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berryyuni · 1 month

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the good in the bad - yjw

✿ heroes and villains aren't meant to be together... that's what you and jungwon thought at least. perhaps your views have changed after having to work together with the yang jungwon. who would've thought.

pairing - hero!jungwon x villain!fem!reader (ft. heeseung and nct dream's jeno) genre - enemies to lovers, slow burnish, angst, fluff wc - 7.6k warnings - swearing, blood, violence, weapons, daddy issues, betrayal, jungwon's mean to the reader, kissing requested

tiana's note 🎀 - i'm so sorry this took so long to get out ! there was so many details i wanted to add, i know i could've added more but this was the best i can do. i really really had fun writing this, this is the longest fic i've ever written and it's something very different from something i'd usually write. thank you anon for requesting this !

౨ৎ reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated !! <3 ✧˖° ... (library)

“this way! come on!” jeno yelled as he darted around the corner. you were right on his tail, making sure you don't stray behind.

the building's alarm blared into the calm, quiet night along with the loud footsteps of your pursuers. let’s just say that some people aren’t necessarily happy with what you have stolen.

you had pulled off countless jobs: successfully breaking into buildings, swiftly looting them, and disappearing into the night. you were pretty much considered a pro at committing crimes. but something about tonight was different. the shadowstone - supposedly a very rare stone, one that can "change lives" once you lay hands on it. selling this would earn you millions. you needed this.jeno as he darted around . were right on his tail, making sure you don't stray behind.the building's alarm blared into the calm, quiet night along with the loud footsteps of your pursuers.

what you didn’t expect was the large swarm of people chasing you right after you’d stolen it. normally, the ear piercing alarm would go off, signaling that it was your time to disappear off into the night, but tonight felt oddly controlled, almost as if they were waiting for you to steal the stone. almost like it was all planned out…

but that didn’t concern you. the only thing on your mind right now was to escape with your new shiny prize.

11 hours ago…

“heeseung, what’s the reason for this? what am i looking at?” jungwon asked with a puzzled look on his face. heeseung had called for him to his headquarters - something that wasn’t so common as jungwon usually handles his missions on his own. heeseung only asks for him when it comes to serious matters. this must be one of those cases.

“y/n l/n, she also goes by the name of ‘echo’,” heeseung explained, walking towards jungwon, “she is known to be one of the deadliest - not to mention, skilled villains as of right now. she’s made quite the name for herself.”

jungwon’s brow furrowed, “what does she have anything to do with my mission?”

“i need you to locate and bring her to me immediately. she has something i want,” heeseung commands, his gaze intense.

jungwon pondered for a moment. how is he supposed to find you? you’re in a very large city, you can be anywhere. and more importantly, why, out of all heroes, does he have to find you?

“jungwon,” heeseung said sternly, bringing him back to reality, “don’t let me down.”

“yes, sir.” he replied. with a wave, heeseung dismissed him.

now to hunt you, echo, down.

present…

after what felt like an eternity of running, you and jeno finally reach a quiet, secluded alleyway. you no longer heard the yells and footsteps of your pursuers so you assume you’re finally alone. kneeling over, you try to catch your breath. jeno doing the same. once your eyes met his, the two of you laugh and celebrate another successful run. he made his way over to you with his hand up, waiting for a high five.

“another point for us,” he said excitedly. “i can already smell how rich we’re going to be.”

you laughed, breathless, “right? jeno, this is huge. this is going to change our lives, maybe we can finally settle down after this.”

you noticed how his eyes lit up, “you really think so?”

“i do. the shadowstone is worth millions, i’m sure it’ll get us the money for the house we wanted,” grinning at him, you put your hand on his shoulder, “imagine months from now, we’re living in our dream house, we’ve retired from this job of ours and we’re finally living in peace… we can finally live the life we deserve, jeno.”

he smiles at you, putting his hand on top of yours, “i would do anything to live that life,” he glanced down at the satchel that rested at your hip and nudges his head towards it, “let’s see that stone of ours?”

“let’s do it.”

as you started to reach in your bag to grab the stone, jeno says, “stay here, i’m going to go check if the coast is clear.”

you nodded as you began to rummage through the bag. your hands finally make contact with the stone. you sighed in content, pulling it out. as you observed the sharp, black stone that sat in your hands, your smile began to fade. the stone wasn’t glimmering, translucent gem you were expecting. instead, it was dull, solid - fake. “fake…” you muttered, heart dropping.

just as you were about to warn jeno, you heard him yell, “echo, run!” but before you could even react, a man appears in front of jeno, attacking him. jeno tried to fight back only for his punches to be blocked, resulting in him being stabbed in the stomach, collapsing to the ground.

hearing his cries of pain, you gasp, tears blurring your vision, “jen-“ you try to run to him but you couldn’t. another man appears behind you and grabs you by the arms. no matter how much you try to kick and break free from his grasp, he’s too strong for you.

“no running now, freak,” he whispers into your ear. “we got her, jakah.”

jakah? you’ve heard that name before somewhere but you can’t seem to recall at the moment. your brain was scattered, nothing made sense. you feel yourself being turned around in the man’s grasp and there you were met with a man that had a tall, lean build. dark brown hair covered his eyes but you still were able to feel his piercing gaze. his energy exuding power and confidence. he was not here to mess around.

you were being pushed closer to him. your eyes meet. those eyes. they were captivating. you almost couldn’t look away from him. you didn’t want to. no. you can’t let yourself surrender to him.

jakah observed you for a moment. his eyes trailed all over your figure - you felt like you could shrink just under his gaze. once he turned his attention back to your face, he tilts his head and clicks his tongue, “you’re not as deadly as he said you’d be… what happened?”

hearing this made anger run through your body. without thinking, you stomped on the foot of the man holding you, causing him to loosen his grip. you took this opportunity to swing around and punch him in the face to create some distance between you. as he’s doubled over in pain, you quickly grabbed your dagger that you had hidden in your leg and swung it at jakah, making contact with his cheek.

his quick reflexes allowed him to grab your wrist to prevent further injury. your eyes widen at how strong he is, he brings his free hand to wipe away the droplets of blood coming from his cheek, his expression a mix of irritation and amusement, “don’t even bother fighting back, echo. you’ll waste your energy.” he smirks, pushing you to the ground.

before you could react, jakah pulled out a gun and aims it at you.

this was it. this was the end for you. as you began to accept the fact that this may be the last few moments being alive, a surge of electricity runs through your body and everything went black.

you slowly began to regain consciousness, groaning as you slowly opened your eyes. you found yourself tied to a chair, the ropes dug into your wrists and ankles. you try to free yourself, but the ropes were too tight. “shit.” you muttered, frustrated.

taking in your surroundings, you realized that you’re being held in someone’s headquarters. in front of you was a man that had his back turned to you. in the dim lights you could make out the red tint in his hair.

“she’s awake, sir.” a voice said from behind you, followed by the sound of approaching footsteps.

“good,” the man in front of you turned around, revealing his face. “it’s about time.” he smirked.

“what did you do to jeno?” was the first thing you said. you didn’t care about your safety, you just wanted to know if jeno was even alive.

“hello to you too,” the man started walking towards you, “do you know who i am or where you are?”

“why would i?” you spat out, struggling against the rope, “does it look like i care about that?”

“there’s no point in struggling. you’re only making it worse,” jakah said, next to you. “you can’t escape anyway.”

you glare at him only to be met with his cold gaze. you realize there’s no point in talking to him. “why am i here?” you turn your focus back to the red haired man who stared at you intently, “if this is me finally being caught for my crimes… it sure isn’t how i envisioned it would be.”

“and how would that have been?” he asked, feigning amusement.

“oh you know, a handsome, charming man sweeping me off my feet and carrying me to my roomy cell,” you turn to jakah and scanned his face, “could’ve been you, you seem to fit the role perfectly. what a shame.” you sighed.

his glare only deepens, “you think you’re so funny-“

“jungwon.” the man in front of you interrupted sternly, “that’s enough.” the supposed jungwon looks down at his feet.

“why am i here?” you repeated, growing impatient, “you never answered my question.”

“you’re here because you’re the key to something i want.” he said, causing you to raise an eyebrow. “find me that amulet.”

the energy in the room shifts as you processed what the man said. it feels like time slowed down. anyone would be able to feel the coldness radiating off of you. jungwon watched your reaction closely, confused.

“…you’re heeseung.” your eyes darkened, “so it is you.”

“it’s nice to see you again, y/n,” he smiled. but behind that smile had so much meaning. jungwon had a feeling there was something he didn’t know. but for his sake, he chose not to interfere. you had gone silent as painful, buried memories began to resurface. you wanted to make them stop.

heeseung continued, “i need you to find the amulet for me.”

“why should i help you?” you snapped, “how do i know you’re not gonna just send me to my death?”

“you know what would happen if that amulet is in the wrong hands. we can’t afford to let chaos ensue once he finds what he’s looking for,” he pressed, “and you won’t be going alone, jungwon will be coming with you.”

“what?” the both of you said simultaneously causing you to glare at each other. “i don’t need a babysitter. it’d be quicker if i went alone.” you argued.

“and have you run off? no, that’s not happening. jungwon is coming with you to make sure you return with the amulet.”

you scoffed, “of course, you don’t trust me.” you can feel both pairs of eyes on you, waiting for you answer. “what’s in it for me?”

“if you come back with the amulet, i will release you and jeno and you will have the chance to throw away this life and start a new one without anyone coming after you, just like you wished.”

jeno’s still alive. you felt a sense of relief wash over your body after hearing those words leave his mouth. but for some reason, you couldn’t help but be skeptical at his proposal. it felt too easy. it could be a trap.

“how do i know you’ll keep your word? how do i know you won’t just send people after us?” you questioned.

“i have no interest in what you do besides this. i only need you for this matter so you will be free to go if you succeed.”

“and if i don’t succeed?”

“you’ll be joining jeno in the cells. and be handed over to the authorities.”

figures. you contemplated for a moment. from what you were understanding, you and jeno’s future relies solely on you finding this amulet - to which you may or may not know where and how to find it. it doesn’t hurt to try though. you and jeno needed this.

“okay,” you sighed, “i’ll help you find the amulet,” this caused heeseung to nod, but you continued, “but i need to see jeno first. i have to make sure he’s okay.”

“that can be done.” heeseung said, nodding to jungwon so that he can untie you. you rubbed your wrists as soon as you were freed. “make it quick though, the sooner you leave the better. jungwon, show her to jeno’s cell.”

“come on,” he gestured for you to follow. you quickly caught up to him, eager to see jeno.

you followed him down the hall revealing numerous cells, however there was no one in them. just jeno. he was sitting on the ground, head buried in his knees. seeing him in such state made your stomach turn. “jeno,” you called out, immediately running over to him. he looks up at the sound of your voice. his face lights up and he scrambled closer to the bars.

“y/n,” he says, relieved, “you’re okay. i thought you were-“

“i’m okay,” you reassured, grabbing his hand, “i’m going to get you out of here, okay? i just need to find that amulet for them then we’ll be okay.”

jeno’s eyes widen and shakes his head, “the amulet? no, you can’t go y/n. that’s not going to end well.”

“i have to, jeno.” you whisper, “for us. heeseung and i made a deal. we’re free once i find it for him.”

“and you trusted him just like that? it sounds weird…”

“what other choice do i have? it was either freedom or being stuck here. i’m willing to take a risk.”

jungwon stood off to the side, waiting for you to finish your conversation with jeno. there was a lot he didn’t know: you and jeno’s relationship, how you knew heeseung, your connection with the amulet. he was completely in the dark. but he knew it wasn’t his place to pry for answers. if anything, he doesn’t want anything to do with you. why would he want to? you’re from very different worlds, that aren’t meant to be combined. he doesn’t trust you. he’s only doing this to prove to heeseung that he trusted the right person. he doesn’t want to let him down. never.

“just… be safe, okay? you need to come back.” jeno pleaded, “i can’t lose you.”

“i promise i’ll be back. don’t worry about me,” you lean in closer to whisper the last part, “besides, i have myself this fine man coming with me.” you joked, making jeno scoff at you.

“of course in a situation like this, you’d find someone to thirst over.”

you had to admit, jungwon was an attractive man. you couldn’t help but be drawn to his captivating feline-like eyes, button nose, and quiet persona. jungwon had a lot of qualities that make you curious about him. he intrigued you. you knew there’s a lot more than what he shows on the outside. a part of you wanted to dig deeper into who he is - jungwon, not jakah.

“it’s time to go,” jungwon says, “let’s get this done as soon as we can.” and with that, he began to walk away, leaving you no choice but to quickly say your goodbyes to jeno and chasing after him - finally setting off onto your journey.

nothing was more awkward than this very moment. ever since you and jungwon began your journey, not a single word has been exchanged between you. the only thing that could be heard was the crunch of gravel underneath your feet. you didn’t mind it since you barely knew jungwon - plus it didn’t look like he wanted anything to do with you anyways. but you had to admit, it was getting boring having to walk in silence. you decide to take one for the team and open up a conversation.

“so,” you started, “your real name’s jungwon? and your hero name is jakah. how did you come up with it?” you asked, expecting a reply from him. but nope, you were only met with silence. “okay,” you muttered, “i don’t know how i thought of ‘echo’ to be honest, it kind of just-“

“can you not?” he interrupted, voice filled with impatience, “i really don’t care about what you have to say.” his walking pace sped up so now he was walking in front of you.

sucking in a breath, you try to maintain your composure, “look i get it, you hate me for what i am and you were forced into this mission but i’m doing us both a favor to try to make this experience at least somewhat enjoyable.”

“okay, well don’t. you’re not my friend. i don’t trust you and i don’t like you. if it weren’t for the mission, i would’ve handed you and that partner of yours to the authorities myself.“

you weren’t going to lie, that stung a little. “hey, fuck you too. it’s not like i had a choice either. you were the one that kidnapped us so if anything you put yourself into this mess. you could’ve left us as is but no, you had to go and prove that you were good enough to your precious heeseung.” you argued, if he wants to be an asshole, you’ll be one in return.

jungwon’s face flushed with anger. he hated how right you were. he hated how you knew that he accepted this mission to show heeseung how capable he is to have a job as big as this. he hated you. “tell me where the amulet is. i’ll go get it myself.” he demanded.

“no.” you said firmly, “you won’t be able to get it without me. like heeseung said, i’m the ‘key’ to finding it.” you decided to end the conversation right there.

as you were about to continue walking, you feel jungwon pull harshly at your wrist. “bullshit. you’re not the key. i don’t care about how special you think you are to this mission, tell me where the amulet is.”

“or what? you’ll kill me? leave me for dead? you don’t scare me, jungwon. i’ve been through it all.” you yank your wrist from his grasp, glaring at him.

“fuck this.” he mutters, walking away from you.

“where are you going?” you yell.

“i’m finding the amulet myself.” he yells back, his figure shrinking as he walked away.

“asshole.” you muttered under your breath. there was nothing else you could do. it was very evident jungwon hates you and couldn’t even stand being around you.

that’s his problem.

you genuinely had no idea how jungwon would find the amulet on his own. he had no leads. you tried to warn him. for once, you wanted to be a good person and help someone out, but of course it blows up in your face. maybe this was just how things are for you - always trying to do the right thing, only for you to face the consequences. maybe it’s just a fated thing for you to be a villain.

as you walked to your destination, your mind couldn’t help but wander off to jungwon. this was the dangerous part in the city. it’s basically the abandoned part, no one dares to go here. it has everything bad you can imagine - thieves, gangs, all the sketchy things. you knew this place like the back of your hand unlike jungwon. this was your territory and that is why you should’ve stuck with him. he could get himself killed here. but wait, why are you worrying so much about him? why are you wondering where he is or if he’s even okay? it’s not your business. he was the one that wanted to go off on his own. he hates you. you remind yourself.

but he needs me.

as embarrassing as it is to admit, jungwon was completely lost. he had no idea where he was going. and the fact that the night time is slowly approaching does not help with his situation. everything’s starting to look the same to him. he could’ve sworn he saw that tree 3 times already. is he just going in circles at this point?

jungwon mentally cursed at himself for letting his stubbornness take over. maybe it was a good idea for you to lead the way since it did look like you knew what you were doing. but did he want to admit that? no, not at all. you were a villain and to him, all villains are the same - cold and heartless. of course, he would have his guard up.

…but was he too harsh? the more jungwon recalled your conversation, the more he started feeling somewhat guilty? to how he treated you. you never really fought back unless you had to, you were just doing what you had to do.

jungwon was conflicted. he can’t seem to figure you out. you’re not like any of the villains jungwon has come across. you haven’t tried to kill him or cause harm ever since you started the mission. in fact, you were so willing to go and find the amulet for heeseung - and you’re pretty determined to find it. why is that? and why are you being so secretive about the location of the amulet? why were you the “key”? there were too many unanswered questions. he wants to know more, more about you.

wait what?

snapping out of his thoughts, jungwon checks back into reality only to find him falling to the ground with a rope tied around his ankles. he must’ve stepped into a trap while he wasn’t paying attention. panicking, he tries to quickly untie himself but is suddenly pinned down by a masked man holding a knife to his throat.

“well, well, well, what is jakah doing out here all by himself?” the man cackles. jungwon looks around frantically for his gun but finds it a few inches away from him. it was too far for him to reach. “where’s your little girlfriend? did she leave out here to die? classic echo.” the outline of the man’s wide grin can be seen through his mask, “guess you’ll have to die out here alone. well deserved.”

jungwon could feel the blade pushing deeper and deeper into his neck. he winces in pain but suddenly he feels the man’s hand go limp. he opens his eyes to find that a blade has gone through the man’s chest, blood dripping all over him. he falls off to the side.

it was you. you saved him.

breathing heavily, you stare at jungwon. he stares back, expression unreadable. did you run to him? how did you find him? “it’s you.” he let out a small breath of relief.

you haven’t looked away from him. jungwon observed your expression. you looked relieved? hesitantly you asked, “are you hurt?”

he shook his head, “no, i’m okay.” you nodded, bending down to help untie his ankles. you helped him up afterwards. neither of you knew what to say. last time you talked, it ended badly. you didn’t want it to happen again but at the same time, you wanted to stay by his side. you can feel his eyes on you - scared to look at him, you looked somewhere else. “…i think you should lead the way.” you heard him say softly, catching you by surprise. the only thing you could do was nod. for once, you didn’t have anything to say. jungwon wasn’t used to it.

you were getting closer to your destination. the building was in sight. all you had to do was cross a bridge and go through a run-down building then you have made it. the closer you got, the more the nerves started to kick in. this was not how you expected your day to go. you were not expecting to run an errand for good guys. you were not expecting to see that person again. you didn’t want to.

noticing the slight shift in your energy, jungwon looks to you and asks, “is everything okay?”

“hm? oh… yeah i’m fine. just thinking…” you replied, trailing off. jungwon waited for you to continue your sentence but you didn’t. “we’re almost there. we just need to cross this bridge and enter that building, then we can bring the amulet back to your boss,” you paused, “then i’ll be out of your way.” you gave him a small fake smile but he could easily see through it.

you weren’t going to lie, you didn’t want the mission to end. to your surprise, you enjoyed your time with jungwon even if it was rough at first. it was a different experience, but a good one. you liked being on the good side for once. you also couldn’t ignore the fondness you have developed for the boy… you were going to miss this.

jungwon only nodded, feeling a strange pang in his heart. to his surprise, he also felt a bit of disappointment that the mission was coming to an end. he has grown used to your company in a short amount of time. he’s not used to having a partner but honestly, he likes it. it’s going to be hard for him going back to working alone.

the two of you walked in a comfortable silence but that was soon interrupted when you suddenly gasped in disbelief, “no way!”

confused, jungwon watches you run ahead to look at something over the bridge railing, “where are you going?” he asks, catching up.

he looks at you and notices an excited expression on your face. his gaze slightly softens as he observes this rare expression, “it still looks the same…” you whisper. jungwon looks to where you were looking. there was a small pond surrounded by a beautiful field of healthy grass filled with white daisies. a weeping willow stood nearby, adding to the scene. it looked like something straight out of a storybook. it was very much different sight to see compared to what you have seen throughout your journey.

you turned to jungwon with a grin, “i used to go here a lot as a kid. i’d sit by the pond and take in the silence…” you reminisced, tons of memories were coming back to you - the good and bad.

“you’ve been here before?” jungwon asked, seeing a hint of sadness in your eyes.

“i grew up here actually.” you confessed softly, “it didn’t always use to look like this,” you said, gesturing to the area around you. “it was nice actually, quiet.”

“i can see why you liked this place…” he commented, taking in the beautiful sight in front of him. he’s never seen you this calm before.

you thought carefully about what you wanted to say next. for some reason, you felt like you could tell jungwon anything at this moment. you felt safe. “you must be so confused on what exactly it is we’re doing,” you chuckled, grabbing jungwon’s attention, “uhm, you know how heeseung said that i was the key to getting the amulet?” he nodded slowly, “well, that’s because the person who has the amulet is my father.” jungwon’s eyes widened, it’s all starting to make sense now. “i haven’t seen him in years. i’m pretty sure he doesn’t even know that i’m alive.” you let out a bitter laugh.

“what do you mean by that?” jungwon asked cautiously. judging by your tone, this might be something you’d want to talk about. he’s not expecting you to open up to him especially with how he has treated you.

“i hope you realize i’m about to trauma dump you,” you joked, jungwon didn’t laugh. instead, he looked concerned - something that completely caught you off guard. because of this, your expression changed back to a serious one. “i wasn’t always like this,” you gestured to yourself, “bad, i mean. in fact, growing up i wanted to be a superhero. the idea of saving and helping people always spoke out to me as well as having people look up to you. but, not all dreams come true.” you sighed, “my father isn’t exactly the greatest person, in my opinion. i mean, he left me for dead at a very young age just to save that precious amulet of his. it’s funny cause i actually know heeseung,” hearing his name, jungwon perks up, “heeseung’s been looking for that amulet for all these years because of the secrets it holds. like he said, it being in the wrong hands can lead to chaos,” your eyes begin to water as you recall past events, “one day, my father and i were cornered by heeseung and his men. he demanded for the amulet but, my dad refused. a fight broke out, i tried to hide somewhere but my dad threw a bomb as a distraction and ran off, leaving me behind. everyone leaves, it was just me. i thought my dad would come back for me but nope. i was all scared and alone. so i had to do what i could to survive and unfortunately those things weren’t necessarily considered to be good acts…”

“heeseung didn’t save you? and where was your mom?” he asked, puzzled why heeseung would leave you behind.

“heeseung didn’t care about me. all he wanted was the amulet. and my mom died when i was a baby - complications during birth.”

“i’m so sorry…” jungwon placed his hand on top of yours, rubbing soothing circles. you looked down at your hands, surprised by his sudden gesture. your heart fluttered at his actions. “that must’ve been so hard to go through all alone.”

“i wasn’t alone.” you smile fondly, “i had jeno.”

“what is jeno to you exactly?” you raise an eyebrow at him, “if you don’t mind me asking…”

“why? are you jealous?” you tease.

“no.” yes he was. “i’m just trying to get to know you better.” he quickly clarified.

“you definitely weren’t trying to do that before,” you laugh, “but no, jeno’s not my boyfriend. he’s just someone really special to me. he found me when i was all alone and he stuck by my side through it all. he saved me when i needed somebody the most. so i owe him my life really.”

“is that why you accepted the mission so quickly, despite your father?” he asked.

you nodded, “i can’t just leave him there. he needs me. and it could give us the life we’ve always wanted.”

“and what’s that life you’ve always wanted?” jungwon’s not sure what possessed him but he built up the courage to get a little closer to you. his entire body now facing you.

flustered by the close proximity, you stuttered, “uhm not having to commit any more crimes. living in a quiet, peaceful area, nothing coming to bother us. just enjoying each other’s company…” you trailed off, looking into jungwon’s eyes, neither of you wanting to break eye contact. you could’ve sworn you saw his eyes flickered to your lips.

“and you want to live this life with jeno?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. his hand reaches up to brush a strand of hair away from your face.

“yes…” you whisper.

“okay.” was all he said, before turning his attention back to the pond.

you needed a second to calm down your racing heart. “well, i basically just told you my entire life story, what’s yours?” you ask.

he shrugged, “there’s not much to tell. just your average superhero origin story.”

you scoff, “please, i’m sure your story is very entertaining. i wanna learn more about you.”

he breathes out “well, kind of like you, i have always been on my own my whole childhood. but that was my choice. i’ve always wanted to be a superhero so i made that my entire life. i was dead set on becoming one so i ran at every opportunity to help people. eventually, all my acts got heeseung’s attention so he took me under his wing. he trained me and got me to where i am today. i’ve always looked up to him and never wanted to let him down. i guess it’s cause i don’t want him to regret choosing me to become a hero...”

“you’re a good person, jungwon.” you say, “i have a lot of respect for you actually. i think heeseung’s very lucky to have you. he’d be an idiot to not recognize all that you’ve done.” you smile.

“you know, you’re not the scary villain you make yourself to be.”

you laugh, “everyone has some layers to them.”

you and jungwon finally reach your father’s hideout. standing in front of the door, you let out a shaky breath. you feel jungwon’s hand on your shoulder, “hey, i’m right here.” he offers you a reassuring smile.

“here goes nothing.” you mumbled, opening the door.

you slowly walk in, looking for any sign of him. you gesture for jungwon to look around. as you wandered around and took in the details of his hideout, your mind couldn’t help but wander back to the past. how could he just leave you like that? you always thought you and your father had a strong relationship but apparently not since he was able to leave you so easily. you wondered if things would’ve been different if he never left you. maybe you could’ve walked down the better path. but that would mean that you’d never have met jeno… and even jungwon. that’s something you can’t even imagine - and you don’t even want to.

“y/n,” you hear jungwon call out anxiously. you quickly turn your head towards the sound of his voice and the scene in front of you causes you to freeze. there stood your father pointing a gun at jungwon, his hands were in the air, silently praying that he wouldn’t get shot.

you let out a shaky breath, “put down the gun. he’s with me.”

to your surprise, he slowly lowered the gun, “you’ve grown so much.” he said, his voice tinged with nostalgia.

“well that’s what growing up does to you. you could’ve seen it if you hadn’t abandoned me.” you said coldly.

“i did what i had to.” he defended, causing you to roll your eyes.

“you did what you had to?” you scoffed, “so leaving me for an amulet was your top priority. wow, you deserve a ‘dad of the year’ award.” you say, sarcastically.

“we’re not doing this right now, what even brings you here? why are you suddenly working with a superhero.” he motions towards jungwon, who’s eyes were only on you.

“that shouldn’t concern you,” you shook your head, “i need the amulet.”

“i’m not giving you the amulet, y/n.” he sighed, “you should know that.”

“i see you’re still the same,” you spit out, “you stole that amulet, dad. what good does that even do for you? it’s been years and you haven’t even done anything with it. why do you want to live the rest of your life in hiding?”

“i need this amulet for answers, y/n. don’t you want to find out more about our family history?”

“there’s a reason why this amulet was locked away. maybe those secrets could do more harm than good,” you look down at the ground, “besides, i have no interest in our family… i had to learn the hard way that i don’t even have one.”

the room goes silent at your words. all jungwon wanted to do was pull you into your arms and tell you that it wasn’t true - that you are loved and you have a family.

“i know you want nothing to do with me. but please, give me the amulet. you’ll never see my face again, i promise. i really really need it,” you beg, you don’t even care how pathetic you look now. all you wanted was to get this stupid amulet and save your best friend. “i have so much on the line.”

you honestly have no idea what you had just said because suddenly you see that the amulet has been tossed at your feet. you quickly bend down to pick it up and examine it. you had to make sure it wasn’t a trap. “i don’t know why you need this so badly or what even happened but… the last thing i want to is my daughter to lost whatever she has left.”

your eyes fill your tears but you quickly blink them away. “thank you.” you whisper.

“now go before i regret it.” he said with an awkward laugh.

you nod and begin to walk out but you were stopped by your father calling out to you, “i know i wasn’t the best dad but… i do love you, y/n. and i wish you the best in everything.”

you didn’t know what to say to that. it definitely wasn’t something you were expecting. but due to your circumstances, you couldn’t really give him a proper answer… so all you did was give him a sad smile before leaving.

once reaching the outside again, you and jungwon immediately make your way back to heeseung. you felt like you can finally breathe again. you stare at the amulet in your hands. this was what ruined what you had left of a family - this chunk of gold. “are you okay?” you hear jungwon say.

you nodded, smiling out of reflex, “yeah, of course. let’s just get back, yeah?”

his gaze lingered on you, a concerned expression on his face“you know, you don’t always have to put on a strong face. it’s okay to let your walls down, y/n.”

his words made you stop. the walls you’ve spent years building suddenly crumble before you. your breath hitches and for some reason, you were no longer able to hold back your tears. jungwon, without hesitation, pulls you into his embrace.

“it’s just hard,” you sobbed into his shoulder, “ i don’t even know how i got here. how did i fall down this path? i don’t want it.”

“it’s not your fault, y/n.” he comforted, “it’s never too late to start all over. you have it in you, you can be the person you want to be. it’s all over now, you and jeno can finally leave. you deserve it.”

“but i don’t want to leave you.” you confessed, pulling away from him.

his shoulders fell and he gently cupped your cheeks, wiping away your tears with his thumbs, “i don’t want to leave you either,” he admits softly, “but you deserve a chance at a second life.”

you stare into his eyes, seeing the sincerity in them. never would you have thought that you’d fall for the yang jungwon. the same goes for him. you’re from two very different worlds, it was never expected you’d even be on good terms with each other. but apparently in your situation, it was possible. it was something special.

“heeseung? we’re back.” jungwon announces, heeseung immediately runs up to you.

“you got the amulet?” he asked, a little surprised that you managed to make it back.

“right here,” you pull out the amulet and gave it to him.

he sighs in relief and examines the amulet, “finally,” he mutters under his breath. you watch heeseung in anticipation, waiting for his next words, “good work.” he comments.

you see him glance at someone from behind you, gesturing something. before you could look back, you felt your wrists being restrained, “w-wait, what are you doing?” you panic.

“you really think i’d let a villain run loose? wow, you really are pathetic.” heeseung snickers, “lock her up.” he tells the man that’s restraining you.

shock ran through your body as you try to process what had just happened. you struggle against the restraints and resist the man holding you back but the more you tried, the weaker you felt. your heart races as you were being dragged towards the cells.

“jungwon!” you call out in desperation.

“hey, this wasn’t part of the deal!” he yelled, attempting to run to you but heeseung holds him back. “let her go!” he tries to fight back but it’s no use. you’re already gone.

jungwon looks at heeseung in disbelief, “let her go.” he commands.

“since when did you care about her?” heeseung’s face drops, “don’t tell me you’ve fallen for her… do you know who she is?”

“i know that she’s a good person. she just fell down the right path but she’s capable.” he defends. “and you,” jungwon points a finger at heeseung’s chest, “you could’ve helped her. she wouldn’t be where she is right now if you’d help her when she was a kid. but you left her.” he accused. “you’re no better than her father.”

heeseung’s face hardens the more jungwon accuses him, “that’s not how you talk to your boss. don’t let your emotions take over.”

“i’ll talk to you however i want to!” he retorts, “you let her suffer. you could’ve saved her but you chose not to. you’re just as responsible for how she turned out.”

you sat in your cell, listening to every word that was being exchanged between heeseung and jungwon. you could hear the echoes of jungwon’s heavy footsteps as he walked away in frustration. now it was just you left alone once again.

you pull at your hair in anger. what now?

it felt like hours since you’ve been locked up. you sat against the wall in defeat. you lost. you don’t know what to do anymore. you shouldn’t even be surprised. of course you’d get locked up - you’re a bad guy after all and that’s a hero’s job, put away the bad guys. you should’ve have gotten your hopes up. “jeno?” you croaked.

he hummed in response, “i’m sorry.” you say, your voice cracking, “this is my fault. i shouldn’t have trusted them.”

“it’s not your fault, y/n. stop blaming yourself for things that are out of your control. you did what you could.” he says gently.

“we’re never going to be able to be free. it’s never going to happen.”

“you don’t know that,” he whispers, “this might be another one of those sticky situations we get stuck in. we’ll get out of this.”

“it’s not that likely.” you sigh. you close your eyes, feeling exhausted and drained. there really was nothing you could do. all you could do was just sit and await your fate.

moments pass until you hear hurried footsteps coming towards your direction. you perk up, in caution. turning the corner, revealed jungwon who was out of breath. “jungwon?” you stood up and walked closer to the bars. jeno perks up, watching the two of you.

“i’m getting you guys out of here,” he whispers, “i’m not letting you stay here.”

your heart flutters once more. this boy will never fail to surprise you. “but what about heeseung? he’s gonna kill you once he finds out you let us out.” you asked, concerned.

“that doesn’t matter to me. you’re more important.” jungwon opens your cell and quickly moves over to jeno’s.

“why are you helping us?”

“because i know there’s more to you than being a bad guy. you’re a good person, y/n. you just need a chance.” your gaze softens, “come on, hurry. follow me.”

the three of you run through a hidden passageway jungwon found. next thing you knew, you were able to be the light again. you walked until there was some good distance between you and heeseung’s place. reality begins to hit you and you start to realize what’s about to happen. you look at jeno and he gives you a smile before walking away, giving you and jungwon some space. you stand, looking down at your feet, not being able to look at jungwon. you feel him getting closer to you, feeling his breath hit your face. “you made it.” he whispers, tilting your chin up to look at him.

“thanks to you,” you smile at him. “you saved me...”

“you saved me first,” he laughs softly, his smile then falters, “is… it selfish of me to say that i don’t want you to go even though i saved you?”

you laugh, “i don’t think so. i don’t want to leave you behind either.” your eyes well up with tears, “god, jungwon what have you done to me?” you sniffle.

jungwon lets out a small laugh before closing the distance between you. his lips press against yours, almost out of desperation. you return the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck. you let your tears fall. you wish this moment could last forever… but unfortunately all good things must come to an end eventually.

you kissed until you ran out of air. pulling away, jungwon wipes your tears away and kisses your forehead. “you guys should start heading out. i don’t want heeseung finding you.” he says, voice wavering.

you nod sadly, “yeah…”

“i’ll come find you, i promise.”

“and i’ll wait for you.” jeno walks up to you and wraps an arm around your shoulder, giving you a comforting smile. you start to back away from jungwon, who gives you a sad smile. if you were able to hear the sound of his heart breaking, it would be very loud and clear. you had to fight the urge to just run back to him and stay with him, but you knew you had to leave. like jungwon said, you deserve a chance. you can’t give up now.

you give jungwon one last wave, “’til next time, partner.” you saluted and blew him a kiss.

there will be a next time. jungwon will make sure of it.

©berryyuni 2024. all work is written by me. do not copy, translate or repost

taglist (open): @suneng @j-jinxee @cherrikii @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @laylasbunbunny

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kaibutsushidousha · 6 months

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Kodaka April Fools tweets 2024

Lying just because it's April Fools' is so dull. Honestly painful to watch. Lying in general doesn't do you any good. In my younger days, I told every lie I could, saying some genuinely insane stuff about being a supreme leader of evil and whatnot, and thanks to that, now that I'm in my thirties, I got famous for all the wrong reasons and can't find a stable job because people think I'm associated with the yakuza... Sigh, I wanna deck my cringe younger self's face. Quit lying for fun while you can.

My classmates aren't doing great either. Thinking you're hot shit during your school days always comes back to bite you... My advice to my past self: slow and steady effort is worth more than any talent. Also, the part of life you spent larping with that silly horse laugh is not going to be one you'll want to remember later. I wish I could make that clear to him. White lies aren't a thing. Talent is never enough. My class is proof of that. Wanna know what my classmates are like now that we're in our thirties?

Akamatsu became a piano teacher. Her player skills capped off in her teens, it seems. But she's not that good at teaching so she's considered kinda mid at her job. And now she's struggling with the father of a student incessantly hitting on her. Tough world to live in.

Toujou opened a housekeeping company but she was too strict with her employees so everyone quit. And now she's doing everything on her own. Sucks to be in your thirties without any successors or employees. She's a prime example of how being so much better than anyone else doesn't do you any good. Well, she's always working for celebrities, so she's doing well financially, but I heard about some major court fight about a missing item under suspicion of theft from one of her clients. That can't be nice.

Yumeno got to her thirties still saying magic is real, so she's past the point of no return. She agrees that's an unhinged way to live, but she's too old to suddenly change gimmicks. Work takes her all over the country, but her gimmick doesn't allow her to publicly drink, so she has to get plastered alone in her hotel room after shows. I wish she could fix her life with real magic.

Harukawa? ...Haven't heard that name in a long time. Now she was a living edgy fantasy. The past tense was because I hadn't heard of her in a long time. I don't know the details, but apparently, she went to some war zone outside of Japan because her first love didn't want to date her. Takes some real edgelord to react to a broken heart like that, but if she's still alive, I have no idea how her thirties are treating her. My personal guess is that she's a mother of many.

Chabashira opened her Aikido school but is having a hard time attracting students. So she had the idea of starting an anti-sexual-harassment campaign that could double as advertisement, but thanks to her cluelessness when it comes to romance, she got canceled for mistakenly tossing men in regular couples. She's still doing the "degenerate males" bit in her thirties. Girl really needs to get on with the times. Rumor goes that she still downs huge packs of tequila bottles with Yumeno every now and then. Really don't think there's any salvaging her reputation.

Shirogane is an office lady still continuing her cosplay hobby on the side. She could be doing well if she knew how to keep her mouth shut but frequently rambles about cosplay history and etiquette, so no one likes having her around. Stay emotionally dependent on a single hobby long enough and your passion starts to close you off to others. That's her problem.

Angie was the most successful in the class! She made big money both on the art and the religion fronts. However, there were some controversies about her devotees selling counterfeits of her paintings at exorbitant prices and one magazine made a huge news coverage of it, which resulted in her catching the police's attention. She's been recently untraceable, with the rumors saying that she'll never be back to Japan.

Oh, and Iruma... Up until some point, she had the best life of all of us. She made big money off of her inventions' patents. So far so good. Things only started going off-rails after she married an ex-stripper. The two started a YouTube channel together. And later, her husband ran in last year's elections and lost big time. They got an awful debt from his election campaign and she had to get into side jobs to pay it off. And her husband? Disappeared. No word from Iruma herself about what happened. Tough world to live in.

No further updates from Kodaka in the past 3 hours, so I assume he went to sleep and will come back to tweet about the 7 remaining boys in the morning.

#kokichi ouma #kaede akamatsu #kirumi toujou #himiko yumeno #maki harukawa #tenko chabashira #tsumugi shirogane #angie yonaga #miu iruma

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royalarchivist · 7 months

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Quackity: These past days I've been in many calls, and I'm not done yet. I've spoken to a lot of people and creators. I've read your comments and I'm well aware of what needs to be done to carry out this project. I want to tell you all, beforehand, that for me the team's well-being is fundamental. I'm very involved in this topic to sort it out and I want to make that very clear. I want to tell you something... I want to tell you all that the administrative staff responsible for so much harm to the project has been fired. Specifically, those who made decisions without my permission, affecting the administrative and financial area of the project. Consequently, after this, I was in charge of doing a financial analysis that's carrying out for the QSMP.

Guys, to be really honest, it was not going to last. Therefore, I've had to make deep drastic structural changes that have lead me to reduce the performance of the server down to the most essential, and this is in order to ensure the well being of everyone involved in it. Having said this, I want to give a very important update: I want to let you all know that the QSMP will have to slow down temporarily. This is to ensure this new structure adapts to the project, because it's a restructuring that's taking place. I'm letting you know, and I reiterate, there are no voluntary positions inside the QSMP.

At the moment, there will not be any more individual update accounts of all 5 existing languages in the project. In any case, during this transition, there's going to be a temporal absence of all Eggs and NPCs. I know these are difficult changes, and I repeat, it's temporary until we adjust to these new conditions that will improve the performance of this new structure that's being made from scratch, both in the administrative and financial part. I'd like to reintegrate people fro the QSMP as time goes by if a financial viability can be found for the project Taking advantage of this update to tell you guys that within the changes of the server as it is, creators will have full control of their lore and stories. The team will not intervene in the way that it was being done. Moreover, efforts will be made to change the competitive dynamics inside the game so as to ease up the game style for the creators. Like I'm saying, all of these changes, and more, are being carrying out to have the project as best as possible, and they're being done little by little. This is a whole new structure that will ensure the best continuity and experience for the creators, the community and the team behind.

Guys, I want to make very clear that this is restructuring process, and again, it's not a fast one. The server being open does not mean everything's perfect, I understand that very well. Conversations will keep taking place, communication will continue and the constant improvement of the project as well. I ask, please, for everyone's patience and understanding regarding all changes. Please do wait for official announcements since a lot of incomplete and incorrect information is being spread. I want to tell you all something- if you don't trust in these changes or have many doubts about it, and don't want to consume any more of the project's content, I understand 100%. I have a personal commitment with the QSMP and I will work until it functions in the way it is supposed to do.

Lastly, I want to let you know that it was being worked on for months on finalizing the integration of Korean creators to the QSMP. For that reason, tomorrow we will be welcoming the new Korean creators of the QSMP, of course, taking into account all the changes I've just mentioned. I hope you can give the new Korean members warm welcome to the project. And as you know, their schedules are earlier. For everyone who would like to watch, they will be joining at 11am Mexico time and at 9am US time. Basically, I wanted to give that update regarding everything that's being done within the project. Again, thank you for your patience and understanding- these are necessary changes and I'm glad they're being done now. And many more things will keep being adjusted.

via @QuackitySubs

#Quackity #QSMP #QSMP Official #Translated #This is very long and I bolded parts to make it easier to read #but if there's a way to make it more accessible to folks lemme know!#I personally find the bolding thing helpful but I know everyone is different #Edit: got rid of the additional ''Quackity:'' bolded parts since that's unnecessary #since. you know. he's the only one speaking here #Quackity Subs also missed a few words in here so I added those in but otherwise this is exactly what was posted #Minus the part where they said ''fro''#I don't know if they meant for or from but that's a very vital difference so I'm leaving that as-is #IMO: It's reassuring hearing the full statement #''Please do wait for official announcements since a lot of incomplete and incorrect information is being spread''#is an especially important reminder #There has unfortunately been a lot of misinformation and catastrophizing / doomposting going around #I understand it's a very scary stressful time for many people #and it sucks being told to be patient #but we actually DO need to be patient if we want to get actual accurate information

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godslino · 5 months

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IN BLOOM | jisung first date series. second chance lovers.

pairing: jisung x fem!reader word count: 13.2k genre: childhood friends au, angst, fluff, songwriter!jisung, florist!reader warnings: swearing, minor character death, grief/loss (nothing to do with any of the members!) summary: it's february. the tulips are in bloom. jisung is back.

a/n: *taps mic* hello?? is this thing on?? oh good. yes. hi. hello! it's been a while, as most of you can tell. thank you all SO MUCH for sticking around. if you've been reading my asks you'll know that march and april were rough months for me personally. shout out to my anons and mutuals who kept my spirits high and made my days brighter. uhhh, this was originally supposed to be a stand alone fic but i figured hey, what the hell, and made it into jisung's first date chapter. it's pretty heavy stuff. lots of feelings, lots of love. i hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as i did writing it! again, thank you so much for waiting for me. i'll be back soon with more updates! all the love <3

also thank you kenzie for being such a light during all of this. i hope all my screaming in your messages was worth it!

“All of these had to be pulled.” Hyunjin huffs, dropping a few crates just past the doorway.

“Again?” you ask, hands on your hips as you stare at yet another wasted supply. “I don’t understand, they sold so well last year.”

Hyunjin gives you a sad smile. “It’ll pick up eventually, don’t worry. I mean the holidays just finished and business usually slows down in the months after anyways.”

He’s being sincere, you know that. But there’s a part of you that also knows it’s a lot more than just the usual ebb and flow of sales. He’s being nice for your sake.

“Maybe we could try coming up with other ideas?” he suggests, because Hyunjin is nothing if not kind. Always willing, always finding a way.

He moves past you to grab a fresh pair of gloves. The ones he’s wearing are dirty, pollen-stained and ripped at the edges.

“You’ve always been really good at basket arrangements. We could try to make some for Valentine's Day. Different sizes, maybe? The big ones will probably do well for online orders since they’re more optimal for things like office deliveries and stuff like that.”

You hum in approval. “True. I mean, I was kind of worried we would have to skip out on deliveries this year since we don’t have the manpower to handle all of that, but I think Jeongin’s been looking to pick up hours around here again. He said something about his program giving them a month of independent study, so he’ll be home for a bit.” you say, scribbling down a reminder in your notebook. “I could ask him to help with driving the truck in his free time?”

Hyunjin lights up– he always does when Jeongin is mentioned.

It’s been a lot quieter ever since he left for college. There were so many tears and so many hugs that were met with countless 'you guys are dramatic's in return. But it’s hard to not feel sad when people leave town; when they decide the borders lined with apple trees and rice fields aren’t enough to stop their dreams from blooming into more than what’s capable of being pursued here.

That, unsurprisingly, is something you know all too well.

“Can’t believe he’s driving.” Hyunjin laments as he wipes his floral scissors with a rag. “I used to spend my days changing his diapers and spoon feeding him redbulls– but now? Driving? My baby is all grown up.” he fake sniffles. “By the way, I’m gonna take my fifteen after I’m done snipping these tulips.”

You snort, bending down to take the crates of wilted flowers to the back for disposal. Hyunjin moves to help but you shake him off.

“Sounds good. Also, don’t let Innie hear you say that. I’m about a thousand percent sure he has the strength needed to throw you into the dumpster with one arm now.”

“My baby would never do that to me!” Hyunjin calls out as you round the corner, bumping open the back door with your hip.

February brings a lot of rain in Jeju. Today is no different; fat drops landing on your head as soon as you stumble out into the alley behind the shop. Footsteps heavy on wet brick, you curse under your breath as you run as fast as you can to the dumpster.

There’s still a few supply boxes from yesterday’s shipment laying around. You meant to bring them in, but you were so exhausted that it slipped your mind while you struggled to make sure everything inside the shop was figured out.

Scrambling, you haul them in one by one, shoes squeaking against the floor as you alternate in and out, soggy cardboard pressed against the front of your apron.

Hyunjin’s on break. A necessary one at that. You can’t bother him, especially not when he’s done enough by taking on more responsibility both as a physical worker and a newly actualized business partner recently. A few stacks of boxes and wet hair seem like a fair trade off for what he’s had to sacrifice in the past year now.

“Idiot,” you mumble, cursing yourself for carelessness. Your slip ups have been more frequent lately, evident in the way you constantly forget things and can’t seem to push away the haziness clouding your mind.

If it weren’t for the timing of it all, you’d blame it on the weather. The gloominess. The overcast skies probably have some sort of hand in your lack of clarity. Shrouded.

But it’s February. And in Jeju— it rains.

By the time you make it back inside, you’re drenched.

“You look like you just got dunked in a pool.”

You frown, ringing your hair out into the trash bin by the door. It’ll definitely take time to dry off, both your hair and your clothes are soaked through.

Hyunjin watches with an amused look, arms crossed as he leans his back against the counter.

“Might as well have. It’s insane out there.” you sigh. “How was your break?”

You look up to find that his face has gone unreadable.

“Yeah, about that…” Hyunjin trails off, voice suddenly smaller than before.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah it’s just–” Hyunjin chews at his bottom lip.

You push past him into the supply room to switch out your apron just as he says, “Do you mind if I leave a little early today?”

You scoff, turning to face him. “Hwang Hyunjin,” you scold, lips twitching when he visibly startles at your tone, “You don’t have to ask me that. We’re partners now, remember? We run this place.”

He shifts on his feet, still unsure.

“Besides,” you huff, tying a knot behind your back, “We were friends way before that, too. You don’t have to be all proper with me. Of course you can leave early. It’s slow today, I can take care of it.”

Hyunjin sighs after contemplating for a second. “Are you sure you’ll be okay, though?”

When he stares at you for a moment too long, you know the real reason for his hesitation. It makes something twist deep in your gut.

Guilt, maybe, amongst other things.

“Of course.” you shrug, doing your best to seem nonchalant.

Hyunjin’s ability to read people is kind of intense, a little scary at times. You happen to be one of his favorite subjects in that regard.

“Have fun. Tell Minah I said hi.”

He pales, sputtering around words as he struggles to say something. It’s cute, his plump lips opening and closing, eyes wild.

“I’m not going to see her! I’m–it’s just a movie! How did you—God, you’re so annoying. I should’ve made you trim the tulips. Hah!”

You giggle. “It’s funny that you think I wouldn’t know, especially with the way you love to actually make yourself look busy whenever she stops by to say hi.”

“I am busy.” he mumbles, looking away. “I just emphasize it a lot more when she’s here.”

“Sure,” you roll your eyes, “Let’s go with that.”

He whines a couple more times, trails after you around the shop and laughs when you swat him away with a rolled up newspaper that’s used for wrapping vases.

It’s loud. Easy. Hyunjin is a gentle reminder that normalcy still exists in your day to day, even if it’s hard to find.

When he finally decides to leave, he lingers for a moment, triple checks that you’ll be okay. You roll your eyes for what feels like the millionth time today, but deep down you’re grateful.

“Love you,” he says, one foot out the door. “Call me if you need anything.”

You shake your head, ignoring him. “Love you too.”

And then he’s gone, a skip in his step as he heads down the sidewalk, leaving you with nothing but freshly-trimmed tulips and the sound of rain.

“Herb snips, shears, tape…” you mumble, scanning the supply shelf.

There’s not much to do in-shop right now. Almost all the arrangements have been tended to by Hyunjin already, his specialty being his keen eye. That’s why he handles the appeal of the shop, leaving you to figure out all the logistics. Learning it all was easier said than done.

In reality, it was never your intention to take over the shop at all.

“When I die,” your grandma would always say, ignoring the way you groaned and begged her to stop bringing it up, “Sell this place. Use the money for something worthwhile. A trip to Greece, maybe?”

“Nana,” you would scold, glaring at her where she stood next to you, trimming a batch of roses.

Wrinkled hands that still held all the skill of youth. Fingers moving at a speed others could only ever dream of having– you included.

Your grandma handled flowers with the same amount of care she did everything else. It’s no wonder that when they grew they would lean in her direction, drawn to her like they would be the sun.

“I’m not selling this place. It’s too special, too important. A vacation only lasts so long, Nana. This is forever.”

She would smile, turn petals over in her hand. Sometimes the marigolds would match the glow in her eyes, a testament to the belief you harbored as a child that she had the ability to sprout blossoms from her fingertips.

“The one thing you shouldn’t do, my dear, is rely on forever. Because that, too, is uncertain.”

You wish you hadn’t been so hard headed. Wish that you would’ve believed her, taken the time to listen, cherished the moment a little bit longer instead of relying on the promise of tomorrow.

I’m sorry for your loss.

Your grandmother was a wonderful woman.

She’ll be with you in your heart, forever.

Oh, what a lie forever is.

The shop stays empty for the rest of the day. There were a few passersby, all of whom simply stopped to scan the arrangements along the windows before giving a polite nod and carrying on their way.

Realistically, the shop has no problem with attracting customers. It’s a sight to behold: mid-floor to ceiling windows with various displays, hanging baskets of winding greenery, countless arrangements that fill the shelves and add a pop of color, and a wide assortment of flowers for each season.

The real issue lies in your inability to sell. Most people regard the place as being good for nothing more than window shopping and the usual photo-op.

Business has slowed since your Grandma passed; since you took over as the sole owner and were suddenly face to face with the task of making decisions in the shop’s best interest– both integrity wise and from a business standpoint.

“I know, I know,” you say around the pen cap between your teeth, “You used to be the brains around here, not me. I’m not creative enough for all of this, you know? No matter how much I try to be.”

You look up from where your notebook lays open, dozens of scribbles for arrangement ideas and planning. The picture on the wall stares at you, unmoving, eyes as bright as marigolds.

“Don’t give me that look.”

She stares. A gaze that holds all the answers while also saying nothing at all.

“Ugh.” you groan, leaning your palms on the desk.

You allow your head to hang forward, defeated, exhaustion flooding your bones.

Just as you’re about to speak again, to complain about yet another thing that probably has her rolling around in her grave, the bell at the front counter dings.

The clock on the desk reads 6:55pm, five minutes until close. You hadn’t even heard anyone come in.

“Be right there!” you call out, rushing to grab your apron from where you’d thrown it on one of the chairs.

In your haste, the box of seed packets you’d been inventorying goes tumbling to the floor.

“Fuck,” you mutter, bending down to pick everything up. One more thing to add to the list today.

Off-kilter. Disoriented. Exhausted.

You sniffle a few times, blinking against the sting behind your eyes as you stand up to put the box back in its place.

One deep breath, a shake of your shoulders. Just enough to chase it all away until later.

“Sorry about that,” you say cheerily, pushing past the hanging beads that separate the front of the shop from the back. “How can I help you?”

There’s a stranger, his back turned, attention focused on a batch of tulips. Freshly cut. White, blue, purple.

You realize, belatedly, that you’d forgotten to grab your apron in your haste to clean up the seed packets. Another slip up. Nana always prided herself in her apron, wore it like a badge of honor, raised you to do the same.

Just as you spin around to grab it, the stranger says, “It’s okay. I just, um, I wanted to say hi.”

You freeze. There’s a long moment where his voice rings loud in your ears, reverberates against the walls of your brain until it travels through your blood, the feeling like wildfire in your veins until it settles deep in the pit of your stomach.

Slowly, you turn, heart clamoring in your chest, threatening to stop altogether as soon as you come face to face with the one person you never thought you’d see again.

Because there, at the front of the store, is Jisung.

Jisung, with wide eyes and parted lips. Jisung, with hair that still curls at the ends and falls in shags around his face. Jisung, broader, more actualized, now grown into his features but still undeniably soft around the edges. Jisung, with thick framed glasses pushed up his nose and silver hoops dangling from his ears.

A stranger. But undoubtedly Jisung.

“You look…nice.” he says, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly with his free hand.

Three words is all it takes. Ice turns to fire. The blood that had drained from your face returns with the blaze of a thousand suns, anger burning your throat.

You reach forward, grab the remote for the neon Open sign and click the power button. Jisung watches in confusion.

“The shop is closed.” you manage on a shaky breath.

Jisung sighs, something heavy. “Listen, I’m—”

“The shop–” you try again, louder, “–is closed.”

Jisung stares. His eyes are still the same velvety brown; big and round and just as you remember.

There was once a time where the sight of Jisung in your Grandma’s shop made your heart sing. A soft tune, the thrum of a thousand harps, a song only for him.

His heart-shaped smile as he helped her hammer some of the shelves onto the wall. The sound of his laughter whenever you’d enter a sneezing fit from accidentally rubbing your face with a gloved hand. His rosy cheeks, burnt from the wind whipping past his face as he ran on foot to make sure you were okay the one time an angry customer smashed a vase on the floor and you called him crying.

But now, seeing him here, a stranger in a body you once knew like the back of your hand— it feels wrong.

“I…” he trails off, registering the way your fists are clenched at your sides.

“Okay,” he resigns, licking his lips. “I, uh– have a good night.”

He gives you one last look, bottom lip pulled tight between his teeth, and then slips out the door. You watch his retreating figure through the glass panel, dark gray skies muting the sound of your rattling heart.

It’s February. The tulips are in bloom. Jisung is back.

And in Jeju– it rains.

There’s an apple tree in the middle of town where Jisung told you he loved you for the first and last time.

Off the corner, a few minutes down the road from where your houses stand a mere five hundred feet away from one another.

Your grandparents were farmers. Your grandma started her floral business a few years before you were born, a dream she always had that your grandpa urged her to pursue once he decided to sell the animals to a younger, more capable couple that could take care of them.

Jisung’s parents, new residents on the island, looking to settle down and start a family.

That’s how it happens. Yours and Jisung’s story, two authors of the same book, destined since the start.

Jisung was born on the same night your mother left you at your grandparents’ doorstep. One note, an apology, is all you’ve ever known about her. Your grandma never cared to indulge you. You’re glad in a way. She provided more than enough love to make sure you never felt an absence in her wake.

The townspeople used to say you and Jisung were soulmates. Something about the heavens knowing he would need a friend, hence why you were delivered that night. From that moment on, the two of you were inseparable.

Attached at the hip, you and Jisung grew up together. First steps, first birthdays, firsts for everything under the sun.

Jisung was there in the morning to walk with you to school and he was there at night when the two of you tucked into bed, sleepovers a regular occurrence, both of you counting the pale green stick-on stars dotting his ceiling until you fell asleep.

Jisung was always around. He held your hand and walked with you to the nurse’s office the first time you got stung by a bee. He wiped your eyes when the boy you liked told you he only ever saw you as a friend, your first rejection. He sat with you under the stars the night your grandpa died, your face tucked into his neck as you stained the collar of his shirt with tears until you were too tired to cry. In the years that followed, he took care of you and your grandma like the two of you were his own.

Jisung, for lack of a better word, was your first forever.

“You could come with me, you know.”

Under the stars, real ones that time, Jisung had turned to you and offered the world.

The air was cold. The apple tree was bare.

“It’ll be fun. We’ll be together, we’ll experience new things. I can do music and you can study all that history stuff you like to learn about. You know, nerdy things.”

“They’re not nerdy things, Ji. Don’t you know everything we have now is because of what’s happened before us?” you’d asked. “Doesn’t it make you wonder? Learning about the past helps us better understand the present, and ultimately the future.”

Jisung had hummed softly, an agreement. “I don’t care about the future, though.” he’d said. “I care about right now. You, me, this.”

When you turned to look at him, he propped himself up on one elbow and stared down at you from above as the moon casted a halo around his head.

“I love you,” he whispered, “And I want you to come with me.”

Jisung, with all the stars in his eyes and a heart full of dreams. Jisung, with the world at his fingertips and the ambition to make it his own.

You, with all your hopes stuffed tight into a suitcase and chained to a boulder, thrown into the ocean. Sinking and sinking until it hit the bottom.

“I love you too,” you whispered back.

Images of marigolds flashed behind your eyes when you closed them, a tear rolling down your cheek. Jisung’s mouth was soft when he kissed it away, salt on his lips. Burning.

“But I can’t.” you choked.

Under the apple tree, Jisung told you he loved you for the first and last time. He promised that the distance would be no match for him, that he would traverse oceans to find his way back. He promised forever.

It was February. The tulips were in bloom. Jisung left to pursue his dreams with a guitar on his back and your heart in his hands. Your understanding of forever was shot at point blank. The bullet passed clean through you.

And in Jeju– it rained.

“I think you should talk to him.”

The sun is out today. Perfect weather for another field harvest. The distributor had called you early in the morning to ask if you’d be willing to accept a drop off even though it’s the weekend. You’d agreed, calling in your most reliable help for the job.

“And I think you’re not helping.” you huff, snipping the head off another hyacinth.

“Agreed,” Hyunjin parrots from beside you, currently in the middle of putting together an arrangement, “This guy sounds like a total dick.”

Chan sighs from behind the two of you, his knees knocking against the legs of the desk when he swivels back and forth in the chair.

Besides Hyunjin and Jeongin, both of whom moved into town after you’d already graduated, and of course, Jisung– Chan is your oldest friend.

Chan was also a neighbor of yours. Three years older than you and Jisung, he was the one who acted as a role model for the two of you when growing up. Nowadays he helps his parents run the largest orange grove on the island during the day and DJs one of the clubs in the tourism hub at night.

“Jisung’s not a dick, he’s just–”

“An asshole.” you finish, smirking when Hyunjin cackles.

Chan sighs. Again. “Yeah okay, I’ll give you that one.”

“Listen, I know I’ve never met him, but isn’t it weird that he just, like, showed up?” Hyunjin asks, setting down his scissors. You continue trimming the hyacinths, listening halfheartedly.

“I mean, think about it. Dude disappears to pursue music, right? He’s gone for what– three years?”

“Four.” you correct.

“God, even worse.” he grimaces.

“But yeah, okay, four years. And then boom! He just strolls in through the front door without so much as a word during the time he was gone? No letters, no phone calls, not even a damn visit. Nothing! All so he can pop up and go ‘oh, you look nice’? Come on.” he scoffs, crossing his arms.

You wince, caught off guard because you’ve never really heard it phrased as bluntly as Hyunjin put it just then. It’s no surprise that he’s annoyed, having only just heard the full story thirty minutes ago. He’d been shocked, partly because you never told him and also because he just couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Okay, yes, he was wrong for that. But isn’t part of you even just the least bit curious as to why?”

You pause mid-snip, mulling Chan’s words over in your head.

The most frustrating part about it all is that you are curious. You wish you weren’t, though. Not when you’ve spent the past four years trying to convince yourself that you don’t need to know what Jisung’s been up to, don’t need to know if he’s been okay since he clearly held no concern for you in that regard anyways.

“What?” you ask when you realize that both boys are staring at you.

“Well?” Hyunjin pushes. “Are you?”

You shrug. “No, not really.”

There’s a total of five seconds that pass before Hyunjin is stomping over and hauling Chan up out of his chair, pushing him towards the front door as he protests.

“Out! Out, out, out, we have important business matters to discuss.”

“But we were supposed to get lunch—!”

“We’re taking a rain check!” Hyunjin fights back, shoving him out of the shop before he has a chance to answer. He drops the shade to cover the glass, Chan’s sad figure left alone on the other side.

You gape at him. “What was that for?”

Hyunjin scoffs. “You think you’re convincing? Think again.”

He hops up on to the counter and gestures for you to do the same. When you do, he pulls you closer, grabs your hand in his, and pushes your head down until it’s resting on his shoulder.

“Tell me the truth now,” he says, soft. “I know there’s more to it.”

Hyunjin’s warm to the touch. The heat seeps through the fabric of his shirt, igniting the skin of your cheek until you feel like you’re standing too close to the sun. A star. Hyunjin is a light in your tunnel.

“I am curious,” you start, “About him, I mean. I’ve– I don’t know. It’s been so long. I tried to pretend I didn’t care when I saw him, but the minute I looked into his eyes it was like I was eighteen again. Eighteen and happy and looking at someone that I always thought would be there, you know?”

Hyunjin hums but doesn’t say anything. He squeezes your hand once, a signal to keep going.

“I’m scared, though. Part of me doesn’t want to know.”

Hyunjin takes a deep breath. “What are you scared of?”

Through the gaps in the beads you can see into your office, the picture of your Grandma hanging on the wall. She stares at you, unblinking.

“What if he tells me that it’s true?” you ask, lifting your head to look up at him. “What if he says that I was right, that he didn’t care? That he left and didn’t want to call because it no longer mattered to him? That he loves his life there and only came back to clear his own conscience?”

“Oh honey,” Hyunjin soothes, pulling you into his chest. You hadn’t realized you were crying, that the anger and fear had bubbled over until there were tears falling down your cheeks, wetting the fabric of Hyunjin’s sweater.

He lets you cry for a while. It’s nothing new; Hyunjin has seen you break down countless times. He’s been there through the worst of it, held your hand even in the aftermath. He’s picked you up off the floor more times than you can count, has grounded you when you felt like the world was gonna open up beneath you and swallow you whole. Salt of the earth, returning you to its core.

Once you’ve quieted into nothing more than shallow breaths and a few scattered hiccups, Hyunjin speaks again.

“Can you be honest with me?”

You nod, the hair stuck to your cheek with tears rubbing against his shoulder.

“Do you love him?”

It nearly knocks the wind out of you. This concept, so foreign to you now, shoved to the back of your mind to make room for the things that matter most. Hospital visits, labor cuts, wage increases— none of it left any room for love, let alone the thought of someone else. Especially someone as all-consuming as Jisung.

Slowly, you inhale, breath shaking on the exhale. Hyunjin squeezes your hand to remind you that he’s there.

“I don’t think I ever stopped, Hyune.”

The silence stretches thin. The realization is dizzying. Years of suppressed emotions, of telling yourself and everyone around you that it wasn’t a big deal. The sad eyes of the townspeople whenever they’d see you sitting beneath the apple tree. The gentle touch of your grandma’s hand when she’d find you on the front steps alone, staring at the stars. The soft hum of the radio in the shop, set to a playlist of all the songs he’s written, the only reminder that somewhere out there he was doing well.

The final crack in the dam, its water pushing until it gives way.

“Then you owe it to yourself,” Hyunjin says. “You owe it to your heart to get an answer. Free yourself from this pain, love. Don’t let yourself suffer forever.”

Forever. That word again. No matter how many times you’ve tried to escape it, it always comes back.

“It’s gonna hurt.” he sighs, tightening his grip when you sniffle. “It’s gonna hurt so fucking bad, babe. But you can take it. You’ve got people who love you enough to stand in front of you and soften the blow from time to time. But you’ll be okay. I’ll make sure of it.”

He hops down from the counter and moves to stand in front of you, right between your legs. Placing both hands on your shoulders, he pushes until you’re sitting with your back straight and lifts your chin.

“You deserve an answer.” he says, with conviction this time. “Okay?”

He lets his thumb swipe beneath your eyes, smiles softly. Unconditional— that’s what he is. Hyunjin burns brighter than any star in your sky, the heat wrapping its arms around you like it’s too scared to let go, to watch you freeze and die out like so many others.

“I don’t deserve you, though.” you say, laughing wetly when he rolls his eyes.

“Shut up,” he chuckles, pulling you in for a hug, “You deserve everything and more.”

When Jisung comes into the shop two days later, you’re ready for it.

Chan had talked to him. No surprise, really, not when he’s been letting him crash in his spare room ever since he figured out that he was holed up in one of the hotels out in the tourism hub.

If there’s one thing about Chan, it’s that he’d rip the shirt off his back to clothe anyone in need. Housing a friend is nothing, especially when that friend is Jisung.

“I don’t know how much of a consolation this is,” he’d said nervously, watching as you regarded him with an expectant look, “But he’s pretty cut up about you not wanting to see him. Which, I know, is stupid. He is the one who fucked up. But I just– I don’t know. I’ve never seen him like this, I guess.”

It’s not a consolation, not really. Knowing that Jisung is struggling is far from anything you want to hear.

Sure, there’s anger present. Anyone would be stupid to not feel the least bit frustrated with what’s happened. Years lost, time stripped away. But you’ve long since come to terms with it, the anger turning to sadness in the meantime.

“Also, he leaves tomorrow.” Chan smiled sadly. “He really wants to talk to you before then.”

Hyunjin left early again today to give the two of you space. Not before making a show of his own though, threatening to incite violence with his arms that are supposedly ‘shredded’ from years of lifting boxes filled with petunias.

The shop is slow again, not many sales nor a lot of foot traffic. Usually when the sun is out there’s more to do; people to see, smiles to give. But there’s nothing, just the chirping of birds and the sound of cars rolling by.

Maybe the world knows that this is what you need. The calm before the storm.

Five minutes until close. You’ve spent most of the day pacing back and forth. Waiting. Anticipating.

Chan had said Jisung planned on stopping by, trying again. You’d told him that was okay, and his eyes lit up. Too much hope, maybe, that something might come of this.

You’re seated in the back office, staring at marigold colored irises when the front door opens. You hear it this time, ears fine tuned, waiting.

Slowly, you stand, make your way to the front. You don’t realize you’re holding your breath until you pull back the beaded curtain and Jisung’s figure comes into view.

He looks the same as he did the other day: curled hair, thick glasses, parted lips. His sweater, fluffy and striped, hangs off of his shoulders in a way that boxes off his tapered waist, one that you know is hidden beneath all the layers. The sleeves are way too long judging by the way it curls over his fingers.

“Hi.” he breathes out, watching as you step into full view.

You blink. “Hi, Jisung.”

His name feels weird on your tongue. Bitter. It’s been years since you uttered it, forbidding yourself from the luxury out of fear that it would make his absence more real. Talking about him in the past tense always scared you off before you could even get the chance.

“How– How’ve you been?” he chews on the inside of his lip.

You want to scold him, tell him to stop the habit just like you always would in the past. He’d make a joke then, tell you to kiss him so that he had something else to do instead. You would laugh, feign disgust, but in the back of your mind you’d wanted it more than anything.

You’d waited for it, the day you could kiss him without warning and melt into his touch as he kissed you back. Another stupid bet on forever; the belief that you had all the time in the world for things to get to that point.

“I’ve been better.” you say, taking a deep breath. “What about you?”

Good, you think. He’s been good. He looks good. He doesn’t need this place.

“Me too.” he says instead. “I’ve been better.”

You don’t know what to say to that. Silence fills the room, heavy on both your chests. The anticipation feels like it might kill you before anything else does.

“I’m sorry that–”

“Is that all you came here to say?” you cut him off.

“What?” he asks, confused. “No, I– no.”

“What, then? What is it you want to say, Jisung?” your voice is firm. He winces when his name leaves your mouth. “Because, honestly, I’ve waited all this time to hear literally anything from you, and if all that comes out of this is that you’ve ‘been better’ I might actually lose my fucking mind.”

The words tumble out faster than you intend. You can’t help it, not with the way anxiety has been bubbling over in your chest since the moment you woke up this morning. You could barely sleep last night, not when you were playing out every possible scenario in your head, the anticipation of it all making your sheets feel scratchy against your skin and the lumps in your pillow more discernible.

“No, no, of course I wouldn’t do that.” he says quickly. “It's just that I didn’t know where to start. I don’t know how much you’ll allow me to say, what the boundary is here. I didn’t want to just barge in and demand you listen to me. You don’t owe me that. You don’t owe me anything. Not after what I did.”

What I did, his voice rings loud in your ears. He’s aware of it, of the pain he caused.

He takes a step forward, and then another, again and again until he’s right up against the front counter, an arm’s length away.

Your breath catches then, when you see him up close for the first time in four years, see the way he’s grown and changed with your own eyes.

Stubble dotting his chin, laugh lines around his mouth, the dip and curve of the bow above his lips that you always loved. Brown eyes, soil and stardust.

“Tell me what your conditions are,” he says quietly, “And I’ll give you every explanation I have.”

The sincerity on his face is blinding. Your stomach twists at the thought of hearing what he has to say, that same fear brewing in the pit of it. You take a deep breath, feel the phantom ghost of a hand squeezing yours and a crescent moon eye smile.

“I waited four years for you.” you say.

“I know.”

“I trusted that you’d be back. That you would keep in touch during the time you were gone.”

“I–” his voice cracks. “I know.”

“You lied to me.”

Jisung tips his head back then. Swallows down a lump in his throat. Blinks rapidly at the ceiling, veins of ivy crawling along the expanse of it.

“I know.”

“So you owe me everything. I deserve that. I deserve answers.”

When he brings his head down to look at you, it’s unreadable. A mix of emotions that you aren’t familiar enough with anymore to decipher. Fear, guilt, sorrow. Hope, too. Maybe.

You stare at him head on, fully letting your eyes meet for the first time in what feels like an eternity. He holds your gaze, unwavering. Determined. The sight makes your heart clench.

“Okay,” he says after a beat of silence. “Okay. I can do that.”

Despite the ever-growing mountain of things to address, you decide that the first thing you want to hear from Jisung is about his time in Seoul.

You’re only human, after all.

Best friends from the start– you can’t stop yourself from wondering what life has been like for him. Jisung’s always been good at storytelling, animated in his features and gestures to the point that you’d be rolling around and clutching your stomach from laughter. It’s one of the things you missed the most, just talking and being present in one another’s lives.

The two of you end up at one of the diners down the road. The owners, an elderly couple, coo as soon as they catch sight of you.

“My flower girl,” the old lady, Mrs. Kim, greets.

“Mrs. Kim,” you beam, moving in for a hug. When you pull away, Jisung is behind you, hands clasped behind his back and feet together like he has his tail between his legs.

“Halmeoni,” you say, gesturing at him, “Do you remember Jisungie?”

His eyes go wide at the nickname, and you try to ignore the heat creeping up your neck, avoiding his gaze and instead watching as Mrs. Kim blinks in surprise.

“Oh! Oh my goodness, our Jisungie? Honey! Honey, look, Jisung is here! Oh you crazy boy,” she scolds, rushing forward to hit his shoulder and pull him in for a hug. “Where have you been? It’s been ages!”

Jisung lets out an oof! as her body slams into him, all of his anxiousness dissolving into laughter as he hugs her back.

“Hi Mrs. Kim, how have you been?”

“Me?” she asks, pulling him away to hold at arm’s length, “Nevermind about me! I’m old! How have you been?”

Good, you think again, a mimic of earlier. Jisungs eyes flit over to yours for the smallest of moments before he answers.

“Better,” he says. “I’m doing better.”

Once both Mr. and Mrs. Kim are done doting over the both of you, they seat you by the window.

The island is always beautiful on sunny days: trees swaying, golden rays painting the rooftops in hues of pink and orange, the indigo shimmer of the ocean off in the distance.

“So,” you say, catching Jisung’s attention, “Tell me about Seoul.”

He hums. “It’s busy. Stinks. Lots of people.”

“Dream come true, yeah?” you joke, taking a sip of your water.

Jisung chuckles. “You could say that, I guess.”

“I mean, it was yours.”

“It was.” he sighs, looking down at the table. “I don’t know. It’s nice. I met good people, made even better connections. I live in this one bedroom studio apartment just outside of Itaewon, so I’m close to where all the foreigners hang out. I’ve learned a lot, gained a lot of inspiration for my music.”

You follow along, staring at him intently. His mouth, still heart-shaped, twitches when he catches you in the act.

You clear your throat, glancing away. “Yeah, I’ve– uh, I’ve heard some of your songs.”

He raises his eyebrows, almost like he hadn’t expected you to say that. “Really?”

“Yeah. I mean, I hear them on the radio sometimes.” A lie. “It usually takes me a second to realize that it’s you.” Another lie. “But they’re good, you’re doing well.”

Pink dusts the tops of Jisung’s cheeks as he turns back to the window, clearing his throat.

He looks younger like this, like he’s still the same boy who would sit across from you all those years ago. Cherry-stained lips and a smile so bright it put the sun to shame.

He talks a bit more about his music, about how he’s with a good company that gives him creative freedom and enough support to pursue more if he desires.

His eyes light up when he tells you about his studio, a small room on the fifth floor of a building in the middle of the city where he does all of his writing. It’s equipped with an entire soundboard, full of instruments that he says he’s been able to get signed by artists that come in and out. Most notably, his guitar, the same one he left with.

Slowly, like a flower blossoming, petals opening one by one, you feel yourself falling back into step with him.

Everything is so familiar: the curve of his smile, the tilt in his voice when he gets excited, the rumble of laughter when he recounts an embarrassing run-in with an A-list celebrity in the company’s cafeteria. He shares stories that fill your heart as the two of you fill your stomachs.

But with the ease comes something more, something you recognize as longing. You hadn’t realized how much you longed to be there through this part of his life, how you wished you’d been the one to answer a video call as he showed off his apartment the first day he moved in, his company badge when it was newly issued, every moment of happiness that you’d been absent for just as much as he was absent for yours.

He seems to share the same sentiment then, when he sets down his fork and stares at his empty plate.

“You run the shop now,” he says, “How’s that been?”

You purse your lips, nodding your head slowly. You knew this conversation would happen, that it was coming.

“It’s good, I guess. Been almost a year now since, uh, it was left to me.” you shrug. “I’m not alone though, Hyunjin is a big help. I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

Jisung noticeably bristles. Eyebrows pulled together, staring more intently at a crumb on his plate. It looks like there’s a lot he wants to say, like he can’t find the words to say them.

So, naturally, you do it for him.

“I assume Chan told you so I wouldn’t have to, by the way.”

He looks up then, as if he wasn’t expecting you to address the very obvious elephant in the room.

“He did, yes.” Jisung says after a while. His voice is quiet, gentle, like he’s walking on eggshells. “I– I didn’t know how to bring it up. I assume you’ve heard it all already but– I really, really am sorry to hear about Nana.”

The way her name sounds coming out of his mouth turns your mind to static.

Suddenly you’re in the hospital again, monitors beeping, hands as soft as petals cradled in your own and wishing that you could bury your face in a familiar neck as you cried and watched the marigolds wilt.

“I don’t need an apology for that.” you croak, blinking back tears. Jisung is somewhere in your periphery, your vision blurry around the edges.

“It wasn’t sad. Her life, I mean. It was full. Of love. Of light. She left this place happy. That’s what she told me, at least.”

You take a deep breath. “So don’t be sorry about it.”

Jisung sniffles, and the sound shoots straight through your chest.

“I know. I just– I’m sorry I wasn’t here. I should’ve been. I had no idea that–”

“Nobody did, Jisung. Don’t punish yourself for that.”

He sees it then, when you finally meet his eyes, the acceptance. You’ve come to terms with things a long time ago, have fought tooth and nail to come out on the other side of all the guilt and resentment and grief alive. Scathed, but alive nonetheless.

“You’re right.” he sighs, wiping at his eyes quickly. “She’d probably yell at me for saying that.”

You laugh, suddenly, the noise startling him. Jisung looks at you like you’re crazy.

“I think she has a lot more to yell at you for than being sorry that she died.”

The bluntness punches a chuckle out of him, and you giggle at the thought.

Your grandmother was always such an outspoken person. She always said what was on her mind, speaking it loud. There’s no doubt that if she was here she’d be berating Jisung, smacking him upside the head before pulling him into a hug and cooking his favorite meal. Tough love, but still, love.

“She would’ve loved to be able to see you.” you say once your laughter dies out, the air a bit lighter between the two of you. “She always wondered if you’d grow your hair out without her around to nag you about keeping it short.”

He reaches up to run a hand through his curls, the strands falling around his face in a way that has your heart stammering in your chest.

“Well, clearly I don’t know how to listen.”

“No, you don’t.”

Jisung smiles softly. “Maybe I’ll cut it now. You know, since I’m here. And because I know she’d want me to.”

You watch him carefully, searching his eyes. For what, you don’t know. All that’s in them are stars.

“Yeah,” you say quietly. “You’re here.”

By the time the two of you leave the diner, stomachs full and enough bags of extra side dishes hanging off of your arms to last you at least two weeks, courtesy of Mrs. Kim, the sun is almost fully set.

The ocean is calm, the evening breeze just barely brushing the surface of the tide. Jisung walks in step with you down the street, one side of his face cast in a glow from the sun’s fading rays.

“Do you think you’d maybe want to stop by the arcade that Old Man Park runs? Just for a little?”

You snort. “Why? So I can embarrass you?”

“Hey!” he puts a hand on his chest, offended. “I’ll have you know that I let you win all those times.”

“How do you let someone win after spending hours practicing while I worked at the shop?”

“I was being nice!”

“Uh huh.”

“Don’t believe me?” he grins. You try not to look, afraid of how bad your blood pressure might spike from the sight.

“I’ll have you know that I’m one of the best Kart Rider players in the PC Bang scene back in Seoul.”

“Jisung,” you scold, “That’s a computer game. These are coin-ops. There’s way more skill needed.”

“No there isn’t!”

He knocks his shoulder against yours, tucking his chin to his chest to hide his smile when you try to fight back.

It’s easy. Nice. There’s a soft melody echoing in the dust-covered chambers of your heart. You still know all the chords.

Old Man Park’s arcade is a few doors down from the shop. You stop there to drop off the food, spare a glance in the mirror hanging in your office to fix your hair.

Your grandma’s picture stares at you from the other wall, eyes bright.

“Love you,” you say, kissing the skin of your fingertips and pressing it gently against the frame.

Jisung is toeing at a few rocks on the sidewalk when you walk back out. He doesn’t see you, too busy with his eyes casted down at the concrete, hands shoved into his pockets.

It’s still hard to believe that he’s here. Flesh and bone. For a long time it felt like he was nothing but a distant dream, someone who only existed in the memories that you kept locked deep within your heart, the key somewhere on the streets of Seoul.

“Ready?” you ask.

He looks up, his glasses moving when his cheeks round into a smile.

Something passes across his face– a myriad of emotions in just a fraction of a second. Hesitantly, he holds out his hand. Long, delicate fingers.

You stare at it, swallowing roughly around the butterfly wings flapping inside your throat.

The one thing you shouldn’t do, my dear, is rely on forever. Because that, too, is uncertain.

Forever isn’t promised. But even then, there are things you know for sure:

It’s February. The tulips are in bloom. Jisung is here. Living, breathing, in the flesh.

So you take his hand, watch as relief floods his features, and let yourself feel.

The wind in your hair, the calluses on Jisung’s palms, and the warmth radiating out of the smile that threatens to split his face into two.

And with that certainty, the two of you start walking. A silent agreement to focus on the now.

You. Him. This.

“God, I can’t believe everything is only one coin.”

You laugh, watching as the multi-colored lights cast a glow on Jisung’s face.

“Stop acting like you don’t remember this place.”

“I don’t!” he argues, smiling. “We stopped coming here, what, in middle school? Once Chan hyung started driving? We would always ask him to take us to the other one out in the big town!”

Chan’s first car was an old Camry with leather seats and enough room for the three of you to pile into after school. Used, but still with enough juice to satisfy three young kids who felt like they were on top of the world.

You used to sit in the back, the wind whipping your hair every which way while yours and Jisung’s hands lay side by side in the middle seat, pinkies brushing but neither of you willing to take it further.

“Oh, shit!” Jisung gasps, letting go of your hand as he runs up to the space invaders machine.

“Here we go,” you sigh, following after him. He’s like a kid in a candy store, face filled with innocent wonder and joy.

“Aren’t there, like, I don’t know– things better than this in Seoul?” you ask as he shoves a coin into the game.

Jisung turns to look at you with a devilish grin. “Obviously,” he says, “But I can’t beat anyone’s high score over there. Here though? Ha! This place is ancient. I can finally be at the top of the leaderboard in something.”

“We’ll see about that.” you mumble, the noise of the game booting up drowning you out.

Jisung sticks his tongue out when he focuses really hard on things. It’s cute, the way the end of it sits between his lips, spit-slick and parted just a little bit.

He’s glowing, probably because of the lights, hues of red and green and blue flashing across his face. But then again, Jisung has always shined brighter than anything.

The game beeps to signal that he has one life left. He grunts a few times, his fingers tapping the buttons madly as his other hand handles the joystick in a frenzy of movements.

When it ends, he groans, throws his hands up in defeat..

You shake your own head knowingly, watching his eyes bug out of their sockets as soon as the leaderboard appears on the screen, the 8-bit letters blinking at him.

“You’re joking.” he laughs in disbelief, turning to stare at you. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

There, on the screen, is your name. The highest score. Jeongin and Hyunjin’s names sit just below you, respectively.

“What was that again about finally being able to be at the top?” you mock him, smirking.

“Since when did you get good at this?”

You shrug. “Had to find something to do in my free time.”

“No,” he says, rolling up his sleeves. “Nuh-uh. No way. This is not happening. I will beat you.” he holds out his hand for another coin, to which you roll your eyes and place one in his palm.

“You might as well give up now. We’ll be here all night.”

“In your dreams.” he scoffs, assuming his position as another round loads onto the screen.

Jisung has always been competitive. It’s one of his more hidden characteristics.

It persists still, you realize, as you watch him burn through the styrofoam cup of coins that Old Man Park had given the two of you. Free of charge for old time’s sake.

Fort-five minutes. All he’s managed to do is bump Hyunjin down to fourth.

“Ugh!” he groans, kicking the machine lightly with his foot.

“Look at you throwing a tantrum.”

“I’m not throwing a tantrum.” he pouts. You raise an eyebrow.

“Okay fine. I’m throwing a tantrum.”

“Thought so.”

“Can you blame me?” he asks. “This is, like, our first date. And I’m sucking. Hard.”

“Our–” you stop, eyes wide. Jisung mimics you, almost like he didn’t mean to say what he did.

Heat rushes to your cheeks. Your mind goes blank. But the world doesn’t end. Time keeps moving. Jisung is still here.

“I didn’t–”

“I like the sound of that.” you say quickly. “Of this being our first date, I mean.’

He smiles. Slow and sweet like molasses. Blinding.

“And the fact that you suck.”

The moment is shattered, his resulting whine echoing throughout the arcade.

“Come on you big baby,” you laugh, grabbing his hand. “I know a game you can beat me at.”

He lets himself be pulled, pretending that he’s upset, but you can see the smile tugging at his lips when you lace your fingers together.

The feeling is still new, this ease you have with him. The wounds you sported all those years are still healing, some more fresh than others. But with each laugh that comes out of Jisung’s mouth and shared glance, every note that your heart sings, you can feel them beginning to fade. A balm to soothe the burn.

The Pac-Man game is situated in the back corner of the arcade, right next to the jukebox. It used to be your favorite, because Jisung would always use his own coins to play songs for you while you tried to score higher than twenty-five thousand points.

When you get there, he frowns. “The only game you think I can beat you at is Pac-Man?”

“I don’t think,” you say, grabbing a coin before shoving the cup into his chest. “I know.”

The game boots up instantly, and you smile softly to yourself when Jisung moves wordlessly behind you, slips a coin into the jukebox.

“Play something good, Jisungie.”

He freezes. Out of the corner of your eye you watch him stare at you for a long moment. And then he smiles. Stardust.

“You got it.”

In a matter of seconds, Lovers In A Dangerous Time by Bruce Cockburn rings throughout the arcade, the speakers on the ceiling fighting past the static.

An old song. The same one your grandparents would dance to in the mornings, eggs on the stove and love in the air.

Your grandma used to say it was written for them, because when they fell in love the war was at its peak and she didn’t know if he’d ever come home.

After he passed, she still played it, except those times it was Jisung who twirled her around and painted a smile on her face as you watched from the same spot you grew up in. Always there.

Jisung, Jisung, Jisung.

When the game starts, you try your best. It’s hard. You’ve always been terrible at anything involving quick decisions. Focusing on everything at once isn’t easy for you, that much is still true.

“Shit.” you mumble, the top right corner of the screen reading ten thousand points as the ghosts run into you.

Jisung lets out a low whistle. “Harsh.”

“You wanna go back to space invaders and waste the last of our money?” you raise an eyebrow.

He holds his hands up in surrender. “Sorry, sorry. Go ahead.” he says, holding the cup out for you to take another coin.

You try a couple more times, failing each and every one. You can tell that Jisung is growing more and more amused with every attempt, and the smugness radiating off of him is starting to rub you the wrong way.

“If you’re so good,” you say after a particularly sad attempt, turning to glare at him. Jisung has his lips pulled tight to stop himself from laughing. “Then why don’t you try?”

He chuckles then. “I’d rather help you, if you’ll let me.”

“How are you supposed to do that? We only have one coin left.”

Jisung doesn’t say anything. He puts the cup down, the last coin held between his fingers. You watch as he slips it into the machine, move to get out of his way once he’s done, but he stops you by grabbing your hand and spinning you back around, his fingers placed over yours on the joystick.

With your back flush against his front, caged in by his arms on either side, Jisung takes a deep breath.

“This okay?” he asks right next to your ear, the curls on the side of his head brushing your cheek when he leans down to get a better look at the screen.

Warm. He’s so warm. The material of his sweater only worsens the heat, and the faint scent of vanilla makes your head swim.

It’s more than okay. Great, even. It’s Jisung. Everything and more.

“Yeah,” you say, letting him control your hands as he flicks the joystick. “It’s okay.”

The hair against your cheek moves when he smiles. “Good.” he says, and then hits the start button.

The game begins but you’re barely processing what’s happening, too aware of the feeling of his body pressed against yours.

A firm chest, different from what’s observable on the outside, what with the fluffiness of his sweater and soft features. His arms too, encasing you, the bulge and flex of his biceps every time he moves.

It’s all so intoxicating, so much so that you don’t even realize you’ve beaten the highest score in the system by the time he loses his last life.

“What?” you blink. “What the hell?!”

You laugh, spinning to face Jisung who’s grinning from ear to ear. In your excitement, you jump, flinging your arms around his neck. He’s surprised, but catches you nonetheless, circling his arms around your waist.

“Holy shit how’d you do that!” you squeal while he swings you around, feet off the ground.

“Magic, I guess.” he chuckles.

The closeness of his voice brings you crashing back down, suddenly aware of what position you’re both in. You pull back quickly, clear your throat, and watch as his face falls from the loss of contact.

It’s been a long time since you hugged Jisung. The thought transports you to that day four years ago, standing under the apple tree, the future uncertain. Forever promised.

Things are different now.

“Sorry,” he backtracks. “I didn’t– um, I wasn’t trying to–”

You cut him off by throwing yourself at him for a second time. Intentional. Breathless. Tired of running and acting like it’s not the thing you want most in the entire world.

Jisung doesn’t react until he feels your face against the skin of his neck. On instinct, he hugs tight, hands around your waist, breathing in the smell of your hair.

“Hi.” you whisper against him.

One word. Simple. However the weight of it sends a chill down his spine. It feels like home.

He tightens his hold. A silent understanding. The two of you never had much of a need for words anyways.

“Hi.” he whispers back.

The apple tree is much bigger now.

Long, thick branches, a wide trunk, a slight tilt in its shape.

It’s bare. The season is long gone. But it’s okay, because it means that the view of the stars isn’t blocked when you and Jisung lay beneath it.

It’s the same but it isn’t. There’s gaps– periods of time where the two of you grew separately. There are moments and memories tucked away that neither of you know about, whole lives to discover.

But even so, it feels right. His arm wrapped around you, your head on his chest. The stars and the moon. You and Jisung.

It’s nice. Perfect, even. But there’s a conversation that needs to be had. One that can’t be put off any longer.

“Ji.”

“Hm?”

“Can I ask you something?”

Jisung shifts beneath you, tightening his hold. The grass is damp. Neither of you care, too caught up in each other to stress about whether or not it’ll stain.

“Of course.”

“Am I ever gonna see you again?”

He takes a deep breath. “Yes.”

“You said that last time.”

“I know.”

“So what makes this different?” you ask, sitting up. He watches you carefully, eyes trained on every movement like he’s scared you’ll get up and run away.

When he realizes you’re waiting for an answer, he sits up too, pulls his knees to his chest and wraps his arms around his legs.

He doesn’t say anything, just wordlessly reaches into his pocket. Silently, he hands whatever he grabbed to you. A guitar pick.

It’s white, a marbled design. Golden flecks infused into the lines. There, on the front, is a singular marigold. When you flip it over, you’re met with a tulip.

“Do you remember that one time, when you called me crying at midnight because Nana told you that she didn’t know if she’d be able to afford school in the city?”

You nod silently, still turning the guitar pick over in your hand.

It was one of those nights where the rain was relentless. Monsoon season always tagged on to the tail end of the school year, bringing with it a more intense gloominess than usual.

You’d been angry. Stressed. Irritated that other kids at school were making plans to go to the mainland for college and you were stuck helping your grandmother trim foliage and wrap vases in newspaper.

“You told me that you couldn’t do it anymore.” Jisung whispered, staring up at the sky. “That you were tired of being here. That you needed to get out.”

You remember. Jisung had walked through the rain to show up at your window. Had climbed in with muddy shoes and sat on the floor of your room with you until the downpour stopped and your tears dried.

“And I said that I would make it happen, that I would invent a way to live amongst the stars so you could be as far from here as possible.”

“So what?” you ask, looking at him. “Did you finally do it, then? Is that why you came back?”

“Don’t be like that.”

“No, Jisung, I’m gonna fucking be like that.” you scoff, rising to your feet.

There’s a fire in your veins, stoked until the embers are burning hot against your throat. Too good to be true. You should’ve known that there was no explanation left for him to give.

Jisung scrambles to his feet. “It wasn’t like I wanted to–”

“Oh like hell you did.” you say, turning to face him. “Four years, Jisung. I waited four years and you just– you come back and decide to tell me about some make-believe bullshit to save yourself and feel less guilty about the fact that you left.”

“It wasn’t make-believe to me,” he argues. “It was real. Everything I said was real. I left and I tried for years to make something of myself so I could come back here and get you.”

“Oh so it’s my fault? I made you leave, is that it?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“So then say something else!” you yell. The stars rumble, threatening to fall out of the sky. “Say something else, then, Jisung. Why didn’t you call? Huh?”

“Because I–” he stops, licks his lips. “God. Fuck. I couldn’t face you if I had nothing to show for myself, okay? It wasn’t fair to you for me to leave you behind just so I could fail.”

“Ha!” you laugh, running a hand through your hair in disbelief. “So you decided to go radio silent instead? Decided to not only leave me alone but let me suffer and wonder about where you were because that’s so much better than telling me that you were struggling, right? Great choice, Jisung. Really.”

He blinks a few times, watching as you pace back and forth in the grass.

Anger bubbles deep in your gut. This whole time, he knew. It was a conscious decision. Jisung deliberately didn’t contact you because he chose not to.

“Did you ever even love me?”

The words tumble out before you can stop them. Jisung’s entire body goes rigid, his face falling and eyes hardening within a fraction of a second.

“Watch what you say.” he says, his voice low in his chest.

“I wouldn’t have to if you’d just be honest.”

“I’m trying.” he pleads. His eyes are glossy. Big and round behind his glasses. Illuminated by the moon.

“I fucked up, okay? I prioritized myself and the way I felt over you and fucked everything up. But I tried. I tried so fucking hard. And I’m sorry it took me so long but I wanted– no– I needed to make sure that I had everything figured out before I came back. I promised I would.”

“No, Jisung, you promised me that–”

“I’m not talking about you.” he says then, taking a deep breath. “You weren’t the only one I made promises to back then.”

Before you have a chance to speak, Jisung says, “I promised her. I told her I’d get you out of here. That I’d give you a life that you deserved, because she knew she couldn’t.”

You drop to your knees when the first sob hits, the force of it racking your body so hard you feel like you’re drowning. Jisung catches you on the fall, holds you up, lets you bury your face into his neck like he had so many times before.

“She told me you believed in forever. She wanted me to give that to you. I’m sorry it took me so long.”

Jisung lets you cry. He holds you through the storm, your wails as loud as thunder and tears as heavy as rain. Four years in the making; the sky and the earth colliding until the dirt and layers of sediment give way to the molten core that’s been hiding beneath the surface all along.

Pain. Grief. All of it pent up and leading to this moment.

“You should’ve told me.” you cry, beating a fist into Jisung’s chest. “You idiot. You fucking idiot. You should’ve told me.”

Jisung pulls you in closer, takes each hit as long as it means that it’ll soften the blow on your heart. He whispers apologies in your ear, runs a hand through your hair.

When it quiets again, the worst of the storm gone, he shifts so that your head is in his lap, his legs crossed and tucked beneath him. A few stray tears wet the fabric of his jeans, your eyes focused on the field of flowers across the street.

“I won’t ask you to come with me.” he says after a long while, when your breathing has evened out. “I know that things are different. You have a life here that you’ve made for yourself, responsibilities to bear as well.”

He pauses to push a few strands of hair out of your face. His fingers are gentle against the skin of your cheek.

“But I promise it’ll be different. I spent too long away from you, was too selfish for my own good. I won’t disappear again. I’ll call every day. I’ll visit. You’ll get every part of me that I kept away from you all this time, and I’ll get every part of you in return.”

Your heart thrums. The thought of having what you’ve wanted for so long. Of having Jisung.

“And when you’re ready, when you feel like you can’t do it anymore, there’ll be a place for you.”

His voice is firm. Confident. More sure than he’s ever sounded before in his life.

When you turn to face him, he’s already staring back. Jisung, with all the stars in his eyes and a heart full of dreams. Jisung, with the world at his fingertips and the offer to make it yours.

Under the apple tree, Jisung leans down and kisses you for the first time. Twenty four years in the making, soft and slow, his lips a perfect fit against yours. A starboy and his flower girl. His glow is so bright it makes blossoms sprout from her fingertips.

Soft curls tickle your eyelids when he pulls away to rest his forehead against yours. You reach up to run a hand through them, smiling softly when he presses a kiss to the tip of your nose.

“I love you.” you say first this time.

He reaches out a hand, closes it over your fist that’s still clutching the guitar pick. A marigold and a tulip, both working together to make a perfect harmony.

“I love you, too.” Jisung whispers back. “Forever.”

Jisung stops by the shop early to say goodbye.

There’s less tears this time, less of a reason to be sad. But still, when he wraps his arms around you, vanilla filling your nose and curls against your face, you feel your composure crumble.

“Every day.” he says, repeating the same thing he did all night. “I promise. Morning and night. Also at lunch. Oh, and on your days off. Matter of fact, you can call when you’re on the toilet too.”

The last part earns him an elbow to the ribs, his laughter bubbling up and out of his throat as he tries to dodge any and all subsequent attacks.

He kisses you stupid before he goes, Chan rolling his eyes from his car out front. You flip him off blindly, Jisung’s lips still attached to yours, earning a loud honk in response.

When he leaves, the shop is quiet, the only sound being the buzzing of your phone as Jisung blows it up with text messages the second the car pulls away.

You’re too busy replying, giggling to yourself when a slew of cute emoticons start appearing one by one, that you nearly fall over out of your chair when Hyunjin bursts through the door.

“Jesus Christ Hyune, did you have to–”

“What the hell are you doing here?” he asks, breathless.

“Uh,” you blink, glancing round. “Working?”

“Is Jisung not on a damn plane right now?”

“I mean he’s on his way to the airport. Chan is–”

“Chan hyung told me that Jisung wanted you to go with him.” Hyunjin says, brow furrowed.

You sigh. “He didn’t want me to go with him. Well, okay, he did. But I told him I can’t just pick up and leave. He knows that. Nana left this place to me and–”

“You are so stupid.” Hyunjin sighs.

“Excuse me?” you ask. You stand up, crossing your arms as you walk closer to the counter.

“Come on. We have to go.”

“Go where, Hyunjin? I’m not leaving to–”

He cuts you off, places an envelope on the wooden surface. “And I am not letting you stay here and pretend that this is what you want.”

“What is that?”

“A plane ticket.” he says, pushing it towards you. “To Seoul.”

Your mouth opens and closes, lost for words. Hyunjin is already moving around the counter, pushing past you with an expression the most serious you’ve ever seen on him.

“Hyunjin I– I can’t– where did you even…?”

“Chan hyung has a friend.” he mumbles as he begins pulling stuff out of the office. Your planning notebook, your apron, the picture of your grandma off the wall. All of it thrown into a small box he managed to snag from somewhere off to the side.

“His name is Seungmin or something. Met him out in the tourist hub. Dude’s super rich with tons of miles and apparently owed Chan for a drunken night where he needed to be escorted to his hotel. So thanks to him, you’re leaving.” he explains as he grabs the box with both hands and starts walking towards the door.

“Wait.” you stop him, watching as he turns to regard you with a look that says his patience is running thin.

“I told you I can’t leave, Hyunjin. This place is where I need to be.”

He huffs, places the box on the ground in front of him. His hair falls in waves around his face, a shimmery dark brown beneath the rays of the sun poking into the room.

“Can you be honest with me?” he asks.

You nod, slowly.

“Do you love him?”

Hyunjin watches you with careful eyes. Reads you like a book, something he’s always been good at. You don’t doubt that it’s written on your face. Star-kissed cheeks and eyes as bright as marigolds.

“So much that it hurts, Hyune.”

Hyunjin smiles, eyes watery. “Then you deserve to go. You deserve your chance to be free. Don’t worry about this place, I’ll take care of it.”

The familiar sting of tears sits behind your eyes. Your heart swells full of love for this friend, this light, this beacon of unconditional love in the shape of your best friend.

“I don’t have clothes.” you manage to say around the lump in your throat.

Hyunjin shakes his head, tears spilling down the bridge of his nose.

“I’ll send them to you.”

“There’s a lot to do around here for just one person. What if you need me?”

“I’ll manage.”

You round the corner quickly, throwing yourself into his chest. He catches you with ease, wraps his arms around your body as the both of you cry into each other.

“I’ll miss you.” you say weakly.

Hyunjin’s throat bobs against the top of your head. “I’ll always be here in our little corner of the world.”

The two of you stay like that for a while. Hyunjin’s warmth seeps into your skin, lights you ablaze. By the time he pulls away, his hands on your shoulders, you feel like you’re floating. Unreal.

“I don’t have a way to get there.” you say quickly, glancing at the clock.

Jisung’s plane leaves soon. The airport, the only one on the island, is a thirty minute drive. You’re at a disadvantage the more time you spend not moving.

“Don’t worry,” Hyunjin chuckles. “I’ve got that taken care of.”

You open your mouth to ask him what he means when you’re cut off by the sound of honking from outside. Confused, you run to the door, your jaw dropping as soon as you realize who’s waiting for you.

“Hurry up people we don’t have all day!” Jeongin calls, his upper body hanging out of the window. He’s parked outside in a beat-up truck, arms waving wildly when he spots you.

“Innie!” you scream, pushing through the door to run at him. He jumps out of the truck just in time for you to barrel into his chest, laughter loud in your ears as he spins you around.

“You’re here! Oh my god I thought you weren’t coming for another two weeks.” you say in disbelief once he puts you down.

He looks older, more sophisticated. His hair is rusted and falls past his ears, the ends just barely touching his shoulders.

“Yeah, well,” he shrugs. “I figured I’d show up earlier. You know, see you before you leave, catch up with my parents, help Hyunjin break into your house. The usual.”

“Help Hyunjin break into my what–” you say, but you stop when your eyes fall on the small suitcase in the backseat. Your own bag, the one that’s been sitting in your closet untouched for years now.

“For the last time,” Hyunjin says from behind you, carrying the box in his arms. “It’s not breaking and entering if I have a key. Which, by the way, I told you would come in handy one day.”

He sets the box down next to the luggage and dusts his hands on his pants. When he turns to face you, he’s smiling, eyes disappearing into crescent moons.

With tears threatening to spill once again, you stare at the both of them, your heart bursting at the seams. “I love you guys.”

Jeongin grimaces, opts for getting back in the driver’s seat as you laugh. Hyunjin rolls his eyes and ushers you inside of the truck.

“Yeah, yeah. Save it.” he says. “Right now, you have a plane to catch.”

The airport is crowded.

There are tons of people everywhere, some saying hello and some saying goodbye. Hyunjin explained the gate system to you before you left him and Jeongin on the curb, and you keep glancing down at your ticket to make sure none of the information has changed in the past thirty seconds since you last looked.

Thankfully, your gate isn’t far. With twenty minutes to go until boarding, you can feel the sweat building up beneath the hand that’s curled around your suitcase handle.

It’s scary thinking about the fact that this is it. That you’re finally leaving.

It’s bittersweet, too. There’s an excitement in the pit of your stomach as well as a feeling of dread in your chest, both of them meeting in the middle somewhere.

You let your eyes scan the crowd, searching for wavy hair and thick-rimmed glasses. However, the first thing you see is the familiar neck of a guitar, strapped right on to a back that you would know and recognize anywhere without warning.

Jisung is seated near the gate, his eyebrows furrowed and lips set in a pout as he glares down at his phone. You realize that he’s probably wondering why you won’t answer, why all of his emoticons are going ignored.

Quietly, you come up behind him, reach into your pocket, and say, “Excuse me? I think you dropped this.”

Jisung startles, his eyes falling on to the guitar pick being held out in your hand. Slowly, he lets his gaze follow upwards, wide-eyed and shocked.

“What– what are you doing here?” he asks.

You place the pick in his hand. “I'm on my way to Seoul. There’s a guy there that I’ve been trying to find for a while.” you say.

Jisung catches on quickly. “Oh, really?” he asks, moving over so you can sit beside him. “This guy must be pretty great if you’re leaving for the mainland.”

The rain starts hitting the tarmac outside right as you sit down. “Hm, yeah. He is. He really likes the stars. He says that he found a way for me to live in them, too.”

He laughs, the sound making your stomach flip. “Sounds like you’re excited.”

You nod. “I am. He promised me that we’d do a lot together, experience new things. Apparently he’s gonna write songs and I’m gonna be a nerd.”

Jisung snorts and reaches across to link his hand with yours.

“He’s really lucky.” he says, leaning over to plant a kiss on your lips.

You smile into it. “So am I.” you whisper into his mouth, your heart stuffed to the brim with flower petals.

And when Jisung smiles back, his other hand coming up to cup your cheek and give you another kiss with the force of a thousand suns, you feel the key you’d been searching for finally click into place.

Salt of the earth. Soil and stardust. A boy who glows so bright that his girl sprouts blossoms from her fingertips.

Forever isn’t promised. But then again, with Jisung by your side, there are things you know for certain:

It’s February. The tulips are in bloom. In Jeju– it rains.

And no matter what, despite all odds, you and Jisung will always find your way back to each other in the place where marigolds grow.

[tags: @skzstarnet @snowyquokka @palindrome969 @summergirlsmj @n1staytiny @drhsthl @strwbrrychannie @shays-library @giuliadesu @iknowyouknowminho @linocz @pynchkilledme @jisunglyricist @itsgghowitsgg @alician87 @skzms @meloncremesoda @ilychee08 @allaboutsan @legally-lixs @stayceebs97 @candyquokka @chans1aptop @liknws @realrintaro @beeracha @vxllxnsworld @feelikecinderella @caitxx1 @lilac13 @sebastianswhore13 @classiclitandmemes @hyunverse @linosazuna @lastgreatamericandynasty1 @bubbly-moon @cookiesandcreammy ]

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rageserenity · 6 months

Text

It's 2024. Are you still thinking about movieverse!Cherik? Because I am.

For the past several months, there's only been a very slow trickle of posts/fics in the xmcu cherik tag. Let's try to breathe some life back into this incredible pairing!

With one clear winner of my poll, here's thirty prompts for the thirty days of April. (This is a super chill, laid-back event---do these in any order, interpret them as loosely as you like! Create in any medium! Fic, art, gifs, meta, incoherent screaming about the otp…all winners in my book.)

The only rule here is to cherik too close to the sun. Alright. Here are the prompts.

Mutual Pining

Doesn't really even need elaboration! Write that horrifically slow slow-burn. Gif every time McAvoy made insane fuck me eyes on screen. Make a playlist of songs about impossible love.

2. Alternate Meetings

There are endless quotes about how these two complete each other in a way no one they'd met before or after ever did. How else could they have met?

3. Erik Has A Telepathy Kink

This is basically canon. Let my boy get freaky!

4. Canon Fix-It

All the times Fox fucked it up. There are endless options.

5. Hurt/Comfort

Put them in that Situation. Put them in that Blender. Break them apart and put them back together ❤️‍🩹

6. Canon Compliant

Draw that missing scene! Gif your favourite cherik moment!

7. Beach Divorce

Make it worse. Make it better. Show it to us exactly how it was. Break it down in a 3,000 word meta. Go wild!

8. Domestics

Sometimes you just want to see them doing normal couple things. Erik put the gun down.

9. Found Family

The real heart of x-men!

10. Time Travel

There are SO many possibilities here. Stick them in a time loop. Give them a chance to change their past.

11. AU

Love a good AU!

12. There Is Only One Bed

Had to get this one in here. What better way to amp up the tension?

13. Genosha

By some miracle, cherik actually did end up together at the end of 2019s trash bag disaster Dark Phoenix. We aren’t making a big enough deal about this.

14. Declaration(s) of Love

Who says it first? How do they say it and when? Have they said it…without saying it?

15. Jealousy

Need I say more.

16. Reunion

These two have absolutely no chill.

17. Soulmates

Classic prompt, had to get this in here too.

18. The DOFP Aircraft

The TENSION here. Break it down for me. How does Charles feel about his injury? How does Erik feel about his injury?

19. Gay Mutant Road Trip

You already know.

20. Body Swap

SO fun when people have superpowers.

21. First Kiss

When? How? Who initiated it?

22. The Mansion

Mansion!content is a genre of its own.

23. Conflicting Ideology

Give me your theses. Who’s right? Can they ever reconcile completely? Write a fic where it drives them apart.

24. Sebastian Shaw

A trope unto himself.

25. Team As Matchmaker

They had to have known something was going on, didn’t they?

26. Cooking

Charles deserves a good meal. Also, imagine Erik using his powers in the kitchen. The sheer domesticity…

27. Hurt No Comfort

Plenty of scope with these two 🥲

28. Growing Old Together

Giving Sirs Ian Mckellan and Patrick Stewart their props as well!

29. Making Up

*pushes chess board across the table* sorry babe

30. Charles Xavier Did More For Mutants Than You'll Ever Know

Rising to each other’s defense. Only I can insult this man.

I will be tracking #revivecherik to reblog stuff! Here’s a fic collection for the same. Let’s get this ball rolling! Please feel free to send me an ask if you’ve got anything to say! And most importantly, let’s all have fun 😁

*I know a few of you preferred something like a gift exchange because of the commitment factor—I’m super down to organise a tiny one for the handful of us! If this promptathon doesn’t flop horribly, we can hopefully do a whole bunch of stuff :)

If you read this post all the way through, please reblog for reach! Thank you! Hoping you participate come April.

Shoutout to @inmymagnetoera for reaching out and helping with this!

#revivecherik #cherik #charles xavier #erik lehnsherr #xmfc #james mcavoy #michael fassbender #x men days of future past #x men #charles x erik #magneto #professor x

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jasmines-library · 7 months

Note

Hiii!! Firstly, I love your writing and I hope you’re having a great day!! I was hoping to request a Winchester sibling fic where the reader is really comforted by physical touch but is really observant and receptive to the fact their brothers are emotionally constipated and touch starved so the reader has never really asked for it but then one day either just a bad day or bad hunt and the reader just asks the boys to hold them or one of them to sit in the back of the Impala with them? Thank you so so much and I hope you have a lovely day!! 🫶

So close, yet too far.

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

Summary: You just really need a hug.

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: Touch Starved, character death mentioned, swearing

p.s. Sorry for the long wait! I've got exams at the moment so they're taking up a lot of my time.

⛧ SPN MASTERLIST ⛧

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

Life as a hunter was never still. You were constantly moving. Constantly looking over your shoulder. Constantly chasing what could be your last day on earth. And you wouldn’t ever have said you regretted it. No. In fact, you wouldn’t have changed it for the world. Hunting creatures and saving the world? It was all You couldn’t have imagined a better life…

But sometimes you found yourself wanting life to just slow down for a minute. It was so hectic and you just needed a breath. A hug. With such a busy life, there was no time for just spending quality time with your brothers. Or anyone for that matter. It was an endless cycle: Wake up. Research. Hunt. Drive. Sleep. There was no time for sitting on the couch and watching cheesy movies together. Nor was there any time for curling up together like you used to do when you were smaller. You found yourself yearning for it. For a hug or simply just a gentle arm around your shoulder. It used to bring you so much comfort. But times were tough with all that had happened recently. The three of you were even more on edge than ever before.

Your brothers had always told you that you could ask them for anything. That you could tell them whatever you wanted… but this wasn’t just something you could ask them for. You had seen how they often shunned away from touch. From relationships. Having seen so much pain and having lost so many people…they struggled to allow themselves to let their guard down enough to enjoy a tender moment. Even with you. So no matter how much you yearned for it you could never bring yourself to push the want from your mind and into words.

So when the hunt went worse than you could have imagined you kept quiet.

Dean’s hand was right there; peeking out from the hem of his flannel. His fingers were bloody and calloused, scarred and covered in small cuts and yet his touch was still tender. You felt your own fingers itch to reach out and lace them between his. You wanted for him or Sam to wrap you up in their arms and hold you close. To squeeze your hand. Or a shoulder. But you knew that they had much more pressing matters to deal with that overshadowed “needy little sister”.

You trailed behind them, dragging your feet ever so slightly to kick up the dirt and leave trails between the orange leaves. You did not look up at your brothers because you knew you would see Dean's set jaw and Sam’s pinched eyebrows as they too mourned the hunt.

A small boy had been caught by a shtriga. He had been no older than 5 or 6 with these big, blue eyes that got impossibly wider as the creature stalked toward him. And his scream…it pierced through the air like a beam of light: clear as day yet providing no clarity. No safety like light should bring. Instead it was cold and filled with a gripping terror.

The three of you had been too slow. No matter how hard you dragged your stubborn limbs you couldn’t get to him fast enough. So now you trudged along in silence.

The sight of Baby did not, in fact, provide you with the relief you thought it would. Instead the gleaming of the bonnet against the moonlight just made your stomach churn. You knew that you would all try to bury the memory in a box, deep in the back of your mind. But it was never that easy. They tried hard, but you would hear them late at night. Dean hardly slept as he tried to drink his troubles away and Sam barely left his room. And then there was you who lay awake staring blankly at the ceiling as you wept softly, wrapping your arms around yourself to curl up in a ball. It didn’t bring the same comfort as theirs did, like it had done when you were small and naive when you crawled into their bed after a nightmare. When things weren’t so fucking complicated.

Tears pricked in the corner of your eyes as you reached for the metal handle. You couldn’t do it. You couldn’t sit in silence to be left with your own thoughts. You couldn’t be alone. Not right now.

“Sammy…” Your voice was quiet. Hushed. Barely a whisper pushed out on cracked lips that trembled.

Sam paused, his hand halfway between where he had been picking at the hem of his jeans and the handle of the passenger door. He lifted his head, humming softly in acknowledgement.

“Sit with me… Please.”

“Of course.” His face melted and he moved in one swift movement.

He slid in the backseat, leaning against the door frame and stretching out across the seats. He pulled you in to lean against his side, wrapping his arms around you. You lay your head on his shoulder, snuggling into his side. And began to weep.

“Kiddo?” Sam asked gently. “What’s up?” His hands traced small circles on your arm.

Dean reached over the back of the seat with a concerned look, though part of it could be easily mistaken for fear. “It’s not your fault, Sweetheart-” He started.

“Just…hold me. Please.” You clung onto Sam, your other hand reaching out to settle atop of Dean’s. Their touch was comforting, yet you couldn’t help the wavering as you wept. “I don’t want to be alone right now.”

And so they did. Sam nestled you further into his side, tucking your head beneath his chin and Dean clambered out of his seat to join the two of you in the back. He settled down on your other side, sandwiching you between the two of you. And they held you. They ran their fingers through your hair, held your hand and spoke to you. They held you tight and the three of you stayed close together, with no intention of moving any time soon.

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

SPN TAGS:

@defonotashleyr

@aestheticdaisies

@xxrougefangxx

@hell-o-kittys

@inlovewhithafairytale

@harleycao

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

#supernatural x reader #supernatural #spn x reader #spn x sister reader #supernatural x sister reader #supernatural x little sister reader #supernatural fanfiction #hurt/comfort #touch starved #Dean Winchester #Dean Winchester x Reader #Dean Winchester x sister reader #Sam Winchester #Sam Winchester x reader #Sam Winchester x sister reader

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shiningmystic · 1 month

Text

Messages from your Spirit Guides PAC 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

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

Welcome friends, to your sprit guide reading whoever your guides may be they always respond to you.

I only call upon the spirits that look fondly upon you and see the being beneath all the judgement and ego, there is just essence. Unconditional love is what I always dip down to even if there are days that I cannot do it for myself, I know it is always present and that gives me much comfort on my worst days. Mental health awareness is real and always check in with yourself especially being chronically honed in on the bad shit that happens around you or is happening. Cultivating slowness is an everyday job for all of us but when we do it we do become thankful. I'm a bit rusty so forgive me if some of my words may be repetitive. Drop a follow to know when I post another general reading!

Pick your Photo:

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Pile I: colors of light 🧚🏾‍♀️

The lovers (rx), 6 of pentacles, 9 of pentacles, the heirophant (rx), 9 of wands (rx)

Back of the deck: ace of cups (rx), knight of swords, 7 of cups

Pile one to begin, your guides sent me images of the sun peering through glass and reflecting rainbow colors which really makes me feel as though you are a deep person but from day to day you may feel dull. Your guides are reminding you, sending you messages of your inner light and how it shines out even if you hide it and reflects back in people places or things. There is a lot about beauty here and how to stay genuine to yourself; your beauty is unique and comparing your beauty to someone else’s is a crime against them and you. If you genuinely don’t think you’re beautiful on outside, then there are always ways to work with what we have when we are ready to tackle it (honestly sometime i need to cry it out). Now on with the card pull:

Wow, I feel a lot going on with so many messages, I’ll try and keep it concise.

First message: you will always be enough is a huge message. It doesn’t matter even if they left you, even if someone who you loved told you that you were too much or even feeling that way towards yourself and your guides do not agree. The more we believe that the more we hurt ourselves and continue to prove it right. Even if you are ‘too much’ there are people out there that would disagree. - huge lesson I’m learning is that two truths can exist at the same space even if they oppose the other. For example, when I talk about my trauma, I feel vulnerable and fearful yet after the fact I feel both emotions, strong and weak. Both fear and strength. You are not to much and even if they couldn’t handle you, your a whole lot of love and light especially from the energy from the image.

Message two: some of you are away from family or your country, things are changing and it’s overwhelming in many ways. There is a lot of choices and a lot of overwhelming feelings towards making them. Your guides are advising you to trust in yourself and ignore the voices around that do not harbor understanding. Trust in your own judgment and believe in what you’re doing because it is your life and your actions that shape it; you will be the one living with it so always believe in yourself, you know what’s best for you and even when we make that mistake, we need a gentle reminder that mistakes are apart of success. if you don't give yourself the space to learn then you will continue to never know what is for you.

Message three: it’s always you pile one that always gets the message to be kinder to yourself; life isn’t a strict fast paced all or nothing (obviously life is very hard now for many.) but your guides are reminding you life will have its downs and if you can’t take time for those downs then they will be crashes. I’m feeling loved ones coming through this pile, so just know your guides understand your struggle and want to remind you as well that they are always with you.

Lots of burn out energy, you are so strong, please believe me when I say you are enough.

To the lovely humans who broke up with someone or let go of a person who you love but was toxic, you did the right thing for yourself, i send you love my love.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆

Pile II: Stepping stones ☄️

8 of cups, the hierophant, 7 of cups (rx), ace of pentacles, temperance, the moon

Back of the deck: queen of wands and 2 of cups (rx)

Right now you’re stepping up to the unknown, it’s natural to be fearful of risk. Pile 2 I sense that good things will come to you when you make the choice, even with hesitation don’t doubt the choices you have already made. all we can do is what we know now. the effort you put into your work will pour back into you. I can sense a lot of hesitation but still moving forward and that takes courage! Your guides are proud of you stepping up to the plate.

I can see some people going back to school and graduating scared that they will never find stability. Some of you are taking chances and starting businesses especially creative ones (relatable content). Your guides are supporting you on your financial endeavors and know the future feels scary for many.

It’s very unstable in many places right now so I understand the confusion and the fear but the pendulum always swings back and things always go back into balance again even by force (which we shouldn’t let it to come to an extreme but whatever.) You are strong people but this creativity needs to be grounded in reality when it comes to money; be realistic and continue with your motivated attitude towards your endeavors. honestly some of you are and are focusing to hard on the little details, relax and just do what's in front of you.

Believe in yourself pile 2. You have grown to doubt yourself and abilities at times because of push back and it’s actually super healthy for intelligent people to question themselves but to much self doubt only leaves us frozen. Now is the time to go ahead and shine!

The energy for you is ripe with opportunities your guides are saying go ahead, take the calculated risk, do the thing you want to but just know take time to do it with love and integrity you will succeed.

The moon and the 7 of cups reverse tell me about your doubt, anxiety and not knowing what may happen is the worst but life is all about the mystery and discovering your path. dear wanderer, not all souls who walk a lonely path are lost, maybe you'll run into another.

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Pile III: Glowing mushrooms 🍄

Page of cups, Death, The Emperor, King of pentacles, strength (rx), Ace of pentacles, 4 of pentacles, Page of Swords

Your path to transformation takes determination and strength, but understand the power is within you and how you have gotten far.

Mushrooms are pretty crazy! They grow in so many places and are resilient; I’m not saying you’re a mushroom (even though honestly, it’s a vibe) but your guides are bringing it up. Every photo is connected to the pile it is above and yours is about your strength and resilience (pile 2 as well but it's much more emphasized here).

I mean so many people are keeping it together right now and you’re no different but I feel an extra sprinkle of shit being thrown your way recently or this could be a theme. Keep doing what you’re doing is a message for many but to keep taking the steps to this new life and I mean new life. I don’t mean moving away and starting over (unless that resonates) but you are changing it up, starting new habits and new routines, taking steps constantly at a different pace but never stopping, (it’s a lot that you have been juggling I’m surprised I don’t see the 2 of pentacles) Your guides are like Dang they got this.

Lots are taking big steps in life atm and your frozen on a choice (pile 2 also has some of that energy) there is a message of that you’re only human and sometimes it’s alright to be vulnerable and look back at the good times but the here and now is calling, stay focused and channel your emperor energy guys.

Please don’t neglect your mental health, many of you may be overworking even when you feel like you haven’t pushed yourself hard enough *whacks head* stop! You are working enough it’s just that things in reality are kinda messed up and that’s why there so many of us like this. the world is dysfunctional so of course we will be too. But of course that doesn’t solve the issue of having to keep on when your anxious and depressed, but a minute of your day is all you need to cry, to get a hug from someone, I always recommend self care. You can be strong and vulnerable at the same time and I’m willingly absorbing the information from my therapist on how two truths can exist at the same time even if they oppose the other. Be upset and when you can get up and finish that assignment, project, shipment, sale, you seriously got this but I know this is more about the stress and anxiety all this work carries with it.

Stable energy is present in the spread which makes me feel like your guides are just cheering you on knowing how hard it has been and that you are reaching positive new things especially with Death and this transformation that been going on. Be wary of spending for right now (as i assume you are tbh) but know that finances energetically will grow , just stay on task and carry yourself with pride because you are amazing!

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆

So those were the messages I picked up on, I hope they comfort and support you in some way, or even give you advice. Stay humble and lovely my friends.

Tarot decks used: Rider-Waite tarot deck

- ShiningMysticTarot ☀️

#witchblr #general tarot reading #shmtarot #pick a card #pick a pile #pick a picture #spirit guides #spirit guide reading #spirituality #tarot #tarot reader

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nogodsnomorales · 1 year

Text

Know that I am going to get pretty serious here, as this post is about Punkflower. I am going to talk about the age situation, the blatant racism ABOUT this ship, and to also talk about the ship itself*. There is also some talk about the shippers/non-shippers + Punkflower antis in general.

[*nothing negative! just like.. discussing it as a whole, because everybody needs to be aware of some important things. the shippers, non-shippers/people on neutral ground, AND the haters/antis.]

There is a BIG wall of text incoming, but all of it is organized to its very best at what I could do!! I first wrote this in docs, I did my best to make it not a whole chaotic mess to read through. It's a big post, but there's a lot of spacing and some text is coloured, so it will be very easy to read.

This is a very detailed and THROUGH post, so it is slightly recommended to read on computer for the best viewing experience.

[It's not needed as you can still just read on your phone/etc, I do want you lovely people to have the best viewing experience possible.]

There will be an expand button, so I will not clog your feed and the tags.

TDLR;

Dear punkflower shippers,

your prayers have been ANSWERED. DO NOT WORRY ABOUT SHIPPING PUNKFLOWER NOW 🙏

punkflower shippers, do not live in fear no more, for I am here now.

Sincerely,

tumblr user: godunforgiving

Edited Note (06/21); FYI, I am muting this! Read the edit change log at the end of this post for more information. If you have any concerns or inquiries regarding this post, do not hesitate and feel free to DM me!

punkflower talk/analysis(?) + talking about Hobie’s age

This entire post is a discussion of various things, of my own thoughts and opinions! Some of the talk is about the posts + comments I have seen other people say about this ship [mainly questioning and worried ones.] All of the pieces of information that I knew were scattered, so I wanted to gather all of what I could find, and put it in a singular post for those still worrying.

[Also where others can actually just refer to this post and just read thru here first, instead of having to spend a lot of time going through the Punkflower tag to desperately find info!]

I would have gotten this finished and posted days ago, but you know, usual IRL things slowed me down, and I had to spend my day in the ER yesterday, lol.. I’m okay as of now! Just have to take it easy, but I really did want to finish writing my ass off with this post, since I know it’s important to me and for many others out there.

Take your time to read through this, and please absolutely feel free to add any of your input/extra knowledge/anything that I should add onto this post. DMs can be the best, or just through the comments can suffice, because I can and will edit anything into this post [that is accurate aka there is backed up evidence/sources to go along with it.] If you do want to see something added here, just tell me and I'll see if I can manage!

I genuinely hope that this post can be helpful to you, as it will be helpful for me!

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------—

Please know that; I will directly quote from many people, as all of them will be credited properly by being mentioned down below and leaving their username (that is linked back) with their respective quotes, because their own pieces of text really helped build this post! I cannot thank each person enough.

Do not be a piece of shit and go after or ‘witch hunt’ any of them. Respect their own privacy and being.

users mentioned (IOOA): @comfortingnightmare, @luvvnobo, @ghostspider-isms, @saltylemonade13, @artisan-is-bored, @bellamer, @uglynavel, @peachypea0ny (fyi, site is not allowing me to tag), @crownecromancer, @raspberryjars, @spideyzpoolsp, @hamiltonforpowerpoint

[If you are one of the mentioned people, and you want yourself to be removed or become anonymous, please let me know ASAP!]

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------—

Notes:

If you are colourblind (some of the text is coloured fyi! colours used are blue, pink, and purple), or have difficulty reading text due to it being too small, or can't read the font, etc, please let me know! I can give you a google docs link of this entire post that is best suited for your needs. No, you will not be a burden to me. Your needs are very important, and I will want to assist with the best that I can do with that!

I, godunforgiving, am on a mix of a positive + neutral ground on the topic of shipping Punkflower. I absolutely adore the comic!Punkflower, and I am fond of ATSV!Punkflower with the way I view it. Reason why I said neutral, know that I am not against the ships by any means!! But I guess why I say that is because there wasn’t a lot of canon media to consume [ATSV!Punkflower], and I want more [Also note that I have NOT seen the movie yet.] I don’t usually ‘do’ shipping when it comes to various franchises, I guess it’s mainly just not my thing? But I do know that I’ve come to like Punkflower.

I do not ‘do’ discourses, nor do I intend to actively join them! This is my first time doing something like this / this being my first ‘discourse’, yet I hope for it to be my last. I made this post with the pure intention to help the Punkflower shippers. Do know that!! I know that many people do not like the topic of discourses, but this one and the problems I’ve seen revolving around Punkflower, I just have to say something. Bc idk if anybody else is going to [with the way I did this post], considering the mess that occurred days ago, but someone has to and has to do it properly.

I am autistic, so I may process words + information differently, or even ‘incorrectly’. So if a sentence doesn’t make sense, due to perhaps my misuse of grammar, etc, please do not hesitate to ask/reach out, and I can do my best to re-explain it to you.

Negative comments [and comments directly to this post where the person is actually spreading misinfo], will be deleted. Know that if you decide that you disagree with this post, then okay! I am not bothering you, just as I hope that you will revert to ignoring me, instead of hating on me. Please have the common decency to just be kind or even don’t say anything at all, and carry on with your day.

If you have any concerns regarding this post, do not hesitate to reach out to me.

this post was originally inspired by a friend, then originally created for @feuille-morte, but it is finished for the rest of the punkflower fans, ily all. take care of yourselves!! anything for these cute silly little guys ok (and the entire punkflower nation)

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let’s get started with an introduction.

“what is Punkflower?”

Punkflower is a slash [aka queer] relationship between two black male teenagers, Hobie Brown and Miles Morales. Usually, it is perceived a romantic relationship, as some other people only see the pairing as a platonic duo and such. I do not know more forms of Punkflower, but I will use the 'main' two forms in this post. Comic![SG!]Punkflower [SG is Spider-Geddon, a comic series first released on Sept 2018], and Across the Spider-Verse aka ATSV!Punkflower.

Think of it as the same ships with the same characters, but in different fonts.

Comic!SG!Punkflower has existed for nearly 5 years now, likely first existing sometime in late 2018 to early-mid 2019. Both Miles and Hobie are very close in age in the comics, at around 16 to 17 years old. Away from Spider-Geddon(?), but still on the topic of comics, Hobie is still 16-17 in the comics.

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“people are saying Punkflower is a problematic ship!”

The main [and probably only] source of this misinformation, is from a clip that was cropped to be posted with the intention of spreading heavy misinformation (We will get into that next.) So, as far as I am aware, and know; Punkflower antis are throwing around p/do allegations, because they hate the ship and they are outraged with people enjoying it. This hate is clearly rooted with racism, and homophobia. So, no, Punkflower is not a minor x adult ship!

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“the interview talk, what happened, and what is actually real?”

If you’ve watched the interview, you can easily see that they were talking about the brainstorming process of developing Hobie's early ideas for his character. A director mentioned that in the early concept stage, Hobie was originally going to be 19-20 [This wasn’t even our Hobie, but Prowler Hobie.]

A person cut a very small clip of the mentioned interview, and uploaded it, a clip that was EXTREMELY out of context.

The uploader cut out the part explaining that Hobie’s ‘original’ age had changed as his character was being developed.

So from this, and no context given, a lot of people were instantly quick to hate; since it was on purpose to make the entire ship, AND those who enjoyed the ship, look extremely bad. What happened was not okay, yet this disgusting behaviour is at an attempt to be justified [and those people are trying to justify literal racism and homophobia.]

“19-20 thing that the directors mentioned were Hobie’s early designs ideas but those eventually changed as his character changed. Even one of the directors said its up to interpretation plus even his VA was all hinty towards Gwen and hobie so honestly its up to you what his age is" - comfortingnightmare

As soon as the clip came out, I had started to see a number of people saying that, apparently, Hobie looked like he was in his 20s to his 30s** (while also throwing subtle/discreet hits towards the Punkflower ship), but this was after the clip came out.

**Literally saw someone on Tumblr say that he looked like 28, and trying to shut down the idea of Hobie being a teenager. Like be completely serious with me right now..

Things don’t quite add up here. This was because of WHAT Hobie only looked like, and now it just has to be racially motivated, as there are no solid explanations or reasonings for their behaviour and disgust. Those people just look bad [as they should.]

So, no, Hobie is not 19-20. Another director had confirmed that Hobie’s age is UP TO INTERPRETATION.

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[TLDR; The interview got taken completely out of context from a clip that made people start throwing SERIOUS accusations left and right.. Since more people actually later found out that the clip was taken out of context [instead of doing research], the situation died down, but people are walking on eggshells now. The haters were being desperate likely because Punkflower is a black queer/mlm relationship, since there is no solid explanation for this hating.]

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“So.. what can we interpret Hobie’s age as?”

That is where I come in! I have many reasons that can help you decide what Hobie's age is to you. And those many reasons are speculated on Hobie's age being 16-17, as many users already guess that Hobie's age is equivalent to a teenager's age. I also believe this idea, as there are many things that already support this thought process.

[But if you like.. (god, I hope nobody does) go through this list and conclude that Hobie is 18+ and continue to ship that Hobie and 15 yr old Miles (or any of the minors).. GTFOH.]

1. Hobie Brown in other media (I’m talking about the comics for instance) is commonly shown for Hobie to be a teenager at either 16 or 17 years old.

“Hobie is in fact labeled as ‘badmouthed teenager’ since 2014 and is 16-17 in the comics and that just because he doesnt have a confirmed/canonical age in ATSV, hes still in the age range of a teenager (16-18)" - luvvnobo

2. Topic of the spider-bite.

ATSV!Hobie is likely to be 16-17 years old (18 at the latest), meaning that he would have been bit at the ages of 13-15. So IF Hobie was bit 3 years ago / at 14 years old, then he would be 16-17.

Realistically, this really could have happened, considering Hobie’s living conditions! [aka what led to Hobie getting bit by a radioactive spider in the comics.] If he indeed gets bit at 14 years old (like how Miles and Gwen got bit at that age for example), then either 16 or 17 yrs old.

Again, with how he lived; if he got bit at 13 = 15-16 years old in crrnt events of ATSV. [If you don’t know of Hobie’s conditions, in the comics I’m pretty sure he, like, basically lived on the streets as a homeless teenager]

“During the "Spider-Verse" storyline, the Earth-138 version of Spider-Man is revealed to be Hobart Brown, originally operating as Spider-Punk. He is a homeless teenager who was transformed by a spider that was irradiated as part of President Norman Osborn's toxic waste dumping.” - Spider-Punk: Wikipedia

The topic of the bite / needing to know if Hobie was (x) age when he got bit, isn’t very serious, as he is already grouped with 3 kids.

3. It would be unlikely (and also weird) for a four man crew to be 3/4 teenagers and 1 adult;

WHILE ALSO implying that the mentioned ‘adult’ and one of the mentioned teenagers could’ve had something going on. [Even if nothing really happened (keyword = implying), and how Pavitr treated it in that way, implies that Hobie isn’t that much older than the three.] [I would have kept this reason combined with the Spider bite topic aka reason No.2, since it’s actually referenced off of pastelnightgale’s post, just that this paragraph alone is solid enough as a separate reason.]

4. Hobie’s mannerisms.

Note, I haven’t seen the movie, but I have seen many clips. From those clips, he’s definitely a teenager at least, it made me feel like Hobie was 16 or 17 years old. I’ve asked two of my brothers; they said that he definitely was their age [both being 17.]

“my two cents on the age debate is like. hobie doesn’t have the vibes of an adult even if his age is up to “interpretation”. like i’m eighteen and bro has definitely gotta be younger than that. he makes my “stupid younger sibling” sense go haywire." - ghostspider-isms

5. If you look up “how old is hobie brown”

You will already see many people speculating that Hobie is likely to be around the same age range as Miles and Gwen [if not a bit older.]

Again, Hobie is already 16-17 years old in the comics.

“in the spiderverse, we have seen that it is common for most spiders (gwen and miles specifically) to get bitten around 14. hobie states he’s been spider-man for three years, meaning he’s most likely 16-17." - artisan-is-bored

6. “Like if Hobie is really 19+ then why is it only a problem with Punkflower?? Wouldn’t the whole love triangle thing be a problem????" - saltylemonade13

Yes. It would be a SERIOUS problem. It also would make the other ships [Chaipunk, others with minors in them] very problematic and illegal ships. But Hobie isn't 18+.

7. Ageing down process happening to various characters in Spider Verse, and Hobie non affected?

If Gwen and the other spiders are aged down in Spiderverse, then it doesn’t make sense that Hobie was not aged down like the others.

8. Hobie literally hangs out around teenagers.

If an adult is constantly hanging out with other children, then that obviously would be the first problem. I wouldn’t really need to keep talking any more about this one. Because if a 19-20 year old was spending a majority of his time around young teenagers, ages ranging 15 through 17, and not really with anybody else his age or above, then yes, that’s already weird.

“it’s also implied that miles is jealous of gwen and hobie. why would the directors make a key plot point of the story be that hobie is a grown ass man hanging out with a bunch of teenagers? and that he might have a thing with one of them???" - artisan-is-bored

9. Genetics do not matter within age.

This is one of my most common quotes by now. Hobie is indeed very tall at almost 6 ft, yes. No, it does not mean that he is above 18+ years old. Hobie can be over 6 ft tall and still be 16-17 years old.

I have seen so many teenagers at drastically different heights, but still be the same age. Many of them being over 6 ft [180 cm], and still being in my age range, and having met a 5’10” 8th grader [aka 13 yrs old] years ago. Both of my previously-mentioned brothers are 6 ft and over 6 ft, yet they are only 17.

“people can look one age and be another." - artisan-is-bored

“hobie’s description as a character. hobie is a foul mouthed TEENAGER. that has been his description for the past five years." - artisan-is-bored

10. “how do i tell them Punkflower has been a thing since 2018 or 2019 and they have interacted in the comics (they are close in age)" - luvvnobo

11. “He has to be an adult, because he goes to pubs!!” Let’s be absolutely HONEST here.

“dude is BFF’s with the Riri of his universe, she can probably whip up a fake ID in no time and even if Riri isn’t in the Spiderverse, he still gets around and knows people. he’s definitely cool with someone who makes fake ID’s." - bellamer

What bellamer said. To add onto this, a pub is different from a BAR as well.

If you look up “what is a pub vs bar” your first result will be this.

To also add, all bars in England aren’t considered pubs.

“If you’re 16 or under, you may be able to go to a pub (or premises primarily used to sell alcohol) if you’re accompanied by an adult. However, this isn’t always the case. It can also depend on the specific conditions for that premises. It’s illegal to give alcohol to children under 5." From the official GOV of the UK website

But literally, let’s be honest here, Hobie would already know at least one person who will help him get in a pub, if he cannot do so himself. If Hobie is constantly going to pubs, then that does not mean he is getting drinks 24/7 when he is there, unless stated otherwise. Pubs focus on serving food and to give drinks [upon request] to go along with the meal.

Before 1995, children under the age of 14 were NOT allowed in pubs in England and Wales. And Hobie is definitely by no means 14. He is likely 16, or 17. He can already drink, with adult supervision, at 16 in pubs. But we know that Hobie is no law-abiding Spider-man.

12. “Hobie wouldn’t be able to own his own place!”

“it’s a key part of hobie’s comic backstory that he used to be homeless. once again, the breaking the law point still stands. wouldn’t be surprised if hobie bought an apartment with a fake ID, was squatting, or was staying in some sort equivalent of the community center that he used as his main group’s operation headquarters in the comics.” - artisan-is-bored

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I do not think that another director/anybody who worked on the movie will come out and say that Hobie is actually 18+ at this point. I CAN be wrong in the future, but right now, he is not, and there are my reasons for why I strongly agree with the idea of Hobie being a teenager.

ALTHOUGH, even IF a director comes out and says that ATSV!Hobie is actually 18+, obviously all of the ATSV!ships with him and the other minors should STOP RIGHT NOW. But as of now [06/13/23 (when I first wrote this)], and from what we already know, I do not see anything wrong with ATSV!Punkflower and my views.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------—

The racism revolving Punkflower is disgusting.

I’ve seen a lot of people bashing Punkflower when the whole misinfo-hobie-being-19/20-situation occurred, but ONLY with Punkflower [from what I’ve seen.] I didn’t see any of this happening to the other ships that Hobie is in / shipped with Gwen, and Pavitr.

I have not seen any, quite literally nobody, complaining about any other ship that isn’t Punkflower, and it’s insanely overwhelming and confusing?? People don’t complain when it comes to Hobie x Gwen, but if it’s with two queer black boys? Huge problem all of a sudden.

“Love how when it was Hobie and Gwen no one batted an eye but as soon as people started shipping two black males together all of a sudden everyone’s disgusted and outraged” - uglynavel

“none of y’all had a problem w gwen and hobie, but when hobie started getting shipped with miles and pav? y’all got pissed. get your racist and homophobic head out of your ass. even if hobie IS an adult in the movie, that still doesn’t mean that shipping him with miles in the comics suddenly isn’t valid. newsflash, gwen is MUCH OLDER than hobie in his universe.” - artisan-is-bored

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------—

Other quotes, that I wanted to point out, but I didn’t sort them into a spot;

“There are a lot more weird problems in the ATSV fandom, yet people are worried about Flowerpunk and whether Hobie is of age, or not. Those problems are full on grown ass people sexualizing Miles, Gwen, and likely more. There’s already stuff about Peter B. and Miles ship, and THAT is an active problem on hand. More people need to worry about all of that instead of a guy who has an up-to-interpretation age (but is strongly, likely, a 16-17 year old if not an adult.)” - peachypea0ny

“I can’t even enjoy comic versions of punkflower without me being called a pedo or having multiple fucking comments telling me over and over that punkflower is a proship.” - uglynavel

“I’m sorry it’s just really not fucking fair what In THE ACTUAL MOVIE it can imply something between Gwen and Hobie but the SECOND people started shipping two black boys together then it became a huge fucking problem, here’s the thing if Hobie is actually older and they never say that in the movie but imply something to the audience that him and a sixteen year old girl could possibly have something between them THEN THATS GROSS I DONT CARE HOW GOOD THE MOVIE IS! But Hobie is always, in other crossovers and his comics he is around 16, he has met Miles before in canon the ship’s not new, it was just small.” - crownecromancer (Edited to make sense, by me, godunforgiving.)

“punkflower is originally a comic ship, its been around for ages before atsv, its normal for shippers to crossover into different areas where the same characters are. he doesnt have an age on his wiki and why would he be said to have a love triangle with gwen if he WAS 19/20, idk why ppl have such a problem with punkflower but not with hobie and gwen??” - raspberryjars

“this is what happens when you believe in misinformation on the internet. no, there is no age gap, because hobie does not even have a canon age. if you watch the interview, instead of 10 seconds of it, he says it was early concepts of hobie. another director has confirmed his age is up to interpretation.. so. yall rlly need to stop with this, its weird asl. this whole thing was rooted in racism and homophobia, stop spreading misinformation I BEG.” - spideyzpoolsp

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Another disclaimer/notice;

PLEASE, PLEASE STOP BELIEVING IN EVERYTHING THAT YOU SEE!! EVEN IN TIKTOK OR TUMBLR!

IF it’s a piece of information that could be misinformation revolving around Punkflower or Hobie Brown, or anything, DO find out if it is real or fake asap!

I’m using a method that I remember from my elementary school that was constantly talked about [can’t believe I’d bring it up in a post about a ship years later], however it really does pay out and work anywhere else tbh. The “Stop, Think, Act method”.

STOP = Pause, if it distresses you; then take a breath to calm down, avoid doing anything on impulse aka don't do anything without thinking carefully beforehand.

THINK = Instead of the “what is the problem, what are the options, best path forward?” in the method itself, we will reuse this but change stuff up that can apply directly to this post. So after stopping and calming down, we will think carefully and review what we already KNOW. If it’s where the piece of information is easily seen/known as misinfo, then you are good. If the piece of misinfo is affecting something that we already know, then we move onto the next step.

ACT = “Proceed with the best option. Act carefully, and revise if needed.” The best option forward from thinking, is to do research, and make sure that it is actually real, and not misinformation with lies laced within. IF it is indeed misinformation, then it is the best to alert others, with proof.

If you are thinking “But why even mention that method??” The best example to use this method is with the age discourse blowup. A LOT of people believed in the misinformation very, very fast. What should’ve happened is that the mentioned method should’ve occurred early, to help prevent most of the freak out and its damages. But many users may not have thought of that, or even know the method, so it is okay. At least it calmed down a lot as of now, just that people are now likely afraid.

[Note; I am NOT blaming anybody!! I also freaked out a bit too, but I stuck to what I already knew, until I found more information. At first I heard “Hobie is 19-20!!!!” I figured that it must’ve been misinfo through what I already knew, because adding all of what I knew and this uproar of info, it just didn’t add up from what I alrd knew. but I still researched and did my homework!! Just that more people should naturally second-guess things that they are suspicious of and also be aware of that method and to apply it online, as it is already useful in real life!]

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------—

Wrapping this post up, finally.

It’s sad to see different Punkflower fans fight each other. But it’s also outrageous and annoying to see the plat!Punkflower shippers, who see Miles and Hobie strictly in a brotherly relationship, to throw the term ‘!ncest / pseudo-!ncest’ against the romantical Punkflower shippers.. Like holy shit, that doesn’t make you any better. Can people, please, stop throwing serious accusations against other people so nonchalantly?

These accusations are SO serious and life changing, even if it's pointed at the wrong person. But people are just too ignorant to realize that unfortunately.

“You see him (Hobie) as 19/20 who’s a big brother to the other spiders? Cool! You see him as 16/17 rebel teen amazing!” - hamiltonforpowerpoint

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End post.

Reblogs, likes, and comments of your own opinions of this post are so welcome!

Again, ily all and take care of yourselves!!

and again, if anything you think that should be added onto the post, let me know! have a great day everybody

A friend asked what’s up with the discourse, asked me to make a post, after hours of research - I absolutely fucking DELIVERED. Love you guys.

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Edit #1 (06/15); had to reformat some things since it just looked broken to me! Using the editor on mobile is a PAIN.. 0/10.

Edit #2 (06/16); an edit update! I rewrote some things (to hope to make the post sound more better), added some stuff in the notes section and some throughout the post itself, updated the crediting so the quotes used are credited and linked back to hell!!!! bc crediting others is awesome! and the post is also def over 4.2k words lol

Edit #3 (06/17); An anon told me that I was “misusing” the 'proship' term, so I edited the post. Proshitters can go to hell for all I care. To clarify, I am talking about problematic shippers. Edit #4 (06/19); oh my god 600+ notes?? i hope all of you are having an EXCELLENT month okay.. i love you guys <3 /plat

Edit #5 (06/21); I am muting this! I saw some people reply to this post, but I just do not have the ability to respond to them (Selective mutism), I did write “drafts” to them, but I do not feel like polishing it and responding. Just busy with other things, honestly! I may end up responding some time later, so yeah. If you have any concerns or inquiries regarding this post, do not hesitate and feel free to DM me!

Every once a few weeks I may check up on this post as well, until I stop altogether.

2K notes · View notes

itwasntimethatdidit40 · 1 month

Text

Be still, my foolish heart.

Pairing/Au: Soft single dad!Joel Miller x Curvy f!reader, no outbreak

Words count: 8816 (I know, I’m sorry 💀)

Rating: +18, MDNI, NSFW

Summary: A meet cute at the clinic where you work leads to finding the best date you could ask for… our one and only Joel Miller.

Warnings: pov second person, no use of y/n, meet cute, a little bit of a slow burn, reader is curvy, has breasts and vagina and wears a dress, apart from that no other specific description is given, age gap (reader is 35, Joel is 46), Joel is a single dad and he is soft (what can I say, I’m a sucker for a soft Joel okay), reader doesn’t trust Joel immediately and she thinks he might be dangerous (he’s not, he’s cutest), Sarah is alive and well and she’s mentioned multiple times, mention of Tommy, Joel is a contractor, unprotected p in v (wrap it up IRL, folks!), pussy pronouns, mention of use of oral contraceptives (reader is on the pill), fingering (f receiving), oral (m and f receiving), dirty talks, elderly people being fragile and sick, slight mention of Joel’s prescriptions including antidepressant (game Joel took it so I put it in there), I know that prescribing medicine doesn't exactly work like that in America (not even in Italy for that matter) but allow me a poetic license (😂), reader has insecurities about her body, mention of bullying and previous toxic relationships that reader has been subjected to, internal reader’s voice inserts, pet names (pretty lady, good girl, honey, sunshine, baby, babe, angel), squirting (not specifically mentioned but still), Joel is feral and reader too.

I don't think I forgot anything but if I notice it I'll add it right away.

I made a mood board for the first time in my life, I know it's not great but I tried 💀 English is not my first language so please be gentle (I also have Covid at the moment… yeah, it’s 2024 and I caught it for the third time, lucky me), I hope there aren't too many mistakes, no beta so it's all my fault LOL, no proofreading. Title is an Hozier quote. Of course, because I love this man.

Oh sh*t, here’s what I was forgetting: the mirror scene is inspired by Polin (yep, it was a great scene ❤️) but I think I personalized and changed it enough to make it just Joel and reader's, at least I hope.

(Reader works in a clinic because I do this job so yes, she has this thing in common with me besides being curvy. Every time I write a curvy reader is so personal to me)

I might write something else about these two if you like, I really love this pairing and I hope I’m not the only one, comments and reblogs are very much appreciated! Thanks to anyone who will read this 💐

You are at your desk, absorbed in an email you are writing to a patient who is asking for prescriptions for medicines. The clinic is empty and quiet and this doesn’t happen often so you’re trying to keep up with emails and messages and phone calls that you have received in the last hour.

Suddenly the door opens and a man enters the clinic, at first you don't even look at him, you just say "Good morning" and continue typing.

He clears his throat and says “good morning” and stops in front of you, on the other side of the desk. He’s clearly waiting for you to shift your attention to him so you turn and look at him. For a moment you’re speechless. He’s a gorgeous man.

Tall and broad, dark hair slightly streaked with silver, strong aquiline nose, beard and mustache framing a pair of plump lips, perfectly designed jawline and neck.

Stunning.

You didn’t expect anyone like this ‘cause really, the doctor you work for has hundreds of elderly patients or families with children and you have never been interested in married men, you don’t even look at them but anyway, you never saw a single person that was attractive to you in this place before.

You smile politely as you ask “do you need anything?” and you want to sink into your seat because you don't even have makeup on and you're wearing the first things you found in the closet this morning. An old pair of jeans and a black top.

“Yes please, I need some prescriptions. I just changed doctor because my previous one is now retired. I always sent an email to his secretary but this is the first time I've asked for my prescriptions here so I thought I'd stop by in person especially since I was in the area. I’m working in the building next door”

Bingo.

That’s why you never saw him.

You quickly look at his hand on the desk for a ring and it’s not there.

His hands are gorgeous though, big strong working and experienced hands.

“Sure, can you tell me your name please?” you ask trying to keep your tone professional while being excited to know more about him.

“Joel Miller” he says and you find the way his tongue rolls up to pronounce the r at the end so delicious it’s almost embarrassing.

For a moment you're almost afraid he might hear your thoughts.

You turn back to the computer typing in his name and a moment later his medical records appear.

46 years old, born in late September, he lives in Austin. You look at his prescriptions and notice a reflux medication, another for high blood pressure, and an antidepressant.

Oh.

What happened to him?

“Well, Mister Miller, what do you need today?”

“You don’t have to call me Mister Miller, even if you’re younger than me I think?”

You look down in bewilderment, not expecting much familiarity from him since it’s the first time you’ve seen him but you answer anyway “Yes, actually. I’m 35”

“So you can call me Joel” he says with a smile that tugs at the corner of his mouth and hopeful eyes of someone who asks not to make him feel old.

“Of course I can” you hurry to answer “So… Joel, what do you need today?”

He gives you a grateful look and replies, “I don’t remember what it’s called but… my medicine for high blood pressure.”

“Oh yes, this one” you nod and proceed to prepare it, “just a moment, Mr Miller… uhm I meant Joel, I need to get the doctor to sign it,” you tell him as the printer gurgles, spitting out the prescription paper.

You stand up from your chair, feeling your legs a little unsteady, and once you’re in front of him his height impresses you even more. He’s imposing, you’re a curvy girl and yet you feel so tiny in front of him.

You notice that he looks you up and down and seems pleased, his eyes reflecting an approval that makes you very satisfied.

You move quickly to the doctor's office, enter apologizing and have him sign the prescription. When you leave you find him standing in front of your desk waiting, he looks at you again and you notice a certain sparkle in his eyes.

"Here you go" you say and hand him the prescription.

You feel his fingers lightly brush yours and a shiver of pleasure runs down your spine.

“Thank you,” he smiles at you, “you are very kind.”

“No problem, have a good day,” and you approach the desk to sit down again. You see him hesitate for a moment, as if he wanted to add something.

“Do you need anything else?” You ask curiously and a part of you really hopes that he will ask you for your phone number or if you want to go get a drink after work.

“Oh no, no thanks, see you next time”

His gaze drops to the floor as he says this, as if he's embarrassed, which you like because it feels like you're not the only one in the room who's been pleasantly shaken up by this encounter.

He puts his hand on the door handle and turns once more, smiling shyly.

You smile back feeling a sense of tenderness so premature that you wonder if you're losing your mind.

You go back to work but all you think about is him, you want to know more.

You enter his name again in the search bar and reopen his folder. Joel Miller. You wonder who he really is and what he does but apart from his pathologies and his date of birth you don't find much else about him. His address is there but you certainly won't use it for unorthodox purposes such as accidentally ending up in his neighborhood, you would pass for a stalker as well as a very unprofessional secretary.

Nothing stops you from noticing that he lives in a very quiet residential neighborhood though.

Will he be married? There are men who do not wear a wedding ring so it might not be safe to rely only on the fact of not having seen it.

You hesitate a bit before doing so because you already feel awkward enough for someone you've only seen once but in the end you type his address in the search bar to see if other people who live with him in the same house appear, usually families tend to have the same doctor for convenience.

You hold your breath as you stare at the white screen waiting and after a few seconds a result appears.

Sarah Miller.

“There I knew it, he’s married” you think, huffing and shrugging, but then you look better and realize that this Sarah is 14 years old. “So… he has a daughter”

No one else showed up in the results so you assume he is not married but he may have been and then got divorced. Unless his wife chose another doctor but that seems very strange to you.

You contemplate trying to Google his name but then decide it's best to wait until you get home, you can't use the work computer for personal stuff.

You sigh and go back to your work, completing your search just a second before the doctor comes out and asks you if you have any urgent messages.

Today everything is strangely quiet though, even if you wasted time looking for information on Joel you finish all the work, not without thinking about him at least once an hour. You feel silly, you shouldn’t have any kind of thought about someone you don’t know and with whom you have only exchanged a few words, the fact that he seemed interested and that he was about to ask something while he was about to leave could also be false projections that you have made in your head. And yet…once home, after taking a shower and putting on clean pajamas, you throw yourself on the sofa nibbling on a sandwich and open your laptop.

You open Google and type his name and the first result that comes up is “Miller - construction company”

It could be him, now that you think about it he mentioned he was working on the building next door which is in fact under construction.

You scroll down to the bottom of the page where the owners are listed and you see two names, Joel and Tommy Miller. You assume that Tommy is his brother. You go back to the Google page for a moment and check if there are any namesakes but no one else in the city has the same name. And just like that, you know what he does.

You don’t think you can do anything with this information, you live in a new apartment and everything is in perfect working order so you just have to wait. Before leaving he said “see you next time”, so now you find yourself wondering when the next time will be. Probably in a month, when he will need a new prescription.

Such a long time. But maybe this will help you, you tell yourself. It's just a passing thing, you tell yourself. You can't be so foolish as to project your fantasies onto him. You decide that this is okay, you'll just get over it.

_____________________

After a week you almost got Joel out of your mind. You worked quietly, met the usual old people who came to the clinic to be examined, no sign of him. You'd be lying if you didn't think about it anymore but you stopped yourself from doing something foolish like contacting him for a fake construction job to try to meet him.

You are preparing some prescriptions when the doctor comes out of the office and asks if you could please take some medicine to the home of a very elderly patient. It is something you usually do not do but the caregiver cannot leave her alone and her son is away for work all week so she had no choice but asking you to do that. It will take up extra time because you will have to go to the pharmacy and then to her house, the doctor offers to pay you overtime but you know the lady and say that it is not a problem, you can do it without compensation.

Of course you can do that for Rose.

When she was better and could move around quite independently you often talked when she came to the clinic, she immediately took a liking to you and treated you like a niece, she would bring you gifts, vegetables from her garden, other times sweets cooked by her.

She is a dear lady, you are happy to be able to do her a favor.

At 5:00 you leave the office and head to the pharmacy, pick up her prescriptions, and get back in the car to drive to her neighborhood.

Rose lives in a nice street with many rather large houses, well-kept gardens and white picket fences.

You knock on the door and Georgia, the caregiver hired by Rose's family to assist her, opens it.

You already know her, she has accompanied Rose to the clinic many times but lately her health has worsened a lot and she can no longer leave the house.

“Hi, Georgia! I I brought Rose’s medicines”

“Hey! How long has it been since we saw each other? Come in!” She says with a big smile.

Georgia is a very sweet person and a great professional, she has taken great care of Rose all these years. She is a qualified nurse and the granddaughter of a long time friend of Rose. Georgia had moved to Texas from Arkansas to attend college and since then she had always lived at her grandmother's house, who lived a few miles from Rose's house.

She took the job because she loved her and when her grandmother passed away Rose was very close to her.

Georgia offers you a coffee and some chocolate cookies she has prepared, which you gladly accept.

You chat a little while Rose is resting and then when it's time to wake her up to take her evening medicine you accompany Georgia to her room to say goodbye to Rose.

She is lying motionless in a bed, now forced to ask Georgia for help with everything, she is almost 85 years old now and you are so sorry to see her like this. Until a few years ago she was an energetic, witty woman, with lots of hobbies, she loved reading, gardening, cooking and going to the movies. Now she was a ghost of herself. And the worst thing was probably that her mind was still working, so she realized what was happening to her and this made her even sadder and more helpless. Her body did not respond, while her mind understood everything.

She recognizes you right away and greets you so sweetly with her now faint voice. It breaks your heart to see her like this.

She asks you for a hug and you put your arms around her little shoulders, holding her gently. She's always been good to you, she doesn't deserve this.

You leave the room, wiping away a tear, without letting Rose see you, and say goodbye to Georgia, promising to come back and visit them soon.

You stand in the driveway feeling helpless for a moment, you would like to do so much more. Some patients have become like an extended family to you, you have known them for years and seeing some of them fold in on themselves, increasingly frail and elderly is so bad.

You look up and see a black pickup truck driving down the road. There’s a man in it and he looks familiar. He pulls into the driveway two houses down and gets out. And oh, shit.

It’s Joel.

Joel Miller.

He lives in the same neighborhood as Rose and you didn’t even registered that in your mind before.

You don't know what to do, whether to get in the car and drive away pretending nothing happened or take the opportunity and go say hello to him.

It seems silly to say hello to someone you've only seen once, no matter how attractive they are. You walk to your car, rummaging through your bag for your keys.

You're about to curse because never once do you find something in your bag, it doesn't even matter what it is. Big bag? You find nothing. Small bag? You find nothing either.

Your eyes move for a moment to the asphalt and you see two boots approaching, you look up again and you see two legs wrapped in dark jeans streaked with paint and of course to those legs is attached the rest of Joel Miller's wonderful body.

Your eyes widen and you watch him stop in front of you, beautiful as a God. Even more beautiful than the first time you saw him.

“Hi! I saw you across the street and I was pretty sure it was you. I almost made a fool of myself, but hey, I was right!”

You lose your words, it's as if they've slipped out of your brain and melted at your feet.

At least you solved a dilemma, he greeted you first.

“Hi” you say shyly.

This doesn't make you any less nervous, you were trying to sneak out of this neighborhood unnoticed and you could say that he ruined everything and you don't know him well enough to know whether to be grateful or keep running away pretending to be very busy.

He has a daughter, a respectable job, a brother, lives in a nice neighborhood, and seems to lead a regular life. Is that enough to trust these days? Probably not.

This dude can be anyone, a serial killer, a criminal, a drug dealer, a thief, whatever.

How do you know he doesn't sleep with a gun on his nightstand or keep dead bodies in his basement?

Trust no one, is something you learned from a very early age and you always stood by it, safety first.

Have you been wanting to see him again for a whole week? Yes.

Did you just realize that you know nothing and that you might be risking something? This too.

“Can I ask why you’re here?” He asks, running his hand through his curls in a way that drives you instantly wild.

God, why is he so gorgeous, this doesn’t help at all.

You can always run to Rose and call the police if he suggests something strange and you’re in the middle of the street in broad daylight so you decide to take the risk and say the truth

“I came to deliver medicines to a lady who lives here” you reply, acting like he doesn’t have any kind of effect on you.

“Oh, so this is something you do? I didn’t know that”

“No, not regularly. I actually did it because it’s Rose, you know. She’s an adorable old lady”

He nods as if he knows exactly what you're talking about and actually says, "Sure, Rose. I know her. She used to babysit my daughter many years ago."

Okay, those are some great credentials. So maybe you can trust Joel Miller? Isn't he a lunatic homicidal? Maybe not.

Obviously you pretend you don’t know anything about Sarah and ask, “Oh really? You have a daughter?” raising your voice in surprise for a better result.

“Yeah I do. She's 14 years old and she's already giving me a hard time, she’s so smart and responsible that she’s basically parenting me” he shrugs while a little smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. You can see in his eyes how proud he is of her.

You giggle “well, she sounds so cool, I do love a tough girl.”

“Oh, she’s definitely your girl then”

You smile and think that after all, yes, Joel probably doesn't have any horrible skeletons in his closet.

And again he falls silent and looks uncertain and embarrassed, he lowers his eyes and then asks you, “You know, I’m going to be working in the building next to where you work for a little while longer, so I was wondering if you’d like to have a coffee with me sometime?”

It’s like every word is bouncing around in your head as you think about what to say. Would you like to get to know him better? The answer in the end is, “Yes, I would like to, thank you” you feel your face heat up as you say it.

Joel shifts his weight from one leg to the other as he looks at you, he seems nervous, excited but above all happy.

“I’m glad you accepted. So…what do you think about tomorrow?”

“Okay, I have lunch break from 12 to 2, is 1 okay for you?”

You see his face light up “sure that’s fine. See you tomorrow then”

For a moment he raises his arm as if he wants to come closer and touch you, but then he immediately lets it slide down his side.

Gentleman, you note in your head.

It is not yet the time for such confidence, but secretly you hope that it will come soon.

You say goodbye to him and get back in the car and you see him waving at you in the rearview mirror.

“God, Joel Miller, I already know you’re going to be a threat for me. In the best sense of the word.”

_________________________

In the weeks that follow, you and Joel share a lot of coffees. Every day he waits for you outside the clinic at 1:00 sharp, you go to the corner café and chat for an hour before returning to work. He tells you a lot of things about himself and his life which you adore listening about.

He also confides in you that he was in therapy and had to use antidepressants for a period of time, when Sarah's mother abandoned them. You completely understand.

And the more you talk to him the more you get convinced that he’s a great person, you don’t have any doubt about that.

He never fails to compliment you, on your clothes, on your hair, on your eyes, on your nail polish.

He laughingly admits that the compliment about the nail polish was Sarah’s suggestion. “Dad, she told me, girls like it when you notice details.”

You laugh out loud and nod. “She’s right. And you’re right, too, you have a very smart daughter.”

He shrugs “I know,” and then adds. “It’s been so long since I’ve dated anyone, I don’t even remember how to do it anymore.” You lean slightly across the table and whisper. “Well, I think you’re doing great.” And it’s true. You feel spoiled like a queen.

He gives you a mischievous smile “oh yeah?”

“Yes, definitely” And you want to kiss him right there, in that crowded café.

Yet a voice inside you still can’t understand how someone like him, who could have all the women he wants, is inviting you, a curvy girl.

You shouldn’t, but you still have those latent insecurities from when you were 15 and boys in your class made fun of you. Somewhere inside you there is still that fragile and wounded teenager who thinks it’s impossible that someone could truly love you. Or even just desire you.

And you hate it, because Joel has done nothing but show you how much he enjoys spending time with you. And his compliments have always sounded sincere, his eyes are, they send you a reassuring image, full of admiration. He seems truly interested in you.

You're still in this internal monologue where you curse yourself for being like this when he asks you, "Would you like to go out to dinner tonight?"

Oh. He did it. He took the next step.

With your heart pounding in your chest and your mouth unable to help but curl into a smile you answer “yes!” a little too loudly.

You put a hand over your mouth as he looks at you amused “well, I’m glad you’re so excited about the idea. Should I pick you up at 8?”

“Yes, that sounds perfect” you reply, quietly this time but with a little firecracker in your chest that keeps banging where your heart is.

You finish your coffee and go out and he asks for your address which he writes down on his phone. You try to say that there is no need for him to bother but he insists on picking you up.

“Do you like Italian food?”

“I love it”

“Good, see you tonight” and this time his hand wraps around your arm and squeezes lightly as he leans down to give you a kiss on the cheek.

You return to the clinic feeling like you're walking on clouds.

You come home after working as hard as you can while still feeling anxious and completely unsure of what to wear. You know you didn't do anything wrong and that's a relief because you certainly can't mess up your patients' medications.

You jump in the shower, mentally going over everything in your closet. You decide to exclude any black dress because no, simply no. It's a special day and you want to wear a color. Maybe the green dress? No, green doesn't suit you, you don't even know why you bought it. Maybe the red one? But that one is very low-cut and you've rarely felt good enough to wear it. Maybe the blue one? The blue one is low-cut, but not too low-cut, it hugs you in the right way, it doesn't highlight what you don't want. Yes, maybe it's the right choice.

You hum in the shower as you wash your hair, satisfied with your decision.

You come out feeling invincible. Joel Miller has asked you to dinner. It’s been years since anyone has asked you out. You didn’t like the ones who did, and God only knows how much you miss good sex. Someone who touches you just right. Someone who makes you sigh and whimper and feel alive in his arms.

Someone who kisses you and leaves you breathless and doesn't hesitate to make you feel simply amazing as he goes down between your thighs.

Joel seems to have all the makings and miraculously seems eager to give you exactly that.

You slip into the dress and look at yourself in the mirror. You like the image it reflects. To hell with those stupid kids who always gave you shit and made you feel horrible.

You're going out to dinner with Joel Miller tonight.

Joel fucking Miller who in the high school categorization is the equivalent of the football quarterback.

The High School Prom King.

God, that makes you feel so good.

He rings the doorbell at 8:00 sharp, just as you’ve finished putting on your favorite lipstick. You take a deep breath as you go to open the door, placing your hand on the handle, and mentally preparing yourself for what you’ll find on the other side.

Finally you open it and he’s perfect. He looks like a painting framed by your door.

You stifle a scream with all your strength and say “hello” to him in a high pitched voice.

Goddamn you.

He doesn't even seem to notice. “So, miss, are you ready?”

“Sure, thank you.”

You grab your bag from the hall table and walk out with him. He takes your hand as he walks you to his pick up truck, opens the door and helps you get in.

Once in the driver's seat he turns to you and says "you look incredible tonight"

And you're about to say that after all you could skip dinner, who cares, instead you could go to your room and fuck. But you decide to behave as well as him, this man has a daughter to take care of and it seems like he's not looking for a one night stand judging by how many coffees he's offered you and how much he's put in to get to know you, so much so that by the second time he could order for you with his eyes closed, so you just say “you too” with the biggest smile widening on your face.

And oh, it's so true. He left aside the flannel shirts and the worn jeans and with them he was already the most attractive man who had ever caught your eye.

He’s wearing dark blue jeans and a beige shirt that hugs his strong biceps. You can glimpse his soft tummy as he drives, the last button before his belt tightening in a delicious way, his meaty thighs wrapped in those jeans are mouth watering.

The work he does makes him muscular in all the right places.

The car stops in front of the restaurant and he opens the door for you again. He lets you enter the restaurant first, he addresses the waitress politely and they place you at the best table in the restaurant. You are impressed, he did all this for you.

The evening passes pleasantly, you talk a lot and chat about everything, by now there is a familiarity between you that you have built over the weeks, you feel safe and comfortable with him. Finally. After so many failed and wrong relationships you feel like you have found someone right. Joel is not ashamed of you, he doesn't try to change you, he doesn't comment on your weight, he is truly a breath of fresh air.

And you see the way he looks at you, enraptured. His eyes sparkle as he talks to you and listens to you. He listens to what you have to say and never makes inappropriate comments.

You both have a sense of humor and you like that, you manage not to take yourself too seriously and laugh together. Which is hot. Extremely hot. Every time you see that dimple on his cheek pop up, your knees buckle and your heart melts. He’s so adorable.

You also like the fact that he talks to you about Sarah, it makes you feel involved in his life, it seems like he doesn't try to keep you separate from it.

“Sarah is at a sleepover at one of her friends. So…would you like to stay over tonight?” he says it looking you straight in the eye and you already know what it means.

It’s the night.

The big night.

After all, you felt it and put on your favorite lingerie.

“Sure I want to,” you reply, taking his hand across the table and squeezing it. His hands big and strong…you can’t wait to feel them all over your body.

He insists on paying the bill despite your protests, you walk out of the restaurant and toward the truck when Joel grabs your waist and presses you against the door. He’s an inch from your lips, you can feel his warm breath on your skin.

“Can I kiss you?”

“What if I say no?” you tease him with a mischievous smile.

His body is completely on top of yours and the truth is that you can already feel your panties getting wet.

“I would quit, but it wouldn’t be easy so I hope you’ll reconsider”

You giggle “okay” and you feel his hands tighten on your hips.

He presses his lips against yours and it's a sloppy, needy kiss, urgent, all spit and tongue.

It leaves you breathless and you wonder what he will do in bed if this is the effect he has on you with just one kiss.

In fact you are touching each other really for the first time, in these weeks you have imagined many times his lips, their taste, their softness, their warmth. Now you know that he exceeds all your expectations.

He's calmer now, his lips fit perfectly between yours, he gently nibbles your lower lip and continues to lick inside your mouth.

He’s divine.

Utterly divine.

His hands run up and down your hips and he's about to lift your dress and grab your thigh when you stop him. “Joel…”

He looks at you with bated breath and eyes begging for mercy. “Yes, sweetie?”

“Not here…please, take me home” you whisper and he sighs “okay”

You don't even know how you managed to stop but you want your first time to be just for the two of you, you don't want to risk prying eyes or voices shouting obscene comments getting in the way.

You're already nervous enough that he'll see you naked for the first time.

He makes you get back in the pick up and gets into the driver's seat, while he fastens his seat belt you cast an eye at his crotch and you realize he’s semi-hard.

While he's driving, you put your hand on his thigh, because he has to know how much you want him.

You squeeze gently and hear him grunt “Babe…don’t do it, I won’t make it home.” and you giggle.

His low, raspy voice drives you crazy, and for a moment while you're stopped at the traffic light you consider sliding down your seat and straddling him but no, just no, wrecking his car on your first date wouldn't be the best way to end it.

You take a deep breath, leaving your hand quietly on his leg, but you want… oh you want so much to move it up and reach his bulge and stroke it over his pants.

When he pulls up in his driveway in the cab of his pickup truck there's an electricity between you that could power a small village, you feel it fluctuating in the air.

He quickly unbuckles his belt and leans over you to unbuckle yours, not without kissing you. “Let's go, pretty lady, I feel like I can’t wait a minute longer”

You get out and run to the door, he nervously searches for his keys in his pockets and opens it. You don't even have time to look around, it's the first time you enter his house but you only see it fleetingly because he takes your hand and immediately drag you to the bedroom.

There’s a chest of drawers in one corner and a wardrobe, both made of dark wood, probably made by him.

In the center of the room there is a large bed with a headboard of the same wood, the walls are a beautiful cerulean blue, there are three paintings hanging above the bed.

The bed has beige sheets and a light beige duvet with white stripes.

It’s a very manly cozy room, he makes you sit on the bed and you feel how comfortable it is, it's like him, warm and soft.

He starts undressing in front of you, he takes off his shirt and unbuttons his jeans without taking his eyes off you, he seems hypnotized by you.

You suddenly feel like there's an emptiness in the pit of your stomach, you wonder if you're ready to make yourself so vulnerable in front of him.

Oh fuck, where did this come from now? Why? You were so happy just a second ago.

It was easy in public places, you were able to use irony and your defense tactics.

Now there’s just the two of you and you wanted that, you insisted for that and yet you feel exposed now.

You know it's right, your insecurities right now aren't from Joel. Joel makes you feel safe.

It's you, it's just you.

Joel notices your hesitation, comes closer and caresses your face then he gently takes your chin and raises your gaze towards his

“Are you okay?”

“Yes” you reply in a small voice.

“If you don’t want to do it, that’s okay, darling.”

Your voice cracks a little as you reply “no, oh no, Joel I want it”

“So what’s wrong? Talk to me, you can trust me, you know?” He slips his hand into your hair and caresses you gently, looking you intensely in the eyes.

It's so stupid, all night you've felt hungry and lustful for him and now… you're afraid that seeing you naked he might think he made a mistake.

“I…” you try to say. You know that he at least deserves sincerity from you “I… I’m ashamed”

Joel's eyes widen and a completely confused expression appears on his face “about what?”

He really doesn't seem to understand and it makes you feel a little frustrated

“About my body, about the fact that I'm not thin, I have stretch marks and many other defects and you will see them” you say it all in one breath feeling silly.

“Oh babe…no. Listen to me carefully: you’re absolutely gorgeous. You don't have to be afraid to undress in front of me, I'm sure that whatever is under your clothes is wonderful and deserves to be worshipped. I really like you. I'm not saying this just because I want to have sex. You’re beautiful, honey”

You feel tears stinging your eyes and you fight them back with all your strength “you could have anyone you want”

“I want you. I want you if you let me” his voice is firm, his fingers caress your jaw until they reach your lips and brush them gently.

“Do you trust me?”

Sure, why shouldn’t I. He’s never given me a reason not to. you say to yourself.

“Yes” you whisper

“I want nothing more than to make you feel good and I won’t do anything you don’t want.”

“I know”

“And you can always talk to me about anything, okay? I don’t want to make you regret this”

He is sincere. He is absolutely sincere and you can clearly see it in his big beautiful brown eyes.

“Okay” you smile

“And by the way…your curves make me absolutely feral” he gives you a mischievous smile.

“Yeah?” you say with a hint of surprise

“Sure. Would you let me prove it to you?” his hand is on your shoulder now and lingers on the strap of your dress.

“Yes, please Joel… yes”

Damn insecurities, they were about to make you lose the best man you've ever met.

And now you feel impatient again and want his hands everywhere.

Now you notice his broad chest, the freckles scattered across his skin, the happy trail of hair that ends up hidden by his jeans.

Now you can enjoy the view of his muscular shoulders and strong neck and you can't wait to taste his skin under your tongue.

His hands move slowly over you, he slides the straps of your dress and reveals your bra.

“Get up,” he says, “I want to show you something.”

You look at him in disbelief. “What?”

“Come with me” he takes your hand and makes you get out of bed.

He takes you to a full-length mirror in a corner of his room “Sarah made me buy this because she says I have to look at myself before I leave the house. She says I make terrible combinations when I get dressed. Sometimes I'm in a hurry and wear my shirt inside out or something like that." he says smiling and shaking his head.

You giggle and the confidential tone with which he speaks to you makes you feel special.

“Well I don't know if it's the mirror's merit but you did a good job tonight” you joke.

You are in front of the mirror and he is behind you “look at yourself”

You become serious again and observe yourself.

“Look how beautiful you are” he says in his deep and slightly hoarse voice“can I?” he asks placing his hands on the clasp of your bra. You nod.

He takes off your bra and drops it on the floor. You look at that woman in the mirror, you look at her skin and the roundness of her breasts and her hard nipples and then you look into his eyes and you see nothing but admiration “God, your breasts are amazing” you hear him say “can I touch them?” and you nod again “yes, please Joel”

He traces the outline with his fingers and then cups his hands and fills them with your tits.

You don't miss the moan of pleasure that he tries to stifle in his throat “they are so soft” he squeezes them delicately “mmm baby, they feel amazing in my hands”

He takes your nipples between his fingers and tugs on them slightly “and these? Look how sexy they are, I bet they would be delicious in my mouth”

You feel your skin heat up and your head spin, you squeeze your eyes shut at the sensation of his hands playing with yours hard buds and his words go straight to your cunt. He’s so good at this.

“Open your eyes, honey” he whispers in your ear “don't stop looking at yourself”

His hands leave your breasts and for a moment you want to take them and put them back there but you let him. He slides your dress down your hips, until you're left in your underwear in front of the mirror.

“You’re stunning” he punctuates every syllable on your skin making you tremble “absolutely gorgeous”

His hand slides over your stomach and your belly that always makes you feel insecure “Is that what worries you?” he asks as if he can read inside you “that you don't have a flat stomach? Honey, your tummy is amazing.”

He squeezes it and it seems incredible to you how delicate his big hands can be “It's full and delicious and sweet and I can't wait to bite into it”

You squirm, leaning over his broad chest “Oh my god” you moan

He caresses your hips with both hands, supporting you “and these… they feel welcoming and warm and mmm baby, so sensual. Can you see it? They fit my hands so perfectly”

You look at yourself and you've never felt this way.

Guided by his words you finally see yourself beautiful and desirable.

He slips his fingers under the edge of your panties “Can I?”

“Yes” you say in a breath

He slowly slides them off, revealing your pussy “Jesus.” He mutter “look at her. Look how perfect she is”

He just touches your mound and you feel hypnotized, his voice, his hands, the warmth of his body, it’s all too much.

“Oh baby… I love that you left that little strip of hair”

You can't hold back anymore and you whine “touch me Joel, I want more”

His voice vibrates on your soft skin again “Tell me what you want, in detail” He bites the spot where your neck meets your shoulder “I want to hear”

“Oh god… I want… I want your fingers inside me, stretching me just right” you babble “I want to feel full”

His fingers slide between your folds “God baby you’re soaking wet. It’s all for me?”

You squirm under his touch nodding repeatedly, you feel desperately needy and hungry.

“Yes. Please Joel”

“Please what, baby?” He ask maliciously

“Make me yours, make me all yours”

“Can you see how beautiful you are now?”

“Yes” you nod “yeah. Don’t make me wait any longer. I need you, Joel”

You can swear that right now you feel really beautiful and also the luckiest woman in the world.

“Oh, you're getting impatient now… I like that” he says in a hushed tone.

He's still behind you and holding you close, he's still wearing his jeans but you can feel his hard cock pressing against your ass.

You look small in his arms, he surrounds you completely.

He brings you back to the bed and makes you lie down, you are completely naked and yet you no longer feel ashamed and inadequate.

He takes off his jeans, remaining in a pair of black boxers.

At the sight of his erection poking out against the fabric you lick your lips in anticipation.

He lies on top of you, his eyes on yours, looking at you intently “You’re perfect, honey” and then his mouth crash into your neck, kissing and licking everything he can, he takes your skin between his lips sucking and biting like he was starving for you.

“Your skin is like velvet and you smell so good, fuck”

And you whimper and cry and clasp your hands on his shoulder digging your nails in them and you feel like you don’t need anything else in this life.

He lowers himself on your body, grazing at your skin with his lips, lingering for a while on your nipples and mumbling at how good they are.

“I love touching you with my mouth, tasting your curves against my lips” until he reaches your tummy giving sloppy kisses at it and then he bites it. His teeth are attentive and gentle but at the same time eager, like he wants to taste your whole being.

And then he come to your mound and traces your thin strip of hair with his tongue and you buck your hips and move one of your hands through his curls and you plead “more, Joel, please”

He grunts at you when you tug his hair and you look at him with the most miserable begging eyes you can pull out “You want it so bad, babe? Want me to eat you out?”

You mewl a yes and he smirk “want to come on my tongue?”

You nod again “yes”

He places himself between your thighs “God, she seems made for this. So sweet scented and pretty. I bet she tastes so good”

And in an instant he dives into your pussy and his nose bumps your clit as his tongue begins to lick you up and down, delving your folds and making your hips jerk.

Your legs are wrapped around his back and his hand is on your tummy holding you in place “god, you look so beautiful like that, my precious angel, all spread and ravenous for me” every word vibrates on your clit and make you moan loudly. It’s like a demon took possession of your body, an insatiable and aching demon that wants nothing but pleasure.

He nudges at your entrance with his tongue and you cry again for more “your fingers, Joel, please, give them to me”

He pushes two fingers inside your soaking wet hole, they enter just easily and he curls them up inside you reaching for your sweetest spot.

“fuck, yes” you howl “god they feel so good, they feel so fucking good, Joel”

“I know baby, I know, you’re taking them so perfectly”

He continues to swirl his tongue over your clit as he pump his fingers in and out of you, increasing the pace when you can’t hold your moans anymore and you’re so loud you almost fear his neighbors can hear you “God, Joel, I’m coming - I’m - coming ah- god you’re incr- ah” you’re totally babbling trying to get a complete sentence out of your mouth and you can’t, you just can’t because he’s too much and you never felt that good before.

“Soak my fingers, babe, soak my face, give it all to me”

Your pussy clench around his fingers and you feel breathless as your orgasm washes all over you, his dirty talk made you over the edge.

You whine his name as you come, again and again and he doesn’t stop lapping at you until you’re calm.

He lies down next to you, wrapping his arms around you, you bury your head in the crook of his neck and sigh, “Oh, Joel.”

His hand sits on your ass squeezing gently “Such a good girl for me. I can’t believe you almost called yourself out from this”

You playfully pinch one his nipples “don’t make a fool of me”

“I would never” he says, kissing your hair “I’m just saying that you’re too good to not be taken care of. Your body deserves to feel passion and lust and all of that”

“On that note… there’s something else I’d like to do” you look at him maliciously

“What, baby?”

“I would love to… uhm… fuck, I would love to give you head”

He tilt his head “excuse me miss? Watch your mouth!” You giggle hiding your face in his chest and he laugh, and then he goes serious and ask “You sure? You don’t have to do that if you don’t want to”

“Yeah, I know” and you raise your face to kiss the lovely bald patch in his beard and you move to his ear and you whisper “I really want that though”

“As you please, sunshine”

You cup his bulge in his boxer and stroke it gently over the fabric “someone else here needs to be taken care of too”

He grunts “yeah, baby, keep going like that”

“Actually… I can make it even better” and you move from his side getting on your knees on the bed and then sitting on your heels as you keep stroking him.

You lower his boxer and his cock spring free, he’s already hard as rock. You lick your lips “delicious” and he looks at you mischievously “I guess you can be naughtier than I thought, baby”

You smirk back at him, lowering yourself on his groin and kissing the tip of his cock, just the tip, gently as a feather.

You giggle and pull back as he bucks up his hips to your mouth “so impatient, aren’t you?”

“It’s just… I didn’t have anyone giving me head in a very long time”

You open your eyes wide “I don't believe it”

“I swear” he says in a lower hoarse tone “I didn’t… I had some one night stand here and there but nothing serious, you know, I needed to be focused on Sarah and my work. so everything was quick and meaningless”

You can’t imagine Joel having meaningless sex with anybody, he’s so respectful and attentive with you.

You raise an eyebrow. “Joel Miller, do you mean to make me believe that all the women in the neighborhood aren’t in love with you?”

“Oh Rose loves me for sure” and you laugh “but about the others… I don’t know, some of them tried a couple of times but I always rejected them. I told you, I didn’t have time for complications”

“Then why you’ve changed your mind now?”

“Sarah threatened to sign me up for Tinder if I didn't find someone. And then I met you”

You giggle “so you went out with me to be safe from Tinder”

“At first, maybe. But now you know that it's not just that, right?”

“Yeah, I know.”

What he just did speaks volumes about how much he likes you.

And you’re even more convinced now.

You lower your head and lick the tip again swirling your tongue around it and he moans.

You slide your tongue flat along his length and wrap your hand around the base. It's big, bigger than you expected but you don't feel intimidated.

“Oh baby, you’re so good to me, what have I done to deserve such a perfect girl?”

He gasps when you took all you can of his cock in your mouth, feeling his length sliding over your tongue and his musky taste invading your palate, you whine beginning to suck like you’re desperate, stroking the rest of it with your fingers.

It doesn’t take too much before you start feeling him throbbing between your lips, he’s right on the edge as you suck and lick and kiss him like the most delicious lollipop you’ve ever had.

He pants loudly bucking his hips “Baby I’m almost - AH- almost there”

You make his cock pop out of your mouth “finish inside me, then”

“You sure?”

“Yes, I’m on the pill” you nod straddling his crotch and positioning his cock at your entrance.

You slowly lower yourself feeling the tip force its way into your hole and you moan with every inch that pushes its way inside you.

You stay still for a moment feeling his cock fill you up completely.

He says nothing but he looks you in the eyes and the brown of his pupils has become incredibly dark.

Eventually you start moving on top of him, placing your hands on his chest, your pussy making lewd sounds and your tits bouncing, he takes them in his hands squeezing them as he sinks into you, deeper and deeper and harder and harder.

You’re basically riding him and you've never felt so wild and free, your insecurities just disappeared clouded by your pleasure.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so gorgeous like this, look at the way your hips move, it’s so fucking amazing”

You throw yourself onto his chest as you feel his seed paint your walls, you take his mouth with yours stifling his moans that echo inside you.

He slides a hand between you, searching for your clit, and his calloused fingers begin to move over it. You end the kiss to look into his eyes, “don’t stop” he whispers “come for me baby.”

Your head feels light and your vision blurs as you feel your orgasm building up from the depths of your tummy, your pussy clenching and squeezing his cock.

You gush all over him like never before, making a mess of his crotch and the sheets underneath, crying his name so hard.

You rest your head next to his, inhaling the smell of tobacco, wood and the sweat of his neck, and you laugh, you laugh joyfully, “God,” and he does the same, wrapping his arms around you and caressing your back “Nothing like this has ever happened to me before, I'm sorry”

He holds you tighter “you don't have to be sorry, darling, it was wonderful”

“I made such a mess” you murmur

“So what? Nothing that laundry can’t fix. And I’m good at laundry, you know?”

He kisses your forehead and stroke your cheek “I haven't felt this good in ages”

“Yeah, me too” you kiss him wrapping one your leg around his.

You both stay quiet for a while, enjoying each other’s warmth, kissing every now and then suddenly it hits you and you say, “Do you know who we owe all this to?”

“No, I don’t honey, to whom?” he asks confused.

“Rose” you say “Think about it, if I hadn't brought her medicines that day we wouldn't be here now."

“That’s true. I think we should go visit her and bring her a nice present.”

“Yes. She will love the story of how we met.”

You kiss him again and think about what gift could match this. Probably none, because it's the best thing that's ever happened to you.

#pedro pascal #joel miller #fanfic #joel the last of us #joel tlou #the last of us #joel miller fanfiction #one shot #joel miller x reader #joel miller x oc #joel miller au #joel miller one shot #joel miller fluff #the last of us hbo #joel miller comfort #joel miller x curvy reader #joel miller x f!reader

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lixies-favorite-cookie · 2 months

Text

an ocean in a world full of puddles ◦ Chapter 1

-After being brushed off by Chan once again, you are stuck waiting in the lounge room for him to arrive. What are you going to do when it isn't Chan that arrives, but instead Felix? And it feels like you've known him for years."

words ◦ 5k

genre ◦ series, angst, fluff, the beginning of a wild ride

warnings ◦ chan is painted in sort of a negative light because he is always busy, felix is sort of shy around you at first, but lowkey flirty near the end as he starts to get more comfertable, theres a lot of fucks in this, i keep calling yall im dumb im sorry, fem!reader, felix calls her a lady once,

a/n ◦ The strikeouts are intentional to show how chaotic the reader's mind is and how she feels like her emotions are so invalid she has to just erase them away. I'm sorry if this isn't what you expected. I found myself struggling to describe certain aspects of this and was quite disappointed by the outcome (but please do not let this deter you. If anything, read it and let me know what you think/what I can change. Plus, I know the other parts are going to be way better than this).

also i listened to heather while writing this up until the phone number bit... then i listened to slow down by chase atlantic...do with that information as you will

A VERY VERY SPECAIL THANK YOU TO THESE BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE that helped me through the different struggles and stages in this fic I thank most of my unnecessary errors being fixed because of them @yongbun, @jeonginsleftcheek, @luvtak

masterlist ◦ a loved lived in between the stars and the sea

The human condition: a soul filled with passion, but not a mouth to spill it into.

It was ironic really.

Your soul was filled with passion, but you had a mouth to spill it into.

That mouth just didn't want your passion-

Your fervor-

Your ardor-

Romance practically coursed through your veins, your blood cells shaped like the hearts you saw the world through.

Chan was filled with passion.

Chan was filled with ardor.

Chan was filled with romance.

But Chan didn't want poetry-

Chan spilled too much soul into songs.

Songs that made him too busy for you.

The two of you saw the same goal, but spoke different languages-

Your love was often-

Lost in translation.

You shout, frustration poking in the pit of your stomach painting the car red you dig the pencil into the words scratching them out so hard you cut holes in the page that sounded so stupid

all of this was so stupid

your feelings-

stupid

your issues-

stupid

the thought that Chan was anything other than perfect-

stupid

Why couldn't you just be content with everything you have? So many girls would pay to be in your place, tripping over each other just to be in his presence, and yet, what, you're unhappy because you spoke different languages?

What the hell does that even mean?

You were trapped inside an inescapable box, the sharp edges of your unrealistic expectations like shackles that cut into your skin, bleeding with a passion only ever found in fiction.

Why were you always stuck?

stuck in the stars, stuck in the sea-

stuck in this stupid line of stupid traffic, waiting for a stupid meal that Chan probably will be too busy to eat with you, writing some stupid piece of poetry that was about as poetic as the rotting innards of unidentified roadkill.

stupid

“Finally,” you mumble as the car in front of you inches up, allowing you access to the next window. You politely bow, grab the trays from the worker’s hand, and drive off.

Your life quickly turned from the hope of a story to the reality of a routine. The road, the walls, the button your finger grazes as the doors to the elevator slam shut, the number of steps it takes to get to his room, the feel of cold metal underneath your palm as you open the door, the same hunch of his shoulders, the same glow of his laptop, the same empty look in his eyes.

the same

Most of your relationship is spent looking at him like this.

"Hey channie," you say, setting the food down on the empty spot beside his keyboard.

"Hi, love." His voice is nothing more than the ghost of a mumble, blending with the click and shift of his mouse, moving different blurs and blobs of color on the screen. Chan tended to get tunnel vision when he was working, even if that meant you were left stranded in the shadows of his forgotten responsibilities.

"I um brought you dinner." you clear your throat, pointing lamely at the boxes beside him like he couldn't clearly see they were there. He perks up, finally lifting his eyes to meet yours.

"Oh baby, thank you." The tension in his shoulders melts. "I'm sorry, you know how busy I am sometimes; right now it feels like I'm drowning in work," he chuckles, absentmindedly shifting in his chair.

you're always busy

You push a smile through the tangled ball of suppressed emotions climbing up your throat.

"I know you're busy, but do you think I could eat dinner with you today...please?" Your stomach twists in painful knots. It was pathetic really, the way you begged for attention like a needy dog more than a doting girlfriend, but you were desperate, scrambling to fan a flickering flame that felt long sputtered out.

stop

You knew what you were getting into when he asked you out—the stress, the anxiety, the workload, the long hours. Chan was always upfront and honest about the struggles of being an idols girlfriend, never wanting to veil your eyes from the harsh sting of realities rays.

then why does it still feel like your soul is burning?

He flicks his gaze to the screen, guilt gnawing at his core. There was so much to do in the day and just never enough time to do it. "I don't know, I don't really have a lot of time right now..." He mumbles, picking at the seam on his shorts apologetically, "Do you think you could wait about 20 minutes? I'm kind of on a roll here."

When your relationship was first blooming, your spirit would often shatter with those words, but pain only holds power when it isn't welcome, and as long as you are loved by him, you will accept the feeling with open arms.

"I'm going to go sit in the lounge room then." You try to keep the disappointment out of your tone, but it leaks through the cracks echoing in your chest, radiating in palpable waves. You clench your jaw, picking up your tray of food.

does he not care?

"Okay," The squeak of his chair indifferently swiveling back to its previous place echoes in your ears. Louder than anything you've ever heard.

he didn't even kiss you

1 hour 45 minutes and 13 seconds

That's how long you have been waiting in the lounge room for Chan to walk in the door.

that is how long you've been wallowing in a sad pathetic heap staring at your uneating supper

1 hour 45 minutes and 15 seconds now

16 seconds

17 seconds

You spin around when you hear the door creak open, anticipation fluttering in your stomach, only to plummet when you see Felix standing in the entrance, too busy shoveling a fork full of noodles in his mouth to notice your presence.

Felix was a familiar face, mostly associated with sweet smiles and bouncing eyes; you have only ever talked to him on a handful of occasions, possessing the basic relationship of hellos in the hallways and smiles when you enter the same room, but besides the couple times where he offered you some of his freshly baked brownies or told you which room Chan was in, you haven't actually had a conversation with the boy.

You groan, dramatically deflating in your seat.

Of course, it wasn't chan

Felix yelps, his heart leaping in his chest, only to wrap around his bones, doing trapeze tricks inside his ribs when he lays eyes on you—why, out of all the days he could have seen you, it was on the one day he was least ready, and the way your whole body slumps like a deflated balloon, it becomes crystal clear you weren't exactly jumping up and down to see him either.

Does Cupid have a vendetta against him or something?

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know anybody was in here," he stutters awkwardly, running his fingers through his hair like he was trying to fix it without a mirror. Disappointment quickly brews into guilt watching the way his eyes shift, hurt drooping his shoulders down.

"No, I'm sorry, it's not like that; I just thought—" You falter. What the hell did you think? Sorry, but I thought you were my boyfriend who left me here all by myself, and like usual, my stupid, hopeful heart really believed this time was going to be different. "You were someone different." You sink into the couch, a dull ache spiderwebbing through the chasms in your chest.

"Let me guess." His eyes crinkle with sympathy. "Chan."

You glance down at your ribs—some silly part of you really believed your shirt had blossomed with the crimson stain of your sorrows.

"How could you guess?" you mutter sarcastically, picking at the skin of your nails. Why did it seem like everybody else got the memo that if you were to search the thesaurus, your name would be the first word under forgotten?

"Well, really, it was a toss-up between you being with him for the past 5 years and the fact that he has been glued to his computer for the past 5 hours," he grins. "Pick your poison."

Your gaze drifts back to the couch that sits idly in front of you, lonely in the middle of the room, out of place, without the implant of another person's body.

"W-Well," he starts, shifting his bowl in his hands. "Do you... I don't know, want some company...maybe."

He's so awkward, so unsure, like a baby deer wobbling on unfamiliar legs, struggling to stay upright. You tilt your head, your lips pulling up into an adoring grin; you never really noticed it before, but he was sort of shy. You had a terrible tendency to take your time observing people unintentionally, causing discomfort to the victims of your restless brain—assessing in silence.

His ears burn when your eyes gloss over with an opaque glaze. His heart drops only for those silly little butterflies that always appear when you are around to swarm their wings around the lump growing in his throat.

Well, that was a bust.

Why couldn't he just be normal around you?

"O-Or not, that's fine too. I-I get it; you're probably l-like waiting for Chan or whatever. I-I can go get him if you would like." He jerks his thumb behind him, forgetting he was holding something for a second, stumbling to catch it right before it falls. You snicker, biting your lips to contain your laughter. His eyes flutter shut, scrunching his nose in embarrassment.

He was cute

Why haven't you talked to him before?

"No, please sit down," you lazily gesture to the couch in front of you. "It's not like Chan's going to be coming down anytime soon."

He sighs, his whole body melting with relief, practically forming into the couch when he shuffles over, adjusting himself to comfortably sit with his legs wide and his head tilted down. He picks up his fork just before whispering, "I'm sorry that he kept you waiting," and stuffing his face. You smile, the sight all sorts of endearing. The amount of food stuffed into his cheeks puffs them out, forcing his mouth into a pout that's smeared with red sauce. For a moment, you almost forget that you're supposed to be groveling, but why would life want to let you live when instead it could remind you constantly how much it sucks?

"I'm used to it." You learn to live with the absence of air when your hope always causes you to suffocate.

"You shouldn't have to be," he murmurs, his hand politely veiling his mouth while he chews. He's staring at his food like his noodles were an impossible labyrinth he's forced to escape, completely oblivious to the cataclysmic sentence he just uttered. Your jaw drops, stomach fluttering with butterflies, butterflies that you could’ve sworn burned out a long time ago. When most of your time is spent in a constant state of apocalypse, you forget the side effects of a romanticism, felt before your soul was littered with the echos of war.

"Oh?"

"Are you not going to eat?" He questions, forehead creased with concern as he gestures to the food that was currently burning a hole in the table. You stare at him stupidly, mouth ever so slightly agape. Did he not notice that there were swarms of zombified insects burrowing their way into your belly, kaleidoscopes charred wings creating panic in your pounding heart?

(cookie interruptions: I was today years old when I found out that a kaleidoscope was the technical term for a swarm of butterflies)

Why was he making you feel so jittery?

"Oh," you blink, giving an imperceptible shake of the head—a weak attempt to gather your disoriented thoughts.

Honestly, you had forgotten it was there.

"I was waiting to eat with Chan..." You mutter through the tufts of wool still stuffed in your head, wrapping your fingers around the tray, but when you pull open its flappy lid, your lips pull into a sneer glaring at the congealed sauce and cold noodles. You weren't surprised that your food had spoiled over the 2 hours you had been waiting, but it didn't make the frustration that bubbled in your gut any less apparent either. "But clearly, that hope was shortlived," you scoff, chucking the useless tray back on the table.

Felix clears his throat, adjusting himself in his seat. He often found himself tiptoeing on the edge of insanity, always rewriting the words he wanted to say, terrified you had written a line in the sand the waves had washed away.

You were a star with a heart tied to the sea, where he would have more success breaking the bond of the moon than turning the tides of the ocean that suffocated your soul.

So for now, he will coast the cosmos alone, waiting for the day you will finally look his way.

"You can have some of mine... if you want," he whispers, shyly scooting his cup over to you. "It's salmon-flavored; it's really good."

"Are you sure?" you blink, utterly flummoxed.

"Yeah, of course!" You swore you could trace the stories of the sky in the gaps where his freckles glowed.

"Thank you; I promise I won't eat too much," you joke, pulling out your fork. "I don't mind it, really. I can always make more as long as you're eating I'm okay," he grins, sliding his hand out of the way to allow room for yours, grateful for his generosity; you bite back a smile, digging into the hot noodles; a spicy flavor pulled straight from the sea explodes on your tongue as soon as the food meets your lips.

You swear you just tasted heaven's gates.

"Holy shit, this is delicious," you moan, rolling your eyes back in your head.

"I'm glad you like it," he smirks. "It's my special recipe."

"So you do more than bake, huh?" you waggle your brows lightheartedly, though you were sort of impressed by his broad palette of skills.

"You know that I bake!?" He was still recovering from the shock that you even knew his name—the way he often dissolves into the wall when you enter the room.

"Of course, I know that you bake; I always have to eat at least half of the plate of brownies Chan brings home." You giggle, picking at the noodles, wanting more but feeling guilty for hogging the whole bowl.

"Oh, I'm full," he stretches, rubbing his stomach like a stuffed cartoon character.

"Are you lying?" Cynism was a side effect of being a creative romanticist—your artistic brain didn't limit itself to only forming one conclusion, while the stories that ended up on paper were solely portrayed as having happy endings—you knew this philosophy was neither sadistic nor realistic, for even if the fictional characters made up of the fluid of your mind betrayed each other, what would a human, evil in its rawest form, do to you?

well that was melodramatic

"You know you're a very skeptical person," he jests, pulling his lips ever so slightly up.

"I'm a hopeless romantic; there's a difference," you state, stuffing your face when you finish studying him down to the very twitch of his right calf muscle.

"Aren't hopeless romantics supposed to be happy-go-lucky all the time? Seeing the world through rose-colored glasses and stuff?"

"You know we are called hopeless for a reason," you snort, unrealistic standards were more of a curse than a blessing.

Scratch that, having unrealistic standards is just a curse

“Being a hopeless romantic is like being an ocean in a world full of puddles.” Your soul speaks like his fingertips have felt its walls a million times before “devastating.”

He stares at you gobsmacked, blinking like you just hit him over the head with a mallet. Your mind kicks into gear, anxious little butterflies flipping on the switch for damage control.

that must have sounded so self-centered

"I-I didn't mean, like, in a cocky way, I'm better than other people. I just meant it's impossible to pour my passion anywhere because everybody else doesn't have room to take it. If anything, I-Im the bad one in this scenario.” You stutter, sporadically shaking your hands, worried that the misconception is going to create a concrete opinion. He quickly waves you off, seeming anything but bothered.

“An ocean in a world full of puddles that's pretty deep,” he implores, treating the words like age-old wine to be sipped with both time and deference. “You know you should really consider being a poet 'cause that like moved my soul.” Only Lee Felix can make humor sound so honest.

Why was he so ...amazed

"I like to think I'm a poet." Your cheeks are painted red as you bashfully tilt your head down.

but right now not so much

“You can't think you're a poet,” he chuckles. “If you ever wanted to read somebody your stuff, I would be happy to help…Maybe it could fix your uncertainty." Something twinkles in his eyes, something nervous yet desperate, something you couldn't quite pinpoint while your stomach was sprinting in circles—the mere thought of showing somebody else your poetry was the equivalent of slicing your heart in half and presenting it to the world on live television.

basically, something that will never happen never ever

"No, no, no, it's nothing like that. I don't really write poetry per se; I just write my..." You trail off.

What do you write?

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," he reassures, his warm smile cooling the icy anxiety that crystallized around your core.

Why do you do this to yourself??

Stupid Felix and his stupid power to loosen your lips-

stupid. stupid. stupid.

To be a poet is to be vulnerable; no great art is ever created comfortably.

Fuck it

“I write my dreams,” you blurt, peeking out through your clenched eyelids to see if Felix caught the spit of a sentence; clearly, he did the way he lifts his brows thoughtfully.

“Elaborate”

A man of many annoying questions you see

“Why,” you groan, sinking into your seat almost comically.

"Because I want to listen to you," he laughs like whiskey and wine, both husky and rich. You choke, your heart imploding into a million tiny, rose-shaped pieces.

"Nobody wants to listen to me ramble on about hopeless fantasies that will never come true," you sputter, still trying to reshape your rose-shaped shatters into something that resembles an organ.

"I do."

Oh well, there they go again, forming right back into roses-

He made all of this seem like a complex game of chess, every move of hesitance quickly countered by a block of honesty.

From the moment you could write, you found out that paper was not volatile the way people were, how you could erase a word written but, in time, in life, you cannot erase a sentence said—that philosophy stuck with you, forever rendering you apprehensive to vocalize your feelings.

Maybe it was your soft spot for the stars that made you speak, but either way, when your mouth opened, it felt as though all your past doubts had washed away, and for once, you were free.

"I have always held onto my dreams through the tip of a pen, existing in between the lines of my poetry. But I don't write about deep philosophical pearls of wisdom; I write about love, passion, beauty. I write about coffee and cream, roses and vanilla. I write what I think romance tastes like, how the contrast of the most iconic confessions has been written in the rain, a usually gloomy, grey thing completely transformed through the lenses of love…" You sigh, tilting your head against the back of the cushion in bliss.

"I write the way I want to love, for I know it's the only way to quell my heart's aching urge to live anywhere but reality."

He stares at you eerily still, blinking once, twice, three times."

Why wasn't he saying anything?

Perhaps you were drunk off Felix's promises, or the cracks Chan created in your chest made you bleed with a passion only ever reserved for your poetry. But either way, you felt naked—exposed under his exploring eyes.

"What?" You croak, picking at the sleeve of your shirt.

Why did everybody act like you were crazy?

Was there something wrong with you?

You are floating in the asteroid belt, a thousand tiny rocks hovering around your head.

"Maybe you're just not looking in the right places." There’s a deep intensity in his eyes, a million roaring waves crashing against each other; you run face-first into a meteor, bouncing around the surfaces of a weightless space.

How many brain-altering revelations could Felix bestow before your brain cracks?

"You know, I haven't even told my friends that," you deflect. It was a dangerous game, diving too deep into your thoughts, and right now, with him—with that statement, danger could quickly bleed into destruction.

"So, I'm not your friend?" Clearly, Felix catches on to the sudden swerve of the conversation, how he eases into it with such grace, jestingly poking your knee.

"This is the first time I've ever had a real conversation with you," you scoff, poking him right back. His jaw drops in faux offense.

"You know, I just gave you my food. I think that deserves an upgrade into friendship territory," he states matter-of-factly.

Two can play at that game-

"I don't have your number; usually friends have each other's number." You place your elbows on your knees. He has been playing a metaphorical game of chess with you this whole time, his pawns moving ever so slightly forward. He forced your hand, the comfortability in your eyes making openings on the board you never meant to create. His rook, his bishop, his queen—they kiss the place right below your king.

You had one more trick up your sleeve-

You were a creative romantic whose moves were nothing less than a story, and you were going to be damned if you let your king be captured.

Now, where's the happy ending in that?

(cookie interruptions… I dont know what this is nor why i am so dramatic but hey what can you do ALSO LISTEN TO SLOW DOWN BY CHASE ATLANTIC I BEGTH OF YOU )

He leans forward, pressing his tongue against his cheek. The fabric of his shirt stretches across the hard ridges of his abs—

No, stop it, bad y/n.

"Do you want it?" He leans his head ever. So. Slightly. Forward

"Maybe I do."

"Maybe I'll give it to you," soft, smooth voice-

you narrow your eyes,

"What will Chan think?"

"It doesn't matter what Chan thinks-"

"Tell that to Chan-"

"Maybe I will." His lips-

"You know, if Chan saw us here right now, he would not be very happy." You suck your teeth.

Check-

He scoffs. Moves his bishop.

You're right back where you started.

"You're not his pet."

"Yeah, but I am his girlfriend." Block.

"Those two words are not synonymous," he says. Moves his queen.

Too many openings, too many moves, too many pieces on the board.

Too many outcomes.

Do you even still want to play?

Weren't you the one who started the game?

You bite your cheek, his eyes burning like molten amber, glinting in the overhead lights.

Should you have really asked for his number?

What would Chan think if he saw it in your phone?

Who were you kidding? He would actually have enough time to look at your phone.

"You know," he leans back, extending his arms to drape across the couch, pushing his thighs ever so slightly apart. Gone is the man with smiles like sugar; determination wisps across his face like spits of fire, overtaking every feature."If I give you my number, I'm going to have to help you unlearn your engraved cynicism." He's closing in on you, moving all his pawns in one fair swoop. You're surrounded, swarmed.

"You can't ungrave something it's scientifically impossible." You shift your king. One last dying breath-

Before-

"I can try."

Checkmate

And like every person of honor does when they have nobly lost a battle they created-

You run away.

“I have to admit, as much as I loved this conversation, I really should be going,” you say, picking up your tray of forgotten food to chuck in the trash, leaving Felix's bowl on the table. He jumps up, scrambling to pick up his mess while you dart out the door, tossing the tray in the can just outside the room.

“Wait,” he gasps, stumbling to catch up with your speed. Your finger, out of habit, moves to press the button to the elevator doors—that is, before he catches it, his warm hand wraps around your wrist.

“Now, what gentleman would I be making a lady get her own door?” He bellows, voice deep and low, a sound echoing through his chest as the fabric of his shirt kisses your back. He’s so close, so close, so—

How long has it been since you've been touched?

Heat. You're drenched in it, painted in it, enveloped in it.

His hand grazes your skin as he slides up your wrist, his finger extending to press the button.

Your breath hitches.

Body shutters.

Every atom erupting in flames.

The elevator doors slam open-

Your brain clicks back into place-

“Will I be seeing you again?” Your hot, so hot. He’s hot, so hot. Breath—it tickles your ear. Disoriented, so disoriented.

“I still don't have your number,” you manage to utter, slipping into the doors. His face will be the final thing you see as you descend down the shaft, lifelessly walking to your car where you will go home, go to sleep, and start your routine all over again. He smirks, flicking his eyes to your pants.

“Yes, you do.”

I do?

The doors inch shut, and a small, teeny-tiny part of you wants to wrench them open, pull him in, force him into the stanzas of your story. You are tired—tired of waiting for your life to begin, tired of repeating the same vicious cycle.

But that wasn't you talking-

That was the hopeless part of your personality,

The unrealistic-

The fiction-

Life wasn't a game and reality wasn't a book.

You had a good thing going wth Chris and you were going to be damned to ruin it just because of one fun conversation.

You reach one finger into the back pocket, feeling around for what Felix could have been talking about.

There's no way.

Your skin brushes across a smooth surface—something that definitely wasn’t there before.

There's no fucking way.

You pull it out.

It's pink and folded and definitely written on. You unfold it.

XXX-XXX-XXXX. Just in case you ever need an editor or a friend.

Oh well, fuck the game. He just flipped over the whole damn chessboard.

Read Chapter 2 here

160 notes · View notes

urf1lterr · 9 months

Text

moonlight | m.yg [1]

next chapter: soon

summary: when it’s finally the week of your big sister's wedding, you’re more than excited for it to be over as responsibilities come flying your way. however, you can’t seem to stop thinking about a particular groomsman with blonde hair.

pairing: groomsman!yoongi x bridesmaid!y/n

genre: wedding!au, strangers to lovers au | awkward, fluff, angst, mature

word count: 7.4k

status: in progress

author’s note: reposting this bc i miss him. i’ve been wanting to do this for sooooo long but never had time- still don’t but oops.

Sleep is what you really needed right now, especially when you already lacked it in your daily life. But no, that wasn’t really an option right now, not when you had to wait for your sister to pick you up from the airport and get dinner afterwards.

Realistically, you could’ve slept on the plane ride here, but you hated the seat you were in. At first, you sat in the aisle seat because it was always the fastest way to exit afterwards, but you had to give that up when a man probably in his late 50s basically ordered you to move to the middle because older people need "more" room.

You weren’t happy, but you weren’t about to argue because of this.

All you wanted to do right now was go to your old bedroom and change into some comfy sweats and an oversized t-shirt before pulling your blankets over your head to sleep in peace. You knew it was not going to happen any time soon, but a girl can wish.

As you finally saw your suitcases at the baggage claim area, you grabbed one, almost falling by how large and heavy it was. You cursed at yourself for overpacking, but you were staying in town for two weeks and could not risk the chance of not having enough clothes. Luckily, your other suitcase was fairly smaller.

Walking to the other side of the terminal, you saw the exit to the pick up area, immediately moving your legs faster because you couldn’t wait to get out of here. There were too many people walking slow, it surprised you how calm you’ve lasted.

Once you reached a bench in front of the area, you noticed that the weather was not that great. It was raining, which you loved- but your sister planned most of her events outside so this is probably going to make her cry for hours.

And you really don't wanna be the shoulder she cries on- she is very dramatic when she sobs.

Pulling out your phone, you noticed you received three texts. One from your sister, mom, and boss.

[mom] 5:57pm: were you able to land safely? don’t look tired and try not to be introverted, namjoon’s mother is joining us for dinner. put on some makeup, love you!

Rolling your eyes, you shook your head. You weren’t surprised in the slightest, you knew how your mother was. She didn’t mean any harm, but she loves to impress others. By looking a bit tidy, she thinks people wouldn’t think lowly of us. However, she fails to understand that we’ve known your future brother-in-law’s family for almost six years now, you don’t believe they will call off the wedding by seeing their future daughter-in-law’s little sister bare faced.

Plus, his mother is the sweetest. If anything, she always told you how much she loved seeing natural faces compared to the overdose of products people nowadays use in which she refers to “tiktok trends.”

[jae] 6:01pm: the office is going to miss you! tell ur sister congrats again, and then do it again for me once she’s actually married lol. don’t you dare ask if there’s work for you to do it in the next two weeks!

Laughing to yourself, you quickly replied with a small “thank you, i will tell her,” along with a “darn, now i cant use work as an excuse to get out of wedding duties. but if there is work needed to be done just text me.”

[violet] 6:13pm: almost there!! look out for a black suv. hope u don’t need to go home, kinda planning to go straight to dinner bc our reservation is at 7 and joonie doesn’t want to be late! he’s scared they’ll judge us, see you soon <3

Of course he would think that, coming from the man who thinks texting and walking is rude- it's debatable!

That’s when you looked at the time, noticing that it was exactly 6:20pm. There was still time to make it by 7, you were sure of it.

As you were about to reply to your mom and sister, you heard the sound of tires screeching with constant honks. You looked up, noticing a very expensive-looking suv pulled near the curb, still beeping.

Was this your sister? I mean, it was black like she stated it would be.

Your question was finally answered when you noticed the passenger window being rolled down, revealing two young looking men with bright smiles eagerly waving, the driver still beeping with his other hand causing many people around to glare as they walked by.

You noticed the man with very shaggy hair, wearing what seems to be a white t-shirt, black slacks, and sneakers as he opened the door. “What’s up, y/n,” he smiled, making his way towards you.

“Taehyung? What are you doing here? I thought Violet was going to pick me up- is she in the backseat?” You questioned as he automatically went to grab your bags. “And what is this moron doing here? I thought he got his license taken away last month?”

Looking back to the SUV, you saw your cousin in the driver’s seat with what seems to be him fighting off a man with a bright yellow and green vest knocking violently on his window side.

“You cannot park here, you’re holding up traffic!” the man yelled, causing your cousin to roll his eyes before rolling down the window maybe two inches before yelling back.

“You’re the one holding up traffic standing in the middle of the road!”

“Don’t make me call security! Park in the parking lot!” The man dragged on, hitting the side of the car repeatedly and motioning his arms to drive away at the same time.

"Aren't you security?!" Your cousin honked before glaring at the man. “And you scratch my car, you pay for it!”

You stopped watching their little altercation as Taehyung began rolling your suitcases towards the trunk of the car, making you follow along. “She wasn’t able to come, apparently she had to go pick up some materials she ordered for the centerpieces,” he stated, setting the bags inside before closing the trunk. “And I am not sure why he is driving, I think everybody forgot he shouldn’t be and I am too lazy to do it, I was not able to take my nap today because Namjoon made me paint the photo booth all morning- it was exhausting.”

Opening the passenger door for you, you quickly jumped in as he shut it before jumping into the seat behind you. Turning to your left, you could still see your cousin arguing with the man before Taehyung told him to drive already.

“No! I hope you have a shitty day, you asshole!” Your cousin screamed before speeding away down the street. After literally two seconds, he looked your way while smiling brightly. “I missed you!”

Giving him a dirty glance, you slap his arm. “Ow! What was that for?” He whined, rubbing his arm with his free hand.

“Jungkook, why the fuck are you driving?” you declared. “You’re not allowed”

“Says who,” he rolled his eyes.

“The state,” Taehyung says from the backseat.

Jungkook scoffs, shaking his head. “They can’t do anything, I pay my taxes.”

Groaning, you rub your forehead. “This has nothing to do with your taxes, you imbecile.”

He gives you a confused look for a quick moment before moving his eyes back on the road again. “You don’t need to use big words to attack me, y/n. This isn’t law school.”

You heard Taehyung sighing at how annoying his friend was being. To clear things up, Taehyung was actually a close friend of your side of the family through Jungkook, the two of them being inseparable since kindergarten.

You just so happened to know him well since he always followed Jungkook everywhere he went, same vice versa, as you saw your cousin basically everyday due to only being one year apart and both your mom’s being sisters. But with Taehyung, you happened to be the same age, same with their other friend in their trilogy, Jimin. In which you were surprised he wasn’t here because Jimin loved going to dinner with them.

“Why are you driving?”

“I got my license back,” he smiled, nodding heavily when he saw the questionable facial expression you were making. “I swear! I went to the DMV and everything. I got it back after paying like $3,000.”

Choking on your saliva after hearing how much he had to pay, you gasped, “Why so much? What exactly did you do?!”

Jungkook awkwardly moved both his hands on the steering wheel, obviously not wanting to answer your question as you heard his friend chuckling in the backseat. “Yeah, tell her Jungkook, what did you do?”

Throwing a small box of tissues he had left near the middle cup holder to Taehyung, Jungkook began his excuse. “I’m not really sure, apparently it’s illegal to drive through rain puddles,” he shrugged.

You shifted your head a bit, “that’s not illegal.”

“It is when you purposely speed through them to get people wet,” Taehyung giggled as Jungkook groaned in annoyance.

“Dude! You weren’t supposed to tell her that part!” Jungkook whined.

“That is so rude,” you pinched his arm as he tried moving away from you, knowing your first reaction to things were mostly violence. “How would you like it if someone did that to you?”

“I actually wouldn’t mind it,” he stated. “Saves me money from going to a waterpark.”

Sometimes, you wondered what goes on in that big head of your cousin. Not much common sense, that’s for sure.

“Anywho,” you spoke up, trying to change the dumb conversation you just had. “What’s the plan for tonight? I heard something about a dinner, but other than that I have idea what’s going on. No one told me anything.”

Jungkook shrugged, glancing at you a few times as he answered your question. “I know we have dinner with some of Namjoon’s friends, his mom, your parents, and then you sister’s friends. But afterwards, no clue.”

“Why are you and Taehyung going then?”

He scoffed, looking offended. “I’ll have you know, we are very much indeed Namjoon’s friends,” he proudly said before giving in once he saw how that did nothing. Maybe acquaintances but definitely not friends. “All the groomsmen were invited.”

Ah yes, you almost forgot Jungkook, Taehyung, and Jimin were appointed groomsmen which was a big shock considering they were not close to Namjoon like that.

But to be completely honest, your sister did have six bridesmaids while Namjoon only had three real groomsmen he wanted. So, she was able to convince Namjoon to allow the other three to take apart on their special day because they were basically like family.

And because he had no one else to call.

Although, it didn’t take much convincing, Namjoon did love the guys and they all bonded really well whenever they did interact.

“So, Jimin’s going?”

“He should be,” you heard Taehyung answer. “He couldn’t come with us to pick you up because he had to drop his little brother off at baseball practice- but I think their mom is going to pick him up once he’s done.”

You nodded, understanding the situation. To be honest, you were happy the three of them were going. It’s not like you wouldn’t know anyone tonight, maybe only a couple people, but the rest of your family never knew how to make you feel comfortable the same way the boys did.

Maybe its because you basically grew up with them and how you were all close in age, but you felt more open and less forced to act a certain way when they were by your side.

Throughout the car ride, you had to constantly bicker with Jungkook about slowing down and to avoid potholes as it kept getting in the way of you applying concealer and powder from your seat. You especially yelled when he almost made you smash your mascara wand in your eye, causing Taehyung to hide his laughter as he scrolled through twitter.

Finally, after small loads of traffic and listening to Jungkook’s ‘go crazy, go stupid’ playlist in which consisted of old Taylor Swift and Hannah Montana songs, you made it to the restaurant. The problem was, the rain was hectic. You’re surprised Jungkook didn’t crash into a pole trying to see through his windshield wipers.

Once you parked, Jungkook sheepishly smiled. “Okay so we have a small problem- nothing serious,” he stated as you gave him a look for him to continue. “We don’t have an umbrella.”

“What-” you and Taehyung said at the same time. “I can’t show up in there all wet, it’s pouring outside!”

“-and I can’t risk getting my shirt wet, I didn’t bring a sweatshirt and I am wearing a white top- my chest will be see through if it gets wet!” Taehyung cried out. “I don’t want people violating me.”

“Calm down, drama queens,” Your cousin rolled his eyes. “Y/n, cover your face with your arms to protect your makeup- that’s the only thing you should save. Taehyung, wrap your arms over your chest, don’t you dare lift them until we are sheltered. We got this guys!”

You scoffed as he cheered you both on. At least you all will be drenched together, you thought.

Getting ready to jump out of the car, you looked down at your outfit. You were wearing an oversized dark brown crewneck sweater, black thick leggings, and your white platform sneakers. At least you were kind of warm and didn’t have much to damage from the rain.

Looking back at how far the restaurant was from your parking spot, you three basically had to run the side of the building to get to the front. It wouldn’t have been a problem if it was regularly raining- but as it was lashing down with some now background sounds of thunder and lightening, you knew this was going to be a bad idea.

Jungkook gave you two a confident nod before aiming towards his door as Taehyung and you gave each other a worried look, eventually doing the same. “On the count of 3!” Jungkook yelled from his side.

Once we were all ready, hands on the door handle, you heard Taehyung start, “1-”

“-3!” Jungkook screamed and ran out the door, hearing the door lock as he ran his distance.

Taehyung and you looked at each other in shock before chasing after him. As you took more and more steps, you could tell that this rainstorm was probably one of the worst you have ever encountered.

But to be fair, you should have checked the forecast and remembered to bring your own umbrella.

After what seemed like minutes, the three of you finally made it to the front of the building in which you were blessed with a roof for your protection. At this moment, you have never been happier.

Moving your eyes to the two boys standing near you, you noticed how even though Tae’s hair was swamped, he managed to barely get his chest wet. Jungkook’s hair began curling up on the sides, but only that and his shoulders were fairly drenched.

You tried straightening out your sweater while looking up at Taehyung. “Do I look alright?”

“Yeah, you totally don’t look like you just ran through the rain.” he nodded, even though you could feel your hair soaked.

“Your makeup still looks intact,” Jungkook added, “but your hair- eh.”

You glared at him as he lifted his hands up in defense. He shouldn’t be talking, his hair was soaked too.

Trying to make yourselves look presentable, you didn’t notice someone rushing near you three, only when you felt a pair of arms wrapping behind you, causing you to squeal.

Moving your head to see the owner of the arms, you immediately hugged them back. “Jimin!”

“Y/n!” he giggled, but suddenly pulled away. “Ew, you’re drenched.” Nodding towards Jungkook, he quickly understood what happened. “Why didn’t you just tell me you guys were here? Jungkook, I texted you that I had an umbrella if you needed one.”

Taehyung and you turned to glare at Jungkook as he turned red and stammered, "I’m sorry, I-I didn’t see the message!”

"Hold on, man. Didn't you just dropped off your brother? It's pouring," Taehyung.

Jimin shrugged, "Do you think the MLB teams stop their games over some rain."

"In some cases, yes."

“Y/n! You’re here!” you heard that familiar voice squeal behind you, followed by a pair of arms once again hugging you. “I would totally not touch you, but I haven’t seen you in three months!”

Smiling, you held your annoying sister until you heard a cough. You let go to see your parents standing near her, your mom pushing her to the side, making your sister almost fall to the ground, before wrapping her arms around you. “Y/n! How was your flight? You never replied to my text, young lady,” she crossed her arms. Oh, how you love when your mother’s mood changes constantly.

She suddenly touched your face lightly, “Your face looks lovely! You’re hair though- uh its alright! The rain is our excuse!” she beamed.

Same old mother, but at least you knew she did not want you to take things seriously.

You felt your dad lightly wrap an arm around you, giving you a short greeting, probably not wanting to hold up our reservation as well but not because he didn’t want to be rude, he wanted to eat already.

Noticing no one else was outside, you sister began speaking. “Namjoon, his friends, and mom are inside sitting at the table already. I told them not to wait up on us so we don’t cause much of a disturbance inside.”

Nodding, she then began guiding everyone inside with your parents following directly behind her while Jimin, Tae, and Jungkook walked right along with you. It was a short walk inside, but you noticed that the table must have been all the way in the back, maybe in another room by how far in you all were going.

Being right, you could see that they reserved a private room which was extremely crazy- this must’ve been so expensive for a casual dinner!

The first person you noticed was your future brother-in-law sitting at the middle of the wide circular table, a seat empty right beside him for your sister you assumed. You identified his mother pretty clearly as she sat on the other side of him.

Your parents quickly sat on the seats right next to where your sister just sat. You moved your eyes to see most of the bridesmaids, who you knew for the longest as they all either went to school or worked with her, sitting right near you parents and across from them.

There was only one seat next to the last bridesmaid that was opened, so you assumed it was for you as it was across from your sister’s seat. Looking at the boys, you frowned, realizing you would be separated as they only had empty seats on the other side of the table where Namjoon’s mom sat. At least you could look at them from across the table.

Jimin fake pouted before they all walked to the available seats. You finally noticed the three other boys sitting beside them, only recognizing one of them, Hoseok. You were happy to be seated right next to him as you two have met many times in the past, but you couldn’t help but wonder who the other two were and why you weren’t introduced to them earlier.

Hoseok was actually a close friend of both Namjoon and your sister, in fact, he was the one who introduced them many years ago. He was probably one of the few close male friends your sister even had who she trusted with all her heart who didn’t want to sleep with her.

You also befriended him as he was the only one who wouldn’t complain but encouraged you to hang out with them during their high school days when your sister pulled the ‘hormonal teenager who hates everybody’ phase.

“Nice to see you, y/n. Thanks for coming, I know you must be exhausted from your flight, but it means a lot that you were able to make it,” Namjoon kindly greeted you, in which you smiled in return.

“It’s okay,” you shyly reply, feeling your nerves kick in because you suck at public speaking, even when it’s with people you’ve already met.

“Now she’s shy,” you heard your cousin stifle in a low laugh before Jimin kicked his leg, in which he groaned in pain, trying not to make any noise as he clutched his knee.

As you gave Jungkook a dirty look, you began turning, quickly taking a look at the guests you didn’t know. One seemed to look slightly tall, or you assumed he was by how long his torso was. He was very good looking, just not your type.

But the other one was already looking at you, his eyes quickly moving away when he realized he was caught, not seeming to care though. He had very beautiful eyes and bright blonde hair, but he looked very intimidating with his blank- almost cold expression.

“You look dashing, y/n!” You heard Namjoon’s mom exclaim, making you turn extremely red. God, you hated when people gave you compliments, especially when others were around. You did not like the attention it brought.

“Thank you” you looked down, trying your best to make your face cool down. You wish you were in the rain right now.

“I take full responsibility for her hair not looking the best,” Jungkook spoke up, making you immediately cover your face with your hands, praying he stop talking. “I forgot the umbrella.”

You heard him groan again, maybe from one of the boys kicking him for his irrelevant comments.

“I know the struggle,” You heard one of the unknown guests Namjoon had, the one who looked tall, begin. “I tripped while trying to walk in and landed on a puddle.” This caused you to giggle, happy that he was willing to embarrass himself to deflect the attention off you. “But it’s alright, luckily I had extra pants in my car.”

“Now that you mentioned that uh- fascinating information,” Namjoon awkwardly started. “Y/n, I realized you never met my other groomsmen-”

“Groomsmen? How dare you” You heard the same friend fake gasp, causing Hoseok to groan right beside you. “I am the one and only best man”

“So, that’s Jin,” Hoseok finally spoke up, rolling his eyes at his friend who you realized probably loved the attention more than you actually knew.

“Oh, hi” you shyly waved as he gave you a cheesy smile.

“Sorry about him, he’s a little over the top,” Namjoon sweetly mentioned to you, causing Jin to scoff. “-but in a good way!”

Just by observing their attitude towards each other, you can tell Jin was the friend who made Namjoon be more confident and open-minded enough to try new things. He seemed like the hype man of the group.

“And that’s Yoongi,” Hoseok added, pointing to the man on the left of him, the one who looked like he did not want to talk to anybody. You began to realize this Yoongi guy was more reserved than the rest, giving you a small nod as you awkwardly looked away.

“Sorry about him, he seems quiet- but he does talk! Quite a lot actually,” Jin added, causing Yoongi to nudge him.

“Same with this one,” Violet giggled, looking your way causing you to glare at her. Way to put the spotlight on you.

Luckily for you, your mother just knew so many topics to talk about that she carried a conversation fairly quickly right after your sister’s comment.

You would have listened to it all the way, but to be honest, you were mentally exhausted. Work had you up till 10pm last night and with it being such a jammed pack month already, you completely forgot to pack until this morning. Having to check in two bags, you had to arrive at the airport three hours early to make it in time to depart from all the long lines.

You don’t think anyone beside your dad and Namjoon’s mom were listening to your mom because as you looked around the table, you realized people were either making faces at their friends or just looking anywhere else but the speaker.

That’s when you noticed Taehyung making a silly face your way, causing you to smile at him. But when you did so, you saw from the corner of your eye the restrained individual placing his eyes on you that didn’t leave until he was about to be caught again.

Yeah, you wished this dinner would be over soon.

"That was probably one of the best steaks I have ever digested," Namjoon smiled while wiping his mouth with a napkin.

"Did he just say 'digested'?" you heard one of your sister's friend, Mina you believe, whisper to her other friend, Hani, who just shrugged.

After about an hour of awkward conversations that consisted of when Violet and Namjoon would be making babies and who would take custody if they both randomly die, dinner was finally over.

To be honest, you were glad that you were mostly not chosen to speak. That was until your mother thought it would be a brilliant idea to bring up your personality compared to your sisters, in which she made sure to mention the one time in 4th grade when you threw a tantrum and bursted into tears because you didn't want her to leave you alone on the first day of school.

Violet made sure to clarify how immature you were as a fourth grader, in which you thought if it would really be bad punching her in the face right then and there. You were sure makeup could cover the bruises.

"I should probably get going, I think your father is getting off soon from work," you heard Namjoon's mom say, slowly standing up before giving her son a warm hug.

Following the signs, everyone began standing up, getting ready to say their goodbyes. That was until your sister suddenly spoke up, becoming an announcer.

"Wait I forgot to mention, tomorrow is day 1 out of 7!" she cheered as her fiancee placed an arm on her lower back. "Don't forget to bring your shoes!"

"What's tomorrow?" You thought, but apparently out loud as everyone glanced your way, causing you to look back at Violet.

"You don't know?!" she gasped, looking back towards your mom. "Did you not tell her?" Watching as your mother softly gave her a small smile, your sister's eyes made their way back to you in disbelief. "It's our first dance rehearsal."

"Dance rehearsal?" You squinted your eyes, not believing how in the world she planned to make people learn a dance in under a week. "You do understand your wedding is in 6 days right after tomorrow, right?"

"We couldn't plan practices earlier because you and Jin don't live near here and we didn't want you both going out of your way to get here for it," Namjoon commented. "That would've been too expensive."

Realization hit you, you have to dance...in front of people.

Looking up, you tried showing a relaxed expression, but you're sure you only pulled out an uncomfortable one at the thought of having to publicly dance when you are in fact the worse dancer ever.

Truth be told, you wish you can easily agree and go with the flow, but knowing yourself the best you know you cannot pull this off. There is a reason why you dropped dance class in high school and it was because you kept making your partner's toes bleed from stepping on them so much.

But before you could speak up, or as if you were going to, your sister beat you to it. "You're doing it, no exceptions," she pointed a finger at you.

"You can be my partner!" Jimin exclaimed, wrapping an arm over your shoulder, trying to cheer you up. "I'm a great dancer."

"I beg to differ," Taehyung crossed his arms. "Have you seen these hips? Been shaking them since I was eight years-old."

"Just Dance doesn't count," Jimin hissed, making Tae scoff.

"It does when you're undefeated!"

Before the two of them could continue their bickering, your sister intervened. "None of you are dancing with her, I've already assigned partners," and right when they were going to ask who she added, "and you're not finding out until tomorrow. I don't want you trying to ask us to privately change your partners tonight so deal with it."

That definitely made them shut up before she carried on saying farewell to everybody.

You being you, you stood there stiff as everyone hugged each other. Never knowing how to really say 'bye', you often just waved. It was your thing.

You felt large arms wrap around you, causing you to gasp for air from the tight hold. "It was so nice meeting you, y/n!" You heard Jin burst out before pulling away. "Hoping we end up as partners, you seem so chill."

Certain that that was not going to happen, you sheepishly nodded. Not that you did not want him as a partner, to be fair, you probably would have chosen him as one of your top choices if it were up to you only because he seemed friendly and welcoming.

However, he was the best man.

Everybody knows the best man always gets paired with the maid of the honor, in which you believe was Naile.

Once he moved passed you to say his goodbyes with your parents, you noticed Yoongi finishing his farewells with Namjoon's mom before turning in your direction.

Shifting your eyes somewhere else in the room, you felt a weird feeling in your stomach.

For some reason, interacting with someone else who is also quiet but now intimidating made you extra nervous, fearful they might randomly lash out on you.

Just before Yoongi could at least give you a small nod, like he had done earlier, Namjoon announced that we should all be on our ways as the restaurant probably wanted us gone by now.

Running up to Jimin, you followed your friends and cousin out the door. Not noticing the pair of eyes following your every move up until you were out of sight.

Finally, now you can go home and sleep.

Waking up this morning was hard for you, especially when you knew how stressful it was going to be.

Maybe it was because you knew what was to come but didn't at the same time. It was safe to say you were panicking the whole drive to the small park your sister booked for the morning.

However, your sister was nothing close to nervous, in fact, she was beaming in joy throughout the car ride, constantly telling you she was excited to be a day closer to her wedding.

"Don't freak out too much about practice, okay?" Violet began as she parked the car. "None of them have experience dancing, except Hobi and maybe like Jimin and whatever Tae thinks is dancing, but other than that we all suck."

"Thanks for the pep talk, I feel so much better," you sarcastically declare before opening the door and getting out.

"I'm serious! I know you well enough to see how anxious you are about this," she argued. "But I made sure to pick an easy dance we all can learn within a few days"

You only sighed. There was nothing you could really do at this point so there was not much convincing she was doing to make you feel better. Plus, it's her day. You kind of have to do whatever she wants whether you like it or not.

Following her to a medium-sized building, you noticed how nice this park really was. There was a huge duck pond on one side with a beautiful garden all around.

Where does she find these places?

As you two opened the doors, she led you down a hallway until you were walking into a pretty large banquet room. You saw mostly everyone was here, besides Jin and Namjoon, but other than that everyone was here.

"Where's my man?" Your sister questioned, setting her bag on one of the side tables as you closely followed behind her.

"Trying to figure out where he put his dancing shoes," Hoseok stated, lying back on the chair he was sitting in. "Hi, y/n."

You softly waved, seeing that Taehyung and Yoongi were sitting right next to him. Tae was too busy playing some game on his phone to notice your presence as Yoongi just gave you a brief glimpse before going on his phone as well.

"What took you forever to get here?" Jungkook asked, pulling up a seat right next to you on one of the empty tables you sat in. You felt Jimin sit next to him, waiting for your answer.

"Violet couldn't leave the house without shaving her face," you whispered, hoping she didn't hear that or else she would come up with something 10x worse to joke about you.

"I did notice something was different about her," Jimin joked, making you all laugh.

After talking for some time as your sister kept trying to call her fiancee, you heard the slam of a door with the sounds of footsteps nearing.

It appeared that Namjoon probably found his shoes with the help of Jin as they both ran in together, breathing a little heavy as your sister put her hand on her hip.

"Ready," he smiled, trying not to provoke your sister anymore.

Knowing your sister, she was probably going to hire some dance teacher to teach you guys proper techniques. What you did not know was that this instructor was going to make you freestyle your own ending steps with your partners.

Or at least that's what the instructor mentioned after they showed up fifteen minutes late due to "traffic."

But now that they have said it, no one knew who their partners were.

"Time for the moment everyone's been waiting for," your sister stomped her feet and motioned everyone to come near her. Once we did so, she asked, "who wants to know first?"

Jungkook raised his hand quickly. "Me!"

"I think we should make this a little fun," Violet smirked. "Let's write the pair's names on paper, randomly mix them in a bowl and then draw."

Namjoon nodded, not really caring too much about how this was going to be done. He just wanted to begin lessons, already knowing that he wasn't quite the best when it came to body movements only for the world to see.

You were despising every second of this. As the clock kept on ticking, you kept thinking about who your partner would be.

It's not like anyone here was truly horrible- or so you thought.

Plus, you had a high chance of getting the three boys you loved to death. However, your sister did say Jimin and Taehyung were out of the picture, so your only hope was your cousin.

But in your opinion, you weren't familiar with Namjoon's friends. Jin seemed like a sweetheart, but maybe the close proximity of dancing with someone who was practically a stranger was getting in your head.

The main person you were worried about was Yoongi.

It's not like you completely disliked him, you never dislike anyone unless you had a reason to. It was that you didn't know him.

You didn't know Jin either, but the difference was Jin made an effort to communicate to others. Yoongi just sits there with a blank expression, making you question if he is judging or ignoring you.

It's quite intimidating, really.

And with you being extremely quiet too, well... two quiet people don't really work well- or in a situation where both have to actively dance.

"Jimin and Leia!" you heard Namjoon announce.

Damn.

"Sorry, y/n," Jimin mouthed, making you swat your hand in reassurance that you were fine. I guess he's known you for so long to understand how frightening this was for you.

But you're a big girl, you'll get through this.

"Taehyung and Yuna!" Your sister roared.

Okay, maybe not.

Finally, after Hoseok and Jin were called, your nerves were getting to you. Now was not the time to overthink, whatever happens- happens.

Jungkook wasn't making this easier as he kept waving his arms around, mouthing the words "we're definitely partners." And for a split second, you began to believe him.

Well, that was until-

"Y/n and Yoongi," Namjoon called out, making your face fall. Violet began clapping her hands while her fiancee proudly smiled.

Feeling your face turn red, you continue staring at Namjoon as he slowly tilted his head to the side for you to go to your new partner, in which you responded with continuing on your stare.

It felt like hours before you felt someone's presence beside you, causing Namjoon to fix his attention back to announcing who's Jungkook's partner was going to be.

Moving your head slightly to the right, you could make out the bright blonde hair immediately. Yoongi was sitting next to you, oh my-

"I guess we're uh- partners?" he lightly squinted his eyes before looking directly at your own.

You felt weak at the knees by this eye contact, how are you going to make it through the week?

"R-right," you began, mentally screaming at yourself for stuttering "I mean right! Yeah, how uhm..cool?"

"Not really," he sighed, making your eyes widen. Was he really not that happy by this decision? "I don't dance much"

Relief hit you by his answer, okay maybe he doesn't hate you. "Don't worry, I'm on the same boat."

"Namjoon knows I don't do any of this," Yoongi cringed to himself. Does he mean dancing? "I'm sure your sister knows you aren't great either, they should have just partnered us up with someone who wasn't going to make us look humiliating."

Ouch, that stung.

You shut your mouth, not sure what to reply. You understood his point, but at the same time you didn't. It was beginning to become clear now that maybe he wasn't happy with this setup.

"Are we ready to begin?" you heard the instructor exclaim, causing you to look past Yoongi in which you were grateful this small conversation would have to be cut. "Please come forward and spread out, only your partners should be near you!"

Rubbing your fingers, you slowly followed after Yoongi who took the lead towards the middle of the spaced out "dance floor," or the only area in this room that did not have folding tables. The two of you ended up on the side while the others placed themselves throughout the middle and front of the teacher.

After listening to him ramble on about the needed chemistry between partners and showing how our hands must be placed on his practice dummy, who was Namjoon- which Violet did not like, it was time for everyone else to follow.

"Remember, the men are the leads! Take your lady's hand with your left and place your right on her hip! I want to feel the sexual tension from here!"

"Or a comfortable tension," Namjoon interfered.

Looking up at Yoongi, you saw him dully take his left hand out to grab your right one. By his lack of emotion, it triggered you to malfunction and embarrass the hell out of yourself.

He could feel how stiff your body was once he grabbed your hand, beginning to place his right hand behind on your mid back.

"Closer!" the instructor popped out of nowhere, causing you to flinch and almost trip over Yoongi's shoes. Yes, you just stepped on his shoes- he probably hates you now. "Hand on hip! You'll get the rhythm faster."

"No thanks, I'd rather not," Yoongi plainly stated, but was pushed inches away from your face when the instructor pushed you both forward.

You tried your best to look anywhere then at him, but it was incredibly hard. You did catch him throwing out a few glances a few times, but he would always divert his attention somewhere else when he noticed how uncomfortable you reacted to it.

"Do y-you think we should do what they are doing?" You asked, referring to steps that were just given to follow. Everybody else were figuring out the new footwork, but your partner just stood there as if he wanted to die already.

He simply just ignored you, only looking at what Jungkook and his partner were doing. In which, your cousin was swinging the poor girl around while she tried to slow him down in fear.

God, you wish this was over already.

"So...how did you like it?!" Violet questioned, sitting down on the bed in your old bedroom while you hid under the blankets. "It was fun, huh?"

"You call that fun?" You groaned, sitting up. "I want a new partner."

"What? No way! Yoongi will be hurt you wanted to switch."

"How if he was the one who questioned why we weren't switched in the first place?"

Violet gasped, "He said that?"

Nodding, you wiped some hair away from your face. "He also refused to put his hand on my hip. Is my body too gross for him or what?"

It did hurt your feelings he wouldn't listen to the basic suggestions, but if he didn't want to then there was nothing you could do.

"Maybe it was a respect thing- like to make sure he wasn't crossing any boundaries?"

Thinking about it for a second, she could be right.

"We just don't mix well, he would just ignore me any time I asked questions or spoke up," You sighed. "Please change my partner-"

"-I can't, we already began rehearsals," She cut you off.

"But we only learned basic steps! I can dance with a whole other human being and get it down with them! Please, please-"

"-no-"

"I can tell he despises every minute of this," You whine. "He's not into it and I'm just holding him back! You already know how scary this is to throw myself out there for this dance, at least let me be with someone who seems comfortable with me. It'll make me less anxious."

Your sister gave you a look, taking her time to think hard about this. She wanted you to feel fully comfortable, but it would be so unfair to switch partners the next day after announcing them.

"You know I want you to feel at your best, but the decision has been made and I-"

"If you let me switch I'll clean your room for a year," You rambled.

She rolled her eyes, "nice try, you don't even live nearby!"

"I'll send you money to buy your favorite meals twice a month!"

Violet gave you a stern look. "Y/n, no means no. I-"

"I'll say a speech at your wedding!"

That made her shut up.

This shocked you too because you avoided this topic from the start when she told you she was engaged. You hated talking, better yet- talking in front of people? No way, impossible to do!

"You would never, you can't even order your food without stuttering."

She didn't have to come at you like that..

"I promise!" you begged, jumping in front of her as she rolled her eyes.

Hearing her sigh, you felt weight being lifted off your shoulder. "Fine! You can have Hoseok, he's a quick learner anyway."

Almost making your sister fall off the bed as you tackled her in a hug, you cheered. "Thank you! Thank you! Tha-"

"Shut up already," she scrunched her face, pushing you off harshly. "I'm only doing this because you seem to feel really uncomfortable being near him and my sister instincts are going off."

You nodded quickly, trying to be on your best behavior so she doesn't change her mind.

"It kind of sucks though," she shrugged. "Namjoon and I thought you would be the perfect fit, you two are so alike"

"Being antisocial doesn't automatically mean we'll hit it off."

"Sorry, wouldn't know what that's like," she smiled and stood up from your bed. "I'm gonna go check on mom and the centerpieces, you should text Hobi a heads up for this week."

Once she left the room, you pulled out your phone to text him. You hope you weren't being a total bitch for doing this, but you doubt Yoongi would get offended.

He was the one who suggested it.

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