefully this turned out okay, and let me know your thoughts!

Give | Masterlist

Light hit my face, flashing bright behind my eyelids and warming my skin. I rolled to my side, needing to escape the glare of the sun but found something harder than a pillow under my head. My eyelashes fluttered as my vision started working again and a soft chuckle came from above me.

Tilting my head the slightest bit I caught Bucky watching me, a pleasant smile on his lips and a loving look in his eyes. I smiled, wrapping my arm around his waist and molding my body into his side. I’d apparently been sleeping with my head against his chest because as I moved my cheek, my lips brushed against his skin. Lifting my body, I stretched to find his mouth and was grateful for his warm fingers hooking under my chin and guiding my lips the rest of the way. The kiss was soft, affectionate, and the perfect way to start my day.

“If that’s how you say good morning babe, I think I’m gonna have to spend the night more often,” I spoke against his chest, resting my head near his heart.

“I’d like that,” he smiled, metal fingers stroking my hair. I sighed onto his skin and closed my eyes, settling back into his body. His metal thumb stroked my cheek as I drifted back to sleep.

It was too soon when Bucky squeezed my arm and whispered, “We should get up doll. We can’t stay in bed all day.”

I knew he was right but I also never wanted to leave his side. Never wanted to be without his warmth, his smell, and his skin again. “Why not?” I whined against his rib cage.

“Your stomach’s been growling for the last 10 minutes,” he chuckled. “As much as I want to stay here all day, we both need to eat something eventually.”

“Fine,” I groaned, lifting my head from his body, “What do you have to eat?” With daylight illuminating his apartment, I could see he’d been living here a while. Somehow the place was in even worse shape than my own, with cracked tiles and horribly peeling wallpaper. But the old fridge, coffee brewer, array of mismatched dishes, and bag of chips sitting on top of the fridge told me he’d done his best to make it home.

“Not a whole lot.” He rolled off the bed, leaving me to find my shirt on the ground. “Do you have anything in your apartment?” he called as he rummaged through his closet. He emerged with a black short sleeve shirt and pair of dark wash jeans on, and his arms in a red henley he was pulling over his head.

“I think I have a few eggs left over, a partial loaf of bread, and possibly some yogurt.” As I stood up, I noticed the newspapers taped over his balcony door and windows.

Perched on the edge of his loveseat, he pulled on a pair of socks and watched me try to find my shoes. “Some fresh fruit would go well with the toast or the yogurt,” he answered, a sly smirk playing on his lips. I found my shoes in the hall, accompanied by two shining objects.

“It would,” I nodded, picking up both my kitchen knife and a smaller combat knife. “You should probably put this away.” I handed him the weapon, noticing his gulp and quick turn to the counter to find its sheath.

He concealed and secured it around his ankle before pulling on his boots, and reaching for his black baseball hat. “I’ll go run to the fruit stand and get something.”

“You mean you’ll get plums?” I tilted my head and smiled at him, holding the blade of my kitchen knife downward.

“Maybe,” he blushed. He tugged his gloves on and jacket before meeting me at his door. “But they’re my favorite.” Pausing directly in front of me, his hands held my face, covered thumbs caressing my cheeks and I wished I could melt under his touch. I snaked a hand out to his hip, pulling him closer to me.

“I know they are,” I whispered, my lips brushing his cheek. He turned his head, finding my lips with his own and our mouths worked together in a moment of fervent passion. The bill of his hat pushed back from his face as I rose onto my toes.

Pulling back from my mouth he grinned, “They’re almost as sweet as you.” I couldn’t help the tug at my heart or the flush on my cheeks. I peppered his face with small kisses, only stopping when I reached his smiling lips. A covered hand slid down to my hip, gripping me against him and deepening the kiss. I welcomed him in, savoring the way his scruff brushed against my lips and his tongue teased mine. Our lips separated for us to catch our breath, and he exhaled, “I swear I’ll only be gone for 20 minutes tops.” I kissed him again but his hand tilted my jaw, pulling us apart. “I’ll meet you in your apartment,” he moaned, wetting his lips as his heavy lidded eyes betrayed his desire. His clothed metal fingers slipped under the hem of my shirt teasingly and he raised his brows in suggestion, “We can continue… this.”

Pausing for a second, I bit my lip. This was all so new to us, and normally I’d never want to be this attached to someone, but Bucky felt so comfortable, so right to me. I reasoned with myself that this was just the honeymoon phase and it’d be more unhealthy if we were too codependent. As reluctant as I was to let him go, I knew I could wait 20 minutes for him. “Okay,” I nodded, prompting him to kiss me one last time before opening the front door.

He tugged his hat back down, planting a peck on my forehead. “I’ll rush back, I promise.”

Three loud knocks echoed from my front door. I pulled the skillet of eggs from the stove, carefully dumping them onto plates. One more loud bang came from the door, and this one sounded harder than knuckles meeting wood. Hurrying across my apartment, I unlocked the deadbolt quickly and yanked the door open.

Regret was etched all over Bucky’s features as I grabbed his elbow and guided him into the hallway. I closed the door and turned to find him frozen directly behind me.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, but my words quieting in my throat as his haunted eyes met mine.

“I just, I really wanted this to work,” he sighed, gaze dropping to the floor. “I did.”

Shaking my head, I pulled the bag of plums from his hand and took them to the kitchen. “What do you mean?” I was afraid of what I’d see if I looked at his face.

“Us. This.” He spoke clearly, his voice carrying across the room.

I turned on my heel, anger and heat suddenly rising in my chest. “Considering what you said to me last night and 20 minutes ago, if this is a break up speech it seems pretty insincere.” Crossing my arms over my chest, I watched him searching for his next words. This obviously was not planned on his part.

“I-, I thought I could be happy. I was wrong.”

“Drop the bullshit,” I groaned, grasping his jaw in my hand and forcing him to look at me. “You’ve been happy for the last two weeks with me. I’ve been nothing but honest with you Bucky, and you didn’t lie to me about your past. Don’t you dare start now.”

His steely gaze held mine for only a moment before softening. I let go of his face as he muttered, “Well shit.” Moving quickly past me, he went to one of my windows. He checked the streets near our building and then the sky. “I’m not trying to break up with you, but I’m trying to tell you this isn’t going to end well.”

“What’s going on?”

He moved from one window to the next. “They’re coming for me,” he answered, turning to look at me and then back out to the street. “I don’t know what suddenly changed but there was a picture of me on a newspaper about the bombing in Vienna.”

“Do you think it’s Hydra?” I asked, closing the distance between us. My hands slipped over his shoulders and across his chest, leaning my body onto his back.

“No, it’s the UN I think, or some government agency.” He continued to stare out the window, his fingers tapping against his leg. “And since I’m now a domestic terrorist according to the paper, they won’t care whether they take me in alive or not.”

Slipping around him, I placed myself between the window and his body. “Don’t say that, we’ll figure a way out of this. I’ll come forward and say you were with me last-.”

Shaking his head, he cut me off, “No. There’s no chance in hell that I’m letting you expose yourself for me. They’ll scrutinize you, interrogate you, maybe even arrest you.” I sighed against him, mentally searching for another way to help him. “Honestly, I’m thinking about surrendering.”

Holding a breath in his lungs longer than usual, I rubbed his forearms, trying to soothe him. “But you didn’t do it.”

His gaze turned hard, “How do you know that? You didn’t even ask.”

Hands slipping to his face, I brought his forehead to mine, “Because I know you. That’s not you anymore.”

“But it could be.”

“But even if it could be you, physically. That’s not you, it’s not what you want or what’s in here.” I poked his chest reminding him that his heart was not a killers.

“I’m so sorry this is happening.” His hard edges crumbled and his hands guided my hips closer to his. “I didn’t want you to have to go through this.”

“It’s not your fault.” I rubbed his jaw with my thumbs, brushing his beard and hoping he’d relax into me.

“Yes it is,” he groaned, gripping my wrists in his fingers and moving me away from the window. “Because if they come after me, they’ll come after you too eventually.”

“Buck-,” I started to pull him away from the glass but he turned his back to me.

“It might not be the government, but Hydra will want to get rid of loose ends. Make sure no one knows their secrets.”

“If they come, then we’ll handle this together.”

He turned to me, a hand running through his hair as he shook his head, “You don’t get it. I’ll probably be dead or locked up. We can’t handle any of that together.”

Knotting my hands behind his back to make sure he couldn’t remove me, I looked up at his stormy eyes, “You sound like you’ve already given up.”

“I don’t know what else to do,” he hunched his body into mine, hands settling on my hips again. “Just being here, holding you, puts you in so much danger. And I don’t care what happens to me, they can lock me up or kill me, but I can’t stomach the thought of someone hurting you. But I guess I’ve already dragged you into all this.”

“You didn’t drag me into anything. I walked into this of my own free will.” His eyes lowered to my lips, focusing on how my mouth formed the words. “I love you Bucky, and I’d do all of this over again if it meant I got to be with you.”

He moved quickly, lips crashing against mine before I could even grasp what was happening. Instinct taking over, I gripped his biceps, anchoring my body with his as I kissed him back. Our mouths moved together desperately, wanting to take in everything we could of each other, needing to stretch what felt like our last moment together.

The walls of my apartment vibrated gently, notifying us of a helicopter approaching. His lips stilled under mine, jaw going slack as he opened his mouth against my own. Taking in a deep breath just as I exhaled, he held me close to him, sharing air for the last time. I wished the world could slow or stop. I needed more than just this and he deserved more than two weeks of cautious happiness.

“I love you, (Y/N), and I’m sorry,” he spoke into my cheek before taking his hands from me.

He moved quickly to my hallway, shoulders broadening and spine straightening in preparation for what was coming. “Make it out alive please,” I called to him, feeling heat and tears building behind my eyes.

As his fingers wrapped around my doorknob he hesitated, turning back to look at me. His eyes were apologetic and his brows furrowed. “Stay close to the ground and behind something. Don’t come out until everything sounds normal again.” My heart ached but I nodded at him, gulping down my nerves.

Watching him walk out of my life for the last time felt like losing a piece of me I didn’t know I had. But I didn’t have much time to contemplate my feelings as the sound of glass breaking and bullets hitting metal and plaster reached my ears minutes later. I followed his orders, curling into a ball on the floor of my kitchen, covered by my island and appliances on all sides as more bangs flew through the air. I covered my ears and rocked myself, silently praying he’d survive somehow.

I didn’t realize I was crying until all the fighting stopped, and I knew I was alone.

Tags: @irishdancr24 @fangirlisms-22 @suz-123 @tequilavet @plan3tmadison

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #seb stan #sebastian stan #bladehits2kchallenge #bucky barnes fluff #marvel fanfic #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fic series

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seokjinstopit-blog · 7 years

Text

Maybe It’s You (1)

Word Count: 8.2k

Genre:Fluff and other things I don’t know what to call…. Synopsis: You meet a boy at the park one day….

(Sidenote: Plagiarism is a crime punishable by law, don’t do it kids, this is my original work, so I worked really hard on it, don’t make me sue you haha.)

(Author’s note: AHHH THIS IS MY FIRST STORY, I’M SO NERVOUS, please tell me if you guys liked it or didn’t…😭. Whatever it is I would love to hear some feedback! Oh this is also going to be part of my school project haha, but I truly hope you guys enjoy it! Part two will come out when I have time to write it and when people ask for the next part so I know you guys want to see more hehe, anyways enjoy! Please..? 💙~Ace)

You

Under the harsh radiant sunlight your eyes are engulfed by a blinding light causing you to shuffle in your bed contained within your ebony enclosed room. You pulled the large warm grey blanket over your messy tangled hair hoping it would keep you protected from nature’s wrath. Before you know it you’re rising from your warm queen sized bed, rubbing your eyes intensely, causing some slight pain. You stretched your pajama covered arms out feeling the cool air around you. The sound of birds chirping fused with your wind chime reminded you of some Princess movie. Remembering that food was still left in the fridge from ordering takeout again yesterday, you stood up from your bed examining the room, well organized and put together, just the way you liked things. As your feet created a rhythmic beat with the floor below, you couldn’t help but realize how cold the tiles of your apartment floor was. Your focus was quickly diverted however when you started to wonder how you were going to spend your day. The park perhaps, or maybe visiting a friend’s house? Your thoughts went on into the endless possibilities, and various futures of your day as you made it into the restroom. The laid out wool carpets could be felt under your feet, highly contrasting from the tiles with it’s warmth. After a few seconds your gaze was transferred onto the framed bathroom mirror which caused you to smile, you didn’t look too tired and you felt slightly more confident in yourself today. Normally you would look more like a hot mess who’d been drinking for too long, that was hilarious to you considering the fact that you never touched alcohol in your life. You reached for your electronic toothbrush, adding on some Colgate toothpaste before brushing away, the buzzing sound filling up your restroom. A few moments later you were in the kitchen reaching for the leftover fried chicken and French fries you had. You lifted the crispy oiled chicken thigh up taking a huge bite out of the center, allowing the delicious unhealthy flavor to melt in your mouth. Junk food wasn’t something you’d normally eat but yesterday was special. It was to celebrate the completion of your 2 month project for English class. Your friends had thought that ordering takeout while watching, “White Chicks,” was the way to go so you just agreed. You weren’t the type to argue back anyways, and besides it was quite fun. After the celebration hangout session your friends had helped you clean before leaving. You snap out of your entranced thoughts, appalled that all of the fried chicken that was present mere seconds ago were mere bones. You turned your head rapidly silently pleading that the French fries were still safe but to your dismay the French fries were only remnants of what they once were. It was tasty while it lasted, you sighed standing up to put away your trays into the sink. It was a weekend today so you didn’t have any classes. Spending the rest of the morning relaxing and watching YouTube wouldn’t be such a bad idea. By the time you were finished with that it was already noon. - You closed the door to your apartment locking it carefully, before you placed the keys inside your pocket. Already clothed in winter fitting clothing you began to make your way to the park. Your grey faux fur jacket was keeping you warm, from the cool breezes that were surfing across your skin. Glancing down at the floor you admired your cute tennis shoes, grey and simple. The black sweats you were wearing contrasted with your beige t-shirt hidden under the coat. You’d normally dress a lot more fashionably but it was the weekend, it’s not like anyone would see you anyways. Today would be great for a little stroll to the park you thought. Despite the countless amount of times you’ve been on this path to the park, you were always left in awe at the beauty of your neighborhood. You loved nature, and life itself, if something appeared ugly, there was always some sort of beauty in it. That’s what your mother had taught you. You turned your head taking in a deep breath, the air was fresh provided only by the variety of trees that decorated your neighborhood. From pine trees to oak trees, the city had planted them during Earth day and you were glad you had volunteered to help. Cars zoomed by you, while birds flocked through the clouded gloomy sky. Perhaps it was going to rain, that’d be nice considering it hadn’t rained in almost a week. Your friends had teased you before for being such a “hippie,” as they called it but you didn’t mind. It wasn’t your fault they couldn’t cherish the very home they lived on. You’d try to lecture them about it but doing that was like talking to a wall. And you’re pretty sure the wall would’ve listened better. They were college kids just as you were, what could you do? Kids at this age just wanted to party and do the dirty. You weren’t a nun per say but you certainly didn’t go around hooking up with other guys. All your life you only had one boyfriend, Xavier. He was your boyfriend all of high school until he changed. He became addicted to alcohol, and at his age that was dangerous. Countless times you’d try to convince him to quit, sadly it always led nowhere. He wasn’t the man you’d fallen in love with anymore. He reeked of alcohol all of the time, and was always tired when you saw him. It didn’t matter to you if he drank ever so often but he didn’t, it was every, single, day. You decided that breaking it off with him was the best thing you could do. If you couldn’t save him, at least you could save yourself as selfish as that sounded. By distancing yourself from him, you found a sort of peace. But at the same time your heart was broken, it was too late, Xavier was never going to be the man you fell in love with again, and you were never going to be the same again. After Xavier you grew skeptical of trusting people, if you couldn’t trust them at least you could trust the world. The beauty of the world was a comfort to you. You weren’t ignorant to all of the cruelty and disasters of it of course. It’s just you’d rather not focus on that, you could of course do the same for people, which you did. But it was difficult when it came to people becoming a potential love interest or a close friend. To sum it up you were a complicated girl, you’d probably end up being single until death and own 70 cats. Honestly you didn’t mind that, having cats wouldn’t be so bad, they would keep you company, and unlike people. They wouldn’t break your heart. You broke from your memories when you noticed you’d made it to the front of the park. The park looked like any park, simple and usually peaceful. With your eyes fixated on a bench in the corner, you quickly shuffled towards it, your shoes clattering with the hard cement below. You placed your hands in your pockets before you sat on the clean polished wood. Your irises darted around picking up the landscape surrounding you. The green slides were unoccupied, while the rusty black swings blew gently in the wind. Saturday’s were never popular days at the park, in fact most days weren’t popular, kids nowadays were always so glued to their devices. You let out a loud sigh examining the rest of the park. The empty sandbox, check. The lone water fountain in the corner? Check. The unused monkey bars, and check. Everything else? Exactly the same. You didn’t hate the park, in fact you loved it. It was a great place to relax and admire the sky. Without warning, your attention was suddenly caught when a sound of a pigeon cooing rang in your ear. That’s strange, pigeons barely ever showed up to the park. At least not when you were here. Maybe you were just scary looking. You stood up, following the amusing sound. The sound led you to a person sitting on the park’s grass hill a few meters away from you. On top of the grass hill, you spotted a pale, pink haired Asian boy, around your age you assume. He doesn’t spot you yet thankfully. Your vision was glued on the beautiful boy in front of you, the wind sweeping his light pink bangs upwards. He chuckled, causing you some slightly confusion, before your attention briefly transferred onto the pigeon on his sweater covered arm. His other hand was directly in front of the pigeon’s beak, filled with some type of seed. The boy seemed unfrightened as the single pigeon pecked into his palm rapidly causing him to chuckle again. Your eyes returned to the boy once more taking his features in. He wasn’t in any way masculine looking, he looked rather boyish in your opinion, kind of like one of those K-pop guys your best friend always obsessed over, claiming she would have “Oppa’s babies.” If you had to describe him he looked pretty, you’d never thought you’d be the person to call a boy pretty, but there’s a first for everything, right? He’s dressed in a grey plaid pullover sweater, paired with some distressed black skinny jeans. His shoes were tennis shoes just like your’s but instead of being grey, his were black and white. You stepped closer as if you had a magnetic attraction to him, and for some reason the pigeon flies away. Probably just finished its meal you thought. His eyes met your’s now, despite being approximately two meters apart you could feel his gaze piercing through you, as if questioning your very being. He rose dusting off the grass from his jeans and sweater. You took this as a signal to step closer to him, your feet sinking into the grassy terrain. You left about a feet of distance between you and him before you spoke, “Um hey there, I noticed you were feeding a pigeon,” you add in a small chuckle at the end as waves of regret washed over you. What were you even saying? What were you doing? Attempting to flirt? Or just a bird enthusiast, yes that was totally the reason. A girl who can’t trust in people is suddenly a bird enthusiast. His cheeks flushed a light pink, made even more evident by his pale skin tone, he opened his mouth as if to reply, but nothing comes out. It’s in this moment that you notice a small scar on his neck. It looked like a tiny slash indented into his skin. He quickly covered the spot, his expression darkening, “It’s from a fall,” his tone a lot harsher than you had expected, “I’m sorry but I have to go now,” he fakes a smile before turning his back towards you. What the heck….what happened? Did you somehow offend him unknowingly? You were always a good if not a decent to talk to, why had he just marched off like that. A sudden feeling of angst consumes you, who was this pink haired boy? And what did he go through to get that scar? Why did you even care? Endless questions began to form in your mind as the boy’s figure shrank with the distance, an ominous aura following him as rain suddenly begins to fall.

Him

As he walked away from you, cold raindrops trickled down his cheeks, tracing his face as if he were a canvas, which he’d been before. His face turned facing the dark sky filled with gloominess. A feeling of melancholy presented itself to him, as he recalled a day like this. The day he ran away from her. Strangely enough, the boy had forgotten that he’d met you just a few seconds earlier, falling into his past memories once more.

1 year ago

She raised her hand up, prompting him to flinch slightly, before she quickly slapped him across the cheek causing the sound to echo through the empty dining room, “I told you not to buy me these pathetic useless things didn’t I?!” his girlfriend threw his present onto the floor without a care, letting her high heels click against the tile floor as she walked away. He fell onto the floor, as if his body had collapsed from disappointment. His cheek still burning as his arms reached out, wrapping his arms around the white teddy bear with the words, “I love you,” written on the red heart the teddy bear held. After a few hours of staying on the floor the boy’s body was growing even colder, he tightened his hold on the bear, his eyes glossed over as he fights a sob, “I’m sorry Stella….I’m sorry,” were the only words uttered by him that night. He didn’t sob, nor did he cry, because if he did, Stella would abandon him forever. About a week had passed since the incident and the boy was still as disappointed as he’d been a week prior. He went through his life mindlessly, school became a nuisance to him, even eating became unnecessary, and his love life began to slowly crumble. His mind was eating away at him, everything he had believed once morphed into inner demons ready to destroy him. One particular night, Stella came home very intoxicated, her heavy leather coat shifted from side to side as her heels stumbled loudly against the tile floor. She started screaming for her boyfriend as if she was in intense pain, and instantly he came running out to her, his face filled with panic. However when he truly saw what was happening his heart broke, he could tell straight away what was happening noting his girlfriend’s smeared makeup, her unbalanced posture, and her bloodshot eyes. She was drunk yet again, this had been the fifth time in a row this week. Stella had been drinking her heart out at the bar every night with her friends from what he knew, he’d been extremely worried about her. Was this perhaps his fault? She suddenly straightened up her stance, a evil smirk plastered across her face, “You’ve been cheating on me with some b**** haven’t you?!” The boy backed away slowly, feeling the cold tile floor against his bare feet, he was startled by how upset Stella was, but she was wrong, he’d never cheat on her, why would he? His face morphed into a state of panic, chills running through his body, when he noticed that she was holding an extremely sharp piece of glass against her acrylic nails, she laughed as her heels got closer to the boy, who’s body had collapsed on the floor from the shock. His heart was palpating so quickly that it was all he heard for a while, everything else she said to him became muffled. The boy wanted desperately for someone to save him right now, anyone, he begged hopelessly for some sort of miracle. But that miracle never came. He couldn’t move, the fear instilled in him, but he was beginning to hear her voice again, hoarse from the alcohol, “Now be a good boy and accept this and I’ll forgive you, oh and don’t scream, it annoys me,” she lifted the shard of glass bending down slightly so that she would reach him. The boy’s voice was stuck in his throat, he wanted to scream, to run, to disappear, but he couldn’t because he was too broken to. After what felt like forever to the boy, he realized that there was a sudden intense stinging on his throat, he moved his pale fingers, trying to cover the intense feeling of pain. All his fingers did however, was worsen the stinging, his fingers coating in the warm blood while a new color began spreading across his t-shirt, the color of regret. He pulled his hand away from his neck, taking a glance at it, it was painted over with the color of crimson blood. The boy’s gaze turned upward only to be welcomed by the horrified look on his girlfriend’s face, as though she’d seen a ghost, and perhaps in this instant she did. Perhaps this was his ghost, bidding her farewell. He was too lost in the pain and onslaught of thoughts that he couldn’t think straight. The shard of glass, coated with his blood had been dropped on the floor, mere inches away from his reach. The boy pushed himself off the coldness of the floor, his body heavy and his vision blurring. His eyes darted to the sharp piece of glass and again to her, Stella saw this and screamed loudly, her voice echoing through their empty apartment. This shocked the boy, that she would imply such a thing. Did she really think that he would do what she did to him? How horrid. The boy started to run towards the door, his neck in agonizing pain, as drops of his blood painted the white tile floor. His cold hands began to fidget with the door lock, while Stella sat on the couch in a state of stasis, when he had finally managed to unlock the door, he pushed it open, running outside. His bare feet new to the feeling of the concrete floor full of pebbles which he felt under his toes. The cold night air, blew against him, causing his cut to burn prompting a loud hiss from the boy. The bright moon, greeted him, and for a second he felt a tiny part of himself relax to have been able to escape from her, until suddenly a burst of pain ran through his head, his body falling against the floor with a loud thud. His black hair was soaking up the blood that was gushing out of the boy’s head, while his neck kept its constant stream of blood, now dripping on the dark concrete floor. Above him, against the light of the moon stood Stella, her face resembling a demon, as she clung onto the broken glass beer bottle tightly. The other half broke when she hit the boy on the head, he wasn’t dead, she just wanted to knock him out. That’s all. He was going to hurt her if she didn’t, yes that’s right he’s a jerk. Stella’s mind began to fill with toxic thoughts, supporting her actions, but that didn’t last very long when the sound of a siren pierced through the night. The boy later awoke several days later in a hospital bed, his entire body bandaged and wrapped, to be informed that Stella had been arrested, the nurse had said that someone in the neighborhood had called the police after hearing a scream coming from the apartment. She furthered explained to him, but her words became inaudible to the boy as he was taking in the reality. Stella was gone, the person who had been with him for all of those years (3), she was truly gone. Now he had no one, he knew how foolish he was, how dumb he seemed, how broken he would forever be, but he couldn’t stop the stream of tears from rushing out from his reddened eyes. And before he knew it, he was sobbing hard, as the nurse comforted him. She thought however that he was sobbing because of what had happened to him, and not Stella. The boy stayed in the hospital for a total of 9 months, recovering from the near death experience as the doctors described it, it had been a miracle he survived they said. During his time in the hospital, the boy confessed many things to the doctor, how Stella would usually hurt him physically, and never apologize for it. The doctors were mortified listening to his interactions with her, his experiences which he described calmly. The doctor’s one day asked the boy if he knew that he was being abused, to which he replied he did although he didn’t let it bother him, because Stella was all he had. Another patient who overheard his conversation with the doctors one day asked him why he didn’t tell his family, “I don’t have one anymore,” the boy would answer, his voice shaky as if he’d burst to tears any second. When he finally left the hospital after 9 months, the boy was a new person. He finally after all of those years acknowledged that he had been abused for the 3 whole years he had spent with Stella, and that she was a horrible person. Despite his gratitude for Stella for taking him in after his parents had passed, he could never forgive her for what she had done, or for shattering his heart. He wasn’t going to be her canvas anymore, he wasn’t going to let anyone paint his body with pain anymore. He wasn’t going to die foolishly every single day anymore, he wouldn’t need to hide the bruises on his arms, or body anymore, he was going to live every single day as if it was his last.

Present day

By the time the boy had snapped out of his entranced state, he was already home in his apartment, drenched from the rain. He quickly headed into the restroom, showering and changing into a new pair of clothes before he sank down onto his king sized bed. The clothes that he left in the laundry basket messily for a week now, should’ve been folded sooner, the sink full of dishes needed to be washed, and he also was in a dire need to buy more groceries. When he lived with Stella, he would always finish any housework that needed to be done as soon as possible, but now that he lived alone, he was a different person. He was still somewhat shy as always, still as kind and caring, but what he wasn’t was trustful. His thoughts drifted to the park where he met you, an innocent like beauty radiating from you unlike anything he had ever seen. It was much different from Stella who always had more of a femme fatale aura about her, while you seemed so pure and innocent. He couldn’t pinpoint what it was about you that made him so curious, he blushed when he first saw you looking at him. You reminded him of the innocence he had back then, and lost in that small fragment of time it felt as if he had fallen in love with you in that very instant. That is until he was reminded of his scar, he didn’t blame you of course, many before you had questioned what it was before, and the boy would always say it was from a fall. But for some strange reason, when you asked him, he couldn’t lie, a feeling of remorse arose inside of him as his memories brought up past pains, regrets, and destructions something he had wished to bury deep in his heart. The boy’s thoughts trailed back to you, and for some reason he desperately needed to see you again, even if for a tiny bit, perhaps seeing you once more would heal his heart a little. The boy laid on his bed, his eyes closing as he muttered a silent prayer, hoping this time someone would perhaps save him.

You

You pulled out the key to your door, from your pocket desperately, as you tried to escape from the rain, even if you loved the rewards rain brought to the world, you weren’t exactly a fan of getting sick or freezing from the rain. A click alerts you that you’ve successfully unlocked the door, you stepped in drying your feet on the mat below you. For a few seconds you stomped and scraped your tennis shoes against the black mat before you took them off placing them in your well organized shoe rack. You skim the rack, as you take off your white socks, only 3 pairs rested on them, a pair of sparkly silver high heels, your grey tennis shoes, and a pair of snow boots. These had all been gifts from your friends excluding the tennis shoes you purchased yourself. They said you needed more shoes, comparing you to the girls at your school who had around a dozen pairs each. You were quite amused when one of your friends had purchased snow boots for you since it only snowed during winter here, and when it did you rarely left your house. It was winter break and you’d rather stay warm. Although you started to realize that it was actually quite helpful when you felt like taking walks to admire the neighborhood covered in white snow. Christmas for you wasn’t really that special, it was as a kid but as you grew older it didn’t hold as much meaning. Maybe if you had someone to spend Christmas with then perhaps it would mean more to you, and by someone you meant a love interest. It’s not like you didn’t have people to spend Christmas with, you did. Your friends always wanted to come over to watch chick-flicks,gossip about their crushes, and finally stuff their faces with your food. But you wanted something more this year, but who were you kidding, you were a girl with trust issues who had more chances at getting plowed by a snow plower than falling in love again. You shake your head at your foolish hopes, psshh, love, you? Not anytime soon. You jogged into your bedroom, heading towards your closet, you paused as you looked for an outfit. When you had found it you started to strip yourself of your clothing and began changing into another one of your warm pair of pajamas. When you finally did, you looked at yourself in the black framed mirror resting on the floor of your bedroom, your cute Easter bunny pajamas looked childish but you didn’t mind, it had been a gift from your Mom. She was always worried about you so she sent you gifts as much as she possibly could. You had asked her to stop, feeling bad that she had to spend so much money on you for these gifts, but she didn’t care, she told you that she needed to take care of her only child and that it made her feel happy to buy them for you. You couldn’t argue with that, you wanted the best for your Mom who had worked so hard for you all of her life, she was a single mom who lived with 3 dogs, and was the friendliest lady anyone would ever meet. For some reason the word friendly brought another person to mind, a person who wasn’t exactly friendly at the park…that boy. What had happened to him exactly, you were curious to find out, but you don’t think he would just randomly spill all of his life stories to you. You would need to somehow befriend him, maybe tomorrow again at the park you thought as you sank down onto your comfortable bed. You weren’t in Iove with him but he somehow attracted your attention. And you wanted to find out more about this boy. Like what was his name, how did he get that scar, who was he as a person. You couldn’t stop coming up with various questions and played out scenarios of how your encounter would go until your eyes finally drifted shut. You wake up to the blaring sound of your alarm, ugh, it was morning again and you still felt tired. You turned on your bed feeling the warmth of your blanket, maybe a little more sleep wouldn’t hurt. “BEEP BEEP BEEP!” Your alarm scares the living daylights out of you once again, you reach for it turning it off before checking the time on your phone. What?! 11:30 A.M.? You slept that much? You quickly hopped out of your bed, rushing to eat and get ready to head to the park once again. - You felt a burst of excitement surge through your body as you stood in front of the park’s gate. Would you see him again? No, this wasn’t for him…you um…had to go look at the grass on the hill! Which the boy sat on…No! This was for the pigeon you saw yesterday! That the boy fed…Okay so what if this was about him? You were a strong independent women, as your once single friend once wisely said, “I’m am an independent women! I ain’t need nobody in my life! I ain’t need no man! You don’t either!” Until she wasn’t single anymore. You felt yourself chuckle at the memory, as your feet began to create a rhythm with the sidewalk pavement of the park. Again today, there was no one present, no kids, no adults, just you and the sunny sky, and hopefully him as well. You didn’t fully trust the boy yet considering how he reacted last time but your interest in him guided you to the grass hill once more. You were a few meters away, standing in the same spot you were before when you first laid your eyes on him. And there he was, at the same location he had been last time. He was wearing a white oversized pullover sweater with black distressed skinny jeans, his features as gentle and friendly as you remembered as he laid on the grass hill sprawled out on his back, as if attempting to make a snow angel. He didn’t notice you, instead he seemed to be staring at the blue cloudy sky, you suddenly see a smile form on his face, causing you to admire how cute he looked. You turned your head towards the sky to see if there was anything which had caused his smile, and then you saw it. A cloud shaped like what appeared to be a sheep, maybe he had a thing for animals?

Him

The boy felt himself smile once more, as the sheep cloud passed by. Goodbye Mr.Sheep, he thought. He always found a fascination with animals after he’d been in the hospital. During his time there, doctors would let him visit a therapy room full of animals, usually filled a variety of dogs. They always comforted him and he felt warm when he got to play with them. Soon after when he was released from the hospital, he visited a petting zoo. He met a sheep there which he really liked, the sheep’s name was Henry, and the boy loved petting Henry. The wool against his palm felt calming somehow, so soft and gentle. He realized how childish his fascination for animals was, so he usually kept that fascination to himself. If he ever had enough free time after college and work he would visit a pet store, sometimes even a petting zoo. His main reasons for visiting these places however were to comfort his loneliness and to cope with his past. Even if he hated to admit it, without Stella he got extremely lonely, but thinking of her only made his heart ache even more. He was slowly recovering from the hell prison he escaped, but it would take a lot more time for him to slowly become normal again. A thought occurred to him remembering the girl, he did show up to the park again after all hoping he would see you. And at that like magic, you stood over him, causing a shadow over his face. “Hello, there pink haired boy..” you said nervously, as you clutched onto your navy blue backpack tightly which caused the boy’s eyebrows to furrow. The boy propped his arms as he pushed himself up to sit, his pink bangs falling messily against his forehead, “What’s in the backpack?” the boy couldn’t hide his curiosity as to why you were holding onto it so tightly. At that the boy started to blush, he hadn’t realized how open he was being with you when he dismissed you last time so harshly. He felt bad about it, so he hoped that he would be able to apologize today. The boy’s gaze caught sight of your outfit, again today you were dressed extremely casual, with an oversized black zip up sweater and a pair of black sweatpants, paired with the same tennis shoes you had yesterday. You looked away nervously when you noticed his staring, but the boy responded with a smile. He loved how casual and comfortable you looked, it made him feel closer to you somehow despite being strangers. If you had dressed fancy, he wouldn’t have been able to look at you properly without being a nervous wreck. The boy’s cheeks heated up, which prompted him to avoid staring at you for too long, he was a shy person in general so he didn’t have the confidence to say much to you until he felt comfortable enough. You noticed his shyness immediately because it was so different from your ex, his shyness was adorable for some reason, but it’s not like you would admit that to him. You took off your heavy backpack placing it beside you, as you sunk down next to the boy. The grassy texture could be felt even in your sweatpants, but you didn’t seem to mind as much as the boy did as he scooted a few inches away from you. He felt his heart starting to beat faster you were so close to him, he was going crazy, his heart was fluttering over a stranger. “So umm, what’s your name?” you began the shakiness in your voice apparent, as if you were giving a speech to your entire class, something you hated. The boy slowly looked back at you, now that a few inches were separating you both, he felt less shy, “My-my name is J-Jimin,” instantly his cheeks flared up, embarrassed by his nervousness and stuttering. He noticed your bright smile as you nodded, your simple action only intensified the heat he was feeling on his cheeks, “That’s a nice name,” you responded intrigued by the boy’s adorable shyness, “my name is (Y/N).” The boy hugged his legs with his sweater covered arms hesitant to respond, a few seconds passed before he finally cleared his throat to respond, “T-that’s a pretty name..” he hid his face burying it in his arms. Why were you making him so nervous? Was it because you complimented his name? Or maybe it was because you were so close, or may- “You know you’re really handsome Jimin,” you said interrupting his thoughts, sounding confident for the first. His heart raced in his chest, as Jimin heard the loud drumming of his heart against his chest. Why were you so nice to him, he wondered. You were only strangers after all, “T-thank you,” he lifted his head from his arms, a rosy pink color decorating his squishy looking cheeks. You suddenly remembered the pigeon from yesterday, “Hey Jimin, what was happening with you and that pigeon yesterday, do you feed pigeons often?” the boy’s head quickly snapped in your direction his eyes widened slightly as memories of his harsh response to you came back to him. “I-I’m sorry about yesterday,” his eyes were glued to the floor, as his index finger began drawing tiny circles on the grass, “I just had bad memories come back to me.” You laugh loudly, startling him, “I wasn’t mad or anything don’t worry,” Jimin exhales loudly your response easing him, “Are you okay now?” The boy simple nods his heart feeling lighter now that you’ve told him your feelings, he’d been nervous about it coming to the park, afraid that he perhaps rubbed you the wrong way. “And yes I do feed pigeons,” Jimin smiled brightly, his nervousness less apparent now, “The one you saw yesterday was my favorite pigeon, his name is Mr. Pigeon.” Your head turned slightly looking into his dark obsidian irises, he held his stare with you for a second before his head turned looking downwards, “That’s so cute, how you name animals and all,” you noticed his ears getting slightly pink at your remark, which caused you to feel warm inside. Perhaps he was a nature lover like yourself?-Both you and Jimin’s conversation went on for about an hour before he had to go home to do his chores he claimed. As his feet felt the warmth of his carpet floor he thought of you again, you made his day today, and he secretly hoped to see you again tomorrow. You felt special somehow, and spending time with you today mended his broken heart slightly. He wasn’t in love with you just yet, but he was sure that if he kept seeing you he would eventually fall for you, something he was afraid of, but also excited about.

You

You: Are you coming to the park again today? You wrote the text smiling to yourself, as you placed your phone back in your pocket, locking the front door to your apartment. You and Jimin had been meeting at the park for around 3 months now almost every single day, some days you had homework to do while other days he was busy with work or school. But seeing himself everyday somehow became a common thing, your friends had found out about it and teased you for having a crush on the boy, which you admitted you were starting to develop but it’s not like he returned your feelings so it didn’t matter, you just enjoyed his company. Although it would be nice if he felt the same way about you. You also somehow managed to convince him around 2 months ago to give you his phone number to you, he was hesitant about it but finally gave in when you constantly bugged him about it. You giggled remembering the incident.

2 months ago

“C’mon give me your number..” you whined, a puppy eyes look plastered on your face. He blushed looking away, as he scooted further away from you on the park bench. After one month of meeting him you were a lot more comfortable now, he was different from all of the guys you’ve met before, he slowly earned your trust with his kindness and you never regretted meeting him for a second. You scooted closer to him trying to get a better response from him, you felt the coldness of the bench against your thighs, today you stupidly decided that booty shorts were the way to go. The weather was cloudy this morning, you assumed it would get hot for some reason which prompted your decision but instead it didn’t, it stayed cloudy the whole day. You shivered against the wooden bench catching the boy’s attention, without saying a word he removed his black zip up jacket handing it to you, “Put it over your thighs or you’ll catch a cold,” his eyes avoided you as his ears reddened.” You smiled at his kindness and cuteness retrieving the jacket and placing it over your thighs, “Thank you for that,” he simply nods trying his hardest to fight back a smile. “So can I have your number now?” your straightforwardness surprised him, causing him to look in your direction. You looked beautiful again today, but he was to shy to tell you that despite how close you two had gotten in the past month. Jimin finally nodded, reading his number to you at lightning speed. Your mouth drops open as you unlock your phone heading to the contact page, “Wait wait! Slow down, say it again…”“I don’t wanna..” he responded mischievously as if he was a child, Jimin felt his heart warm up as he admired how less nervous he’d gotten around you. “Please..! What if I get stranded somewhere and I need you to come help me from getting eaten from a pack of hyenas?” At your exaggerated lie he slowly reads his number to you, feeling nervous that the impossible future you just named could be possible, he cared about you after all. You added his number smiling to yourself, “Done, thank you!” He nodded once again, his heart fluttering slightly as pulled out his phone reading your text, “Just added your number, Hi!” Jimin turned to smile at you, and you returned the gesture, as you both felt the cool breeze of the afternoon. Maybe Jimin was going to be even more special to you in the future somehow, but as for now you were happy being by his side. You two chatted for a while after that, watching the sunset together before the night came to a close, which meant that you had to part ways with him. Both of your least favorite part about spending time together. “I’ll see you again tomorrow alright?” you smiled back reassuring him, he nodded giving you a thumbs up before you both head your separate ways. Maybe someday, you would both head the same way, maybe someday you would not have to part any longer, maybe someday you would fall in love with him, maybe someday he would tell you he loves you too, and maybe someday he would be your’s.

Present

You shook your head, snapping out of your warm memories, you shouldn’t be so delusional right? Your weren’t even if saw you that way, for all you knew he saw you as a close friend. You began pacing down the street in your grey tennis shoes paired with some blue skinny jeans and a white flannel. Today for some odd reason you didn’t want to look like a hot mess, maybe something big was going to happen if you dressed to impress. Maybe he would finally confess to you! You cackled loudly, as you continued making it to the park entranced by your crazy fantasies of Jimin. A thought suddenly occurred to you, his scar, you never did find out what it meant. Judging from his first reaction you didn’t bring it up, but maybe now that you were closer to him, maybe he would react differently.

Jimin

The bitter alcohol burned down his throat, causing him to cough slightly. He felt the grass under his fingers as he shuffled backwards slightly on the grass hill. The cold air brushed his pink bangs upwards, before it slowly fell back into place. His dark irises embraced the sky’s sadness, it’s features painted over with a coat of darkness. Clouds decorated the sky, as the bright moon glowed above the boy, allowing him to be comforted slightly. But that wasn’t enough, he felt lonely, Jimin took another gulp of the alcohol, placing the bottle beside him as he exhaled loudly. Tears began to stream down the boy’s face as memories flowed back to him. Today was suppose to be another anniversary with Stella, but that wasn’t the case anymore. He’d been through so much, so much time has passed, he’d met you and slowly became closer to you. Yet, it ached so much, his heart felt the void that hadn’t left him. He didn’t want to be with Stella again, he wanted someone like you, someone so kind and pure. Someone who could save him this time, someone he wouldn’t be afraid of, someone, perhaps fear someone would be you. Even if it was the alcohol speaking, he didn’t care, he wanted to be your’s even if for a little, he wanted to experience your love for him. Just hearing you tell him you loved him would’ve been enough, he never heard those words from Stella for more than 3 months. In the beginning she was kind, she seemed like she actually loved him, but suddenly she changed. The boy clasped his hands together as he broke into a sob, his voice breaking into an emotional cry for help. Help from his past, help from himself, help from his fears. Maybe you were going to be like Stella, maybe you would also change, but he was willing to risk that. Because maybe he loved you, and even if he was foolish, he wanted to be truly happy again. The days he had spent with you were the happiest in his life, it made him feel special, it gave him everything he never had. So he would give you something you never had, his story, his life, himself. And the boy wished with all of his heart that you would accept him, all of him. The boy’s sobbing was interrupted by a gentle patting he felt against his back, he turned to a warm face greeting him, a smile so warm and precious, a person so special and dear to him. That person was you.

You

You continued patting Jimin, making sure to stay silent, his sobs growing weaker now that you were here. You were really confused when you saw him on the grass hill, he didn’t reply to your text, so you assume he wouldn’t be here. But on top of that Jimin had been sobbing when you saw him, you couldn’t stop your feet from running towards him, as if you desperately needed to comfort him. You suddenly noticed the alcohol beside him, causing your heart to break slightly, you knew Jimin was never the type of person to drink, he even admitted to you before that he never had before. So why so suddenly? Why was he drinking? Why was he crying? You had so many questions, but you were hesitant to ask him in his state. You bent your knees down, sitting beside him on the grass hill. Your black scarf blew with the wind, sending a slight chill down your entire body. The black trench coat you had chosen to wear today kept your body warm, while the black leggings accompanied by your grey tennis shoes kept your lower body warm. Your head turned to him slowly, your gaze fixated on the fragile boy in front of you. His navy blue pullover hoodie was paired with his usual choice of distressed black skinny jeans, he also wore black tennis shoes, but what you noticed most on him was not his clothing choices but rather the sadness he was wearing. It cloaked him in a dark aura, a mysterious tragedy, the boy remained silent, his reddened eyes embracing the moon. Jimin’s tears were beginning to dry up slowly, but you couldn’t help but feel saddened by the tear stains still painted on his pale face. The moon’s light revealed the contours of his face to you, his soft and gentle features captured you. “Hi there…” the boy whispered, keeping his gaze away from you, the sadness in his voice was unfamiliar to you considering he was a usually bright person. “Hey..” you responded, taking in the awkward atmosphere between the two of you, you looked away from the boy’s face trying to not make him uncomfortable. Jimin quickly turned his head towards you, his bangs blowing word with the gentle wind, “I’m sorry, I didn’t think you’d be coming today,” his tone more casual now, “I left my phone at home because I wanted to be alone.” His gaze dropped to the grass, as he traced small circles into it, something you picked up was a nervous habit he had. “It’s okay,” you began, feeling yourself smile, “I didn’t think you’d be here either honestly.” The boy opened his mouth as if to respond, but shut it, quickly as he kept his gaze on the floor, his fingers drawing endless circles onto the terrain. “Are you alright?” was all you could say, your voice felt constricted somehow as if you were asking a forbidden question. Jimin nodded noticing your nervousness, he looked up at your face, his irises gently piercing into your’s, “Now that you’re here I am,” he paused sighing as his gaze returned to floor below, “It’s just that today is a bad day for me.” His voice grows solemn as he fights his aching heart, trying his best to tell you his story, “Today was the anniversary of Stella and I.” He paused looking for a reaction, but you were completely clueless to the pain he had experienced. His gentle cat like eyes captured you seeking a response, for a signal for him to continue. You knew about Stella being his ex, but he never spoke of her much which led you to assume that it had just been a bad breakup, “Oh I’m sorry,” you responded, unsure of what else to say as you felt a strange sadness radiating from the boy. “Don’t be, it’s not your fault, I’m sorry you had to see me like this,” Jimin looked at you regretfully, afraid that you would hate him, the boy knew how much you hated alcohol but despite that he couldn’t stop himself from attempting to numb the pain. You rubbed his denim covered thigh reassuringly, the boy jumped back slightly, this was the first time you had ever touched him physically. As strange as it was, you both never even hugged before, despite how desperately you wanted to. “Jimin can I tell you something?” the boy simply nodded, a curious look in his eyes awaiting what you wanted to ask him, “Will you let me love you?”

#jimin #jimin fluff #bangtan fluff #bts fluff #bts scenarios #jimin scenario #fluff

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vminity21 · 4 years

Text

Wishes instead of Weeds | jhs [Sneak Peek]

Pairing: Teacher!Hoseok x Waitress!Reader, ExBoyfriend!Jeongguk X Waitress!Reader

Word Count: 4.7k

Genre: angst/fluff/soft

Warning(s): angst involving heartbreak, some language used, mention of alcohol, potential smut

Summary: After an unexpected breakup, you find yourself living day by day wanting nothing more than to be happy again. Though your best friend M and your co-workers bring a smile to your face, the restaurant’s regular, Jung Hoseok, happens to be a new light that shines in your life even though you don’t realize it at first. Wishes instead of Weeds, a story about a broken heart that gets mended back together all from a mere wish on a cloud of dandelion seeds.

The corner of a faded picture is pressed between your fingertips before thumbing away at some clustered debris covering his face. “Shit,” you whisper between grit teeth, letting your jeans slip from your lap to lightly plop upon the ground. Laundry has been finished hence why the discovery of the picture being found in the pocket brings a wince of pain considering it’s one of the few memories you have of the two of you. Your grip loosens to where the photo sways landing facedown on the table, your palms sliding along your face and into your hair, sniffling back whatever tears threatening to spill down your cheeks.

Jeongguk left you without any warning.

Absolutely nothing.

Jeongguk never had anything to be sorry for in your mind, until now. With a long, shaky exhale, you use the hem of your sleeve to dry your face, gradually standing to your feet with the intention of putting away the folded laundry to then arranging for bed. Due to your promotion, you’re thankful to discover that you will be making enough money to at least pay the bills for the apartment; with the sudden change of being alone that was one of your top concerns, also not wanting your mother to find out knowing she would send you money immediately. You want to avoid the confession of the breakup, too, because you do not want to feel like a burden to anyone, even if you may have felt that way to him, though you’re not sure if you will ever know. Robotically, the next hour achingly completes before you crowd under the sheets, hoping that your day tomorrow will bring you at least a tad bit of strength.

Strong scents of coffee and bacon greet your nose as it does every morning when you arrive at your job that you happen to call your second home. A family member of yours owns the diner that daintily sits off the side of the road surrounded by a recently mowed lawn, and rustic flowerpots gifted by people of the town where a florist visits to ensure the plants will be watered. You’ve always loved the aura of the area, especially with the way people seemed to treat each other, and despite your title being a waitress, which Jeongguk’s parents used to shame until he had stood up for you, you do receive good benefits here. Patting your chest frantically, the rectangular piece of your nametag is felt which relieves you that you hadn’t forgot about it this morning, bringing enough distraction from the inner heartache you’re trying to suppress.

Clocking in, you briskly scoop up a notepad, helping your co-workers with the breakfast rush; you were promoted to being the assistant manager since you’ve been waitressing here for many years, and thankfully your shifts end at 5:30 pm when your relative takes over, giving you the evenings to yourself. You’re mainly responsible for keeping the shelves stocked- placing orders for whatever supplies are needed as well as handling the drawers to ensure the money count is accurate. When you notice one of the employees, Park Jimin is waiting one of the only tables left once the crowd minimizes momentarily, you saunter to the kitchen to check on the chefs since you unfortunately missed greeting them this morning.

“Ready as I’ll ever be!” You reply, squeezing his large shoulder, “What about you?”

“Always,” he chuckles, taking tongs to lightly press the meat harder onto the crackling grill. Another chef, Kim Seokjin, is working on shoving pans of biscuits into the oven, then turning to slice some fruit set off to the side while the dough bakes. It’s your number one priority when given the chance upon starting your shift, is checking on every employee to ensure they’re okay. When all give positive answers, you shuffle behind one of the main counters when first walking into the building to see if any customers need refills. The ding of the door alerts you once you pour a mug of coffee for an individual sitting off to the side, your gaze averting to recognize the tall, thin figure of the restaurant’s regular, Jung Hoseok, hands cuddled into the pockets of his coat, swiftly stepping to the same seat at the counter he occupies every single morning.

A small grin tugs at the corner of your lips, “Long time no see,” you tease, watching the brief tilt of his head that follows a contagious smile, “You want your usual?”

“Are you okay?” Your best friend, Monica, who you normally call M, asks once you’re a quarter of the way into cleaning.

“Ye-yeah. Yeah,” you stutter, trying to ignore the evident humiliation planted within your expression. M investigates the way your widened eyes have yet to calm, seeing right through your reply.

You meet her eyes before nodding in defeat, your quivering chin being enough to tell her that you really haven’t been okay, though she’s unaware of why. The warmth of outside is enough to soothe your skin, your feet determined to make it to one of the picnic tables located on the side of the restaurant where gratefully not a soul happens to be inhabiting. In frustration, you’ve done well masking the truth underlying your hollow smile, or so you thought, but dropping onto the bench, you bury your face in your hands blocking out the crying you fight to hold back.

“Hey…” A tender voice belonging to that of a male springs your gaze up from your stiff hands, shoulders slumping in relief to see it’s Hoseok, though concern clouds his almond eyes.

“I’m- I’m sorry. I hope all that noise didn’t disturb your breakfast,” you apologize, clearly embarrassed, though your grin doesn’t reach your eyes.

Hoseok’s lips part, “No, not at all, in fact, I came to see if you were okay,”

“Okay,” he purses his lips, “well I hope you don’t mind, but I’m going to sit here until you’re okay,” he says, swinging his thin leg over the seat across from you.

“But- but I am okay-” Obviously caught off guard, Hoseok holds an index finger up to stop you,

“Your nametag is upside down.”

Oh shit, you gasp, eyes widening in horror because the name of the person you do not want to speak of- his favorite is French toast which you accidentally wrote on Hoseok’s order without even realizing it. “Oh my gosh, Hoseok,” you pinch the bridge of your nose in shame, “I am so, so sorry. I can’t believe I did that,”

“My point,” he leans forward holding your eyes where worry for your wellbeing hasn’t diminished, “[Y/N]? Are you okay?”

“Hello, this Jeongguk, sorry I couldn’t take your call-”

“Damnit!” you wail, hanging up abruptly, tossing your phone into the passenger side. That’s the first you’ve heard him speak rounding up to a month, and though no one is watching, your hands hover over your face where you choke out breathy sobs, wishing you never attempted to call. He must think you’re weak, you torture yourself with mindless insecurities, but still, where is he? Which then sparks the next question, do you really want to know? What feels to make matters worse is how you profusely wish he was just here. Right next to you where you used to think he belonged- holding your hand in his especially on nights where you needed his comfort most. None of this makes any sense, because where in the world did you go wrong? Why does this all make you feel like this is completely your fault? What if he ever says you didn’t try hard enough? What if-?

“Hello,” you wince at the stuffy noise of your voice hoping M doesn’t notice.

“You are the nosiest, inquisitive, you-better-tell-me-now-before-I-cut-you, woman I have ever known, and yet you didn’t ask one- Hey, are you okay?”

“Not until you get your ass over here,”

“But-”

“Yoongi’s,” she coos, her eyes averting to timidly browsing at the open bottle of red wine.

“Ah, Yoongi? How cute.”

“Oh, shut up,” she pours the both of you a glass, the two of you making cheers before taking a few sips, letting the strong taste pool on your tongue before swallowing.

“Now,” you say, setting your glass down for a moment, “Confess.”

“You’re the first person he thought of,” you remark.

“I’m sorry, just a little tired.”

There’s a mini pause, one where M gathers her words before choosing to continue, “You know you never answered me earlier.” She mentions, and you chew at your lips as a canopy of guilt floods your vision. You still haven’t told a soul about the breakup, and M is your closest friend and coworker, and you can’t help feeling ashamed for keeping this from her. “And noting the dried dot of mascara on your cheek, I know something’s up.” Your fingertips fly to your cheek. “Other side,” and you move your hand to rub harshly at the skin.

“Thank you,” you whisper, bringing your fingertips to your mouth, squeezing your eyes shut while a stab of pain enters your already tainted heart. “He left,” is all you can muster, flinching at the thought of his name. Realization commences M’s expression because her eyes widen, her mouth forming an “O” shape in reaction to how much she did not expect your words.

“Oh [Y/N], I am so sorry. I had no idea-”

“No. I don’t- I don’t know. He just left without any explanation.”

“What?” M murmurs in disbelief, “I never thought-”

“You know we have work tomorrow,” she reminds you though you engulf your second glass without delay since the buzz you’re gaining lightens the load weighing heavy on your soul.

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” you whine, clumsily reaching for the wine bottle, M grasping it away from you.

“No, ma’am. For someone who barely drinks, you sure are determined to steal it all.”

“It’s for a good cause,”

“Nah- ah!” M taps your hand away after your third attempt, “Your sanity is important. Now, go lay down. If there’s anything you really need, it’s a good night’s sleep.”

You groan, “Why do you have to be such a good friend,” you sag, M rounding the counter to put an arm underneath your shoulders.

“Goodnight, you killjoy.”

“Hey, you’ll thank me when you awaken without a splitting headache.”

“And, I’ll believe it when I arise from this couch at seven in the AM.”

She holds your gaze, “Always… And [Y/N]?”

“Hm,” you grunt groggily, feeling the heavy flutters of your eyelids begging for slumber, but your ears perk enough, especially when M’s next words bring hushed tears to your tired eyes.

“You’ll get through this; I have no doubt. Whatever is going on, he made his choice. He’s running from this because he’s ashamed of something.”

To be continued....

- Story is currently in the process of being rewritten from the original, thank you so much for reading -

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