#just because it ends with two characters getting together

[ohmytyong-recs]

okay...girl grab a cup of coffee and relax because you have an essay to read

for those who haven't read this yet, there are spoilers under the cut

so i started reading this fic probably two weeks ago (?) but i just finished it now. i don't know where to start but i'm gonna begin with how truly gifted you are as a writer. i don't know if it's just me but you manage to create the scenes, the moods, the vibes and the characters i mostly look for when i read any form of literature. and the tone and style of your writing ties everything together, you really embrace all the qualities i love in literature and the ones i try (emphasis on this) to create in the own writings as well.

now to the story. the plot had the perfect mixture of happiness and sadness, the characters you created were both loveable and toxic, the settings and your descriptions really transported me to the story you wanted to tell, as if i was actually there. i am a heavy visual reader (if that's the term i forgot) so everything plays out in my head like a movie. the feeling with this story was heavily amplified. now i don't know if that was an inspiration you drew from, but throughout the whole thing i was getting major "call me by your name" vibes. i don't know if that was your intention, but i kept imagining that little village as crema.

now to the romance part. it truly felt like i was reading a published romance novel. and it truly felt like your characters were actually people, i think i've told you that before but you write such vivid, human characters. the reading process was so bittersweet because you can see their love blooming but you know that they don't get together in the end. now i wouldn't normally comment on the smut scene but this one just worked. its purpose in that particular moment was totally fulfilled, the couple shared one of their most intimate moments together and the way you rendered it did it so much justice.

and now the ending. phew. up until the phone call i was devastated, i mean of course she couldn't wait for him for five years, and the fact that the letters were never delivered created such an intense environment. then the open ending leaves so many things for interpretation, although i choose to think of it as a happy(ish) ending.

BUT THEN i thought waaait a minute. i remember the way you began the story and i went back to reread the preface. and then i became devastated again. because the book was published and it was sent to her and she's crying to the memories of him. so she ended up marrying the other guy so the ending is not happy. (at least that's my interpretation, maybe i'm wrong but don't tell me if i am, i don't wanna find what the author, meaning you, wanted to say with this story but rather i, as the reader, want to find my own meaning through my understanding).

anyway, this isn't goodreads and i let my degree in literature get the best of me. but i needed you to know how your stories make me feel. you put so much thought and effort in your writings, i'm sure of it, and you deserve to know that your words resonate with people. this was a beautiful story.

I remember everything | j.jh

→burnt-out writer!jaehyun x host f!reader

genre: smut, angst, fluff, summer fling, found home, strangers to lovers to strangers again, missed connection, 80's au

synopsis: jaehyun didn’t think meeting you in that quaint lonesome countryside town would come in between him and writing something hopeful and lively in contrast to all of his gloomy work. in fact it was a blessing to have someone help him navigate the foreign country. yet life always has something up its sleeve no matter how soul crushing.

warning(s): ADULTS ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! mentions/implementations of poor mental health, abusive higher ups, mentions of bad parenting, unprotected sex.

wc: 28.5k+ || soundtrack || ao3

© 2024 YOJEONGIN all rights reserved — DO NOT translate, take, nor repost any of my works on other platforms. reblogs are HIGHLY appreciated!

disclaimer: this is purely fictional; in no way am I condoning this behavior, trying to offend anyone, nor is it meant to place such image on the idol, these are ONLY characters. read at your own discretion.

an: summer is gone and I tried posting this for the past 2 months so here is an ode to the place that inspired it all.

The contents of the box had been sitting unwrapped for what felt like an eternity after recalling last week’s events. The miscellaneous items your family sent were a recurring sight but it was rare that Ollie sent you anything besides his letters. 

What disturbed you most is his choice of item. Those bold scripted yellow letters mock you. You weren’t upset with him, you could never be upset with him. You know it’s not his doing, that he was put up to it. What upsets you is the resurfacing thoughts you had hid away in the vault of your memory years ago when you remained naive and to your disgrace revived with one detail.

Courage was the last thing in you. It surged through, more so forcibly, perhaps even masochistically. That seems correct because the second you open to the first page, images you believed you would never see, fly out, reminding you of a life that you can only describe as a daydream.

Every single image had something written in the back of it. You attempt to refrain from reading each note. With no avail, the loops of his handwriting draw you in as much as his piercing gaze and the smile you still dream about – those dimples you can’t forget no matter how much you now look at them on someone else.

There’s a folded letter slotted before the dedication page. It smells like him and you can’t help being transported to the summer you met him. The pleasantly strong cologne you could smell even in the masses of stench when cleaning the pen. Or through the window you two sneaked kisses at night. 

You don’t want to cry, you truly try not to, yet the waterworks flow when you finally focus on the dedication page of this damned book. 

‘To the life I needed all along… I remember everything.’

Jaehyun remembers with fondness the tranquility of what he considers home. The warmth that filled his chest with every waking moment he spent in that beautiful quaint village. And now looking and thinking back at it, that fondness muddles with the pain in his heart. That’s not what he wants nor needs, that’s not what he came here for.

Jaehyun could get behind it, it was nice. He immediately got used to the cool breeze which felt more like a chilly autumn rather than the grueling summer. He could definitely get used to the smell of wood burning from stoves and chimneys that indicated locals began their day. Similar enough to the rough housing from goats and sheep’s bleats to roosters for them to shut up, that the sun was enough of a wake up call. 

Fairly loud, not nearly as much as the city. It was one thing to admire the beauty outside of his temporary residence. Bougainvillea vines, flamboyant and bright, purloining his attention to let him know they were the star of the show, overshadowing any other house around.

Jaehyun needed something and all he knew was that he had to escape the constraints of his overpopulated and 24/7 bustling city that has cursed him to hell multiple times for not giving it a heartfelt ovation. How could he when he’s been shown nothing but hatred from it since he stepped foot in that hell hole?

Things should be different here, he knows that – he’s been shown. 

His taxi driver spoke idly about his day. Describing the breakfast his wife had made before he left. His daughter had visited to drop off their grandson while she went to work at the local market but in the process the kid had fallen down the steep steps claiming all he wanted as comfort was to spend time with his ‘Tito’. So there he was making rocket sounds and hammering the glove compartment with the pale sun-eaten toy car that caused his fall. In the process, turning back to Jaehyun asking if he liked dishes he had never heard of before that the kid didn’t like himself.

Jaehyun remembers it well. 

How can such a beautiful place bring him agony? 

He wanted to stray away from those pessimistic feelings that had shackled him for years, tainting every single one of his pieces. When his publisher and manager told him it would be best to go somewhere he’d know nothing about his world, to have time to think about a new story, he was the first one to say goodbye, muttering under his breath that he wished he’d never see them again. Jaehyun was elated to know he was given a golden ticket out. 

The past few launches and expectations had been hectic. Drowning him with stress and though many would think being a successful writer at such a young age was all fun and games, they'd think otherwise when your team is hollering in your ear daily to come up with new content and critics claiming you’ve yet again failed to provide anything meaningful besides pretentiousness. 

Jaehyun is tired of that dark monotonous and consuming cycle they’re forcing him to be in. So he’s hopeful and excited to see what this beautiful rural village can bring him. Hopeful that it’ll break those shackles of misery that cling to him until his ankles bruise and bleed. Hopeful to find meaning to this life that he’s been searching for. 

Struck with awe throughout his entire trajectory down the cobble and dirt-filled path from midtown to the house, the animal noises he had managed to drown became louder upon pushing open the metal door, growing wary. When he finally crossed the threshold he was met with the image of someone tussling with a ram, enough to get tackled and Jaehyun can only explain that feeling as freight.

That was the first time he met you.

From far away and with his feet grounded in fear, the fear you didn’t have regardless of all those rammings. That must’ve hurt, Jaehyun thinks so. How could it not? The beast came in charging three times, each making the impact seem worse. Twisted horns able to bruise the skin of your thighs.

Every step closer increases his shock. Muffled groans and curses from you mixed with laughter from your grandfather that stood and watched. Neither of you blame him, being the victim of that damn thing at 80 had caused irreparable damage to his hip. There’s nothing he could have done. At best he mangles the rope beside the stake, swinging it in hopes of getting it off you. 

Jaehyun felt inutile. He had no experience with animals nor with any labor besides what his father would drag him into. It’s not his fault he became a writing prodigy. His brute strength was useless if he was too scared to jump into the pen to help you. 

It was more shocking when a scrawny boy in a simple white tee, dusty jeans, heavy work boots just as muddy had pushed through him. Yelling something he couldn’t understand but later found it meant “Get the fuck out the way!” He didn’t mean to be malicious but he was scared himself. Jumping over the pen’s fence and pulling the damned ram off of you, he slaps its rear as a form of discipline. It amazes Jaehyun how effortless he made it look.

Finally free and things having calmed down, Jaehyun saw the elderly man seize his laughter. Genuine tears slip from his eyes. He was scared, truly scared it could have been your end. Having experienced it himself, he couldn’t help both sympathize and feel guilty. You and the kid reassured him it was fine. It wasn’t a first but your grandpa wouldn’t hear it, sighing as he continued to sob. 

Jaehyun later found that he was insanely sensible. Laughing things off to calm himself to eventually break down.

In attempts to ease his pain, you had sent the young boy to fetch your grandpa a coke and some bread. 

Nowadays, Jaehyun consumes those items whenever he grows scared 

Making your way with a limp that your grandfather mimicked due to his own attack and age, Jaehyun finally approaches you both, voice slightly quivering.

“Are you alright?!” Jaehyun quips, your head turns to him un-amusedly. Cautious but relaxed for whoever’s sake. “Yeah… it’s not the first time.” You try to smile at the stranger who is obviously not from the village inside the premise of your grandparent’s home. It only dawned upon you who he was when you noticed the pristine suitcases in his hands. Holding the handles like a lost victorian count in search of a new start in the bustling dirty city – despite the contrast.

“You’re the new tenant, right?” You ask, limp finally gone after something cracked. Jaehyun winces, amused with the nonchalant tone in your voice; he nods fervently. “Yeah, um, I can pay for a few months up front if you don’t mind.” Neither of you had noticed that both had stopped walking, your grandpa already in the house, leaving you to speak with the young and attractive man before you.

“Months?”

Jaehyun nods. “If you don’t mind or have another tenant.” He feels sheepish; confident in your eyes. “Don’t worry, it’s been open for months.” 

It’s amazing to him how you’re acting like you didn’t almost need a ride to the nearest hospital. Seeing the limp gone and crouching down to pick up a bucket full of dry corn kernels like nothing. He could have believed everything he saw didn’t really happen. 

It’s recurring if he thinks back to it, how everything felt so fleeting and surreal. He despises and feels it mocking him daily.

Following you around like a lost puppy while you sprinkled the ground with those kernels, he took note of the expression on your face. You’re still in pain, it’s written all over the movements you make. He rules you’re ignoring it to not seem ill before him or specifically to reassure your grandfather. 

Jaehyun has a strong image in your eyes. It would crumble with just about anything and you felt comfortable figuring that out. Just like it has done now, with chickens rushing and flooding the area to gobble down their meal. Jaehyun was startled and scared they’d peck him in the process. 

You try not to laugh despite the giggles leaving in spurts. Nearing the kitchen door, you stop in your tracks to look at him. “Don't worry about the pay, it won't be necessary.” It troubles him and this time he won’t hold his thoughts. Well, he wasn’t going to but as soon as his lips parted, the sprint door opened, showing a much shorter and pudgier older woman. He reckons that’s your grandmother so he smiles and greets her accordingly. 

She accepts it, returning the favor before going back to business in handing you the bowl full of pepper seeds and stems to feed the chickens. That left him and your grandmother alone, inviting him to the kitchen.

He studied the kitchen upon crossing the threshold, admiring the huge chimney in the right corner, soot covered it along the boiling metal bucket of water. There was a chair in front of it, one of those school chairs that cling onto your hair until it’s off your scalp. 

A metal cabinet in between the entrance door and the hallway. It’s dusty, showcasing fine china that was never used. He found the cracks above the very tall ceilings the most enchanting, all leading to portraits above the hallway’s threshold. Trajectory and lineage demonstrated through the years. Most recently: one of you with your diploma. 

Beautiful. Utterly beautiful, he thought.

“Come, I’ll show you around.” 

The tour was simple, the hallway that connected the main room and kitchen was a room in itself. Privacy wasn’t really an option within these walls but it didn’t matter, he wasn’t the one sleeping in the main house.

All he had to know about this house was that it was an old canteen that your grandmother’s father bought for her as a wedding gift. The hallway had a bed your grandfather slept on, a couch he sat to watch the TV propped on top of a dresser in the main room –where he’d join him often– and a door that led to the guest’s area.

Despite the open concept, she didn’t show him the room where you and her slept in. He caught a glimpse of a door to the only restroom in there –restroom with a window he would spend his nights at often–, a vanity you both filled with expired products, and two beds on opposite sides. He figures the one with a pristine Garfield plush was yours. 

Jaehyun felt the clarity of finding home within these few minutes. It was summer and the house was freezing without a clunky AC unit, he was in heaven if you asked him. It felt cozy and he liked that it wasn’t stuffy like his apartment back home, it felt like love. Cold, unspoken care and love.

The tour ended by the time both reached the guest area. The door was open after you swept but things never lasted clean here, the entrance full of dust again. Your grandmother looked tired and apologetic that she couldn’t continue, reassuring him his room was fine, warranting her to yell your name and rushing to her side.

She asks you to show him, motioning for him to follow you with your head. It felt like a full circle when you both hopped down the step from the house to the courtyard. He looked at the threshold he entered through, the door was closed now, decorated with flowers made out of dust, crafted by Ollie when he had free time. Your grandfather sat on a chair near the pen with the young man, eating his bread and smoking a cigarette that he pretends to hide. 

Following you, Jaehyun took notice of the mountain of rocks and flowers near his room. A monument to a holy being he had only seen a few times. It was beautiful, vibrant flowers in comparison to the rocks. Some cactus and critters roam on small trinkets and a river flows up and down each rock.

Jaehyun finds himself behind a wall of jacarandas which cover the entrance to his room. The door unlocks with a screech, Jaehyun, hopeful it was just as inviting as the home only to be shortly disappointed when it felt warm inside and the walls maintained a darker hue. It was newly made, it lacks love.

Sensing his hesitance, your voice aims to distract him. “It’s not much, the bed is new if you must know. My uncle should bring in the TV but in the meantime you have free reign to the boombox or the kitchen’s.” Apologetic smile decorating your face. “You can open the window if it gets hot, Ollie is fixing up the fan. Feel free to go into the house, we don’t mind.” You hope that will help his decision, you’d hate to see him leave.

He wants to thank you with the words stuck in his throat, something you noticed well enough that intensified the feeling that clogged your own. “Um, yeah… New bed, the lamp and main light work, window opens, and you have your own personal bathroom. Unfortunately, the boiler is still very old fashioned so you will have to warm it or boil some water in the chimney to shower.” You hope that repeating yourself will convince him, restraining yourself from begging.

It has its flaws but he has decided not to care. “I’ll take it. It’s still $130 for the month, right?” He smiles boyishly, putting down his suitcases. It gives you a sense of tenderness and relief. You want to sigh and smile, giggle with appreciation. “Don’t worry about that, the room is yours.” You hand him the key, that’s the best you can manage.

His lip slightly juts out and eyebrows furrow with your words. “What do you mean by that? Please, I insist.” He turns to you, taking a step closer, forcing you to bite the inside of your lower lip. “I can double it if you prefer.” He pleads, head tilting to the side with wide eyes. It’s not intentional, he’s unaware of the effects he has on people. He’s scared you’re tricking him to not keep the room, to give it to someone else. Almost like you aren’t finding his presence enjoyable. If only he knew how much you would love for him to stay. 

“It’s not that, trust me.” You walk towards the door, avoidingly. “It’s nice to not be alone. To have someone else around.” Your eyes don’t meet his, he understands. Letting it go, he thanks you in a whisper. “By any chance can I use your phone?” He asks in attempts to change the atmosphere. 

Apologies fill your eyes like previous conversations. “It’s off until Monday.” It’s Wednesday. 

“There’s a little store a block or two from here, not far at all. You can leave from either side, it’s flamboyantly yellow so you won’t miss it.” His excursion to find this place alone will say otherwise. “The name is painted on with neon green, ‘Gaby’s’ it’s called.” You laugh, looking at the expression on his face. He thanks you and follows behind the exit of the room, parting ways. 

Despite the rundown homes and slight deterioration here and there, Jaehyun liked the tranquility and uncertainty in pertinence to the weather. One second he is granted with the warmth of vitamin D, the other he is threatened with the smell of wet dogs. This town had it all, yet none of it interfered with the breeze that calmed him as his hair waltzed around, singing in his ear that he was in the right hands, finally at ease. 

You were right about not missing the store. He can laugh now – he did when taking the final corner, being met with what he felt was covered in buckets of highlighter ink. It was almost comical how opposite the owner was from her lively store and home.

“Good morning.” He mutters, “What are your rates for long distance calls?” She looks at him, pulling out a booklet from the phone company, arms working like it’s a chore. 

“How far?” “Overseas.”

She looks at him through lashes, sighing, flipping another page. 

“$3.56 per minute.”

Jaehyun’s eyes bulge out, nodding frighteningly. The process goes accordingly: she hands him the phone, writes down his name and the location before looking at him to dial on that old dinky home phone. The wires are sticky from tape residue with some edges popping out. It was her mother’s from 1957 but she loves it more than her third born.

He rotates the wheel, hanging up one or three times until he finally gets it. When the other line finally picks up, she starts a timer. “It’ll be quick.” He mentions. “Take your time.” She smiles.

“Hello? Hellooo~.” The voice on the other line calls out, ready to hang up, a pair of blondes far more important than this are waiting for him. “Hyunjoo?” Jaehyun asks, hand clasping the bottom of the phone. “Yeah? Who is this?” His words sound slurred, not enough to call him drunk.

“It’s Jaehyun.”

An eruption of laughter and greetings is heard in the background, smiling at how welcoming it felt, although strange. “Jaehyunie! How are you finding it there? Fun?… You know when Jude showed me the pictures I thought you were crazy for choosing that… place! Do you think you can hold out long?!” He laughs diminishingly, Jaehyun’s smile falters, his heart aching as it usually does when it comes to Hyunjoo. 

He clears his throat, standing straight. “It’s great, I really like it so far and I’ve only seen the house.” He musters a laugh. “Listen, long-distance calls are expensive so I think we should only communicate through letters, okay? I just wanted to call to let you know I was fine.” He’s ready to end the conversation here. It didn’t start how he wanted it and a reminder of his actuality is not what he wants.

“No… no, now wait a minute!” It wasn’t Hyunjoo on the line anymore but Jude, his manager who was far more sober than his publisher. Some tussling and grunting here and there on the other line, Jaehyun sighs looking at how quickly he was pushing three minutes already. 

Eventually Jude got through, scolding the drunkard. “Now what do you mean you won’t call? Don’t be dumb, I need to hear from you!” He bites onto his cigarette, scolding Jaehyun like a small kid, like the child he pretends is his. “It’s too much, Jude. Plus, the house doesn’t have a phone right now so you can’t reach me.” His foot bounces, scoffing like a petulant child proclaiming independence from their family. 

Jude went on a tirade about how it wasn’t good for Jaehyun to go cold on them but the younger one wasn’t hearing it. The entire premise of this trip was to forget about them all so why won’t they let him? “Okay too much time, too much money, bye!” Jaehyun cuts the conversation short, giggling as the yelling got louder. Seizing when the timer hits six minutes and thirty-seven seconds. 

“$24.92.” A wide smile decorates the owner’s rotund face, sticking her hand out. Nothing left but to sigh and hand her the money. 

Jaehyun takes this opportunity to explore the village, mesmerized by the intricacies of carved ornate decorations onto walls and doors. In awe with the obvious distinctions between newly built homes and colonial ones he found far more attractive. Architecture was not his only interest, not when the mocking tango of scent swirls drag him to the plaza. Taunting him with delectable treats and meals at every corner and hall.

If he wanted to fall further in love, then the market currently taking place should do. Colorful carps and music from corner to corner, swaying him through the fabric made halls. Jingles of welcomings and hollering flood the ears of every passerby. Whether he wanted fresh produce, flavored shaved ice, fruit cocktails, clothes, or even toys, Jaehyun could find it all. It reminded him of the swap meet he encountered with his friends once when living in Connecticut years ago. This was surely far more inviting and lively. 

Through his trail around the halls, Jaehyun came to a halt upon seeing you standing before your grandfather on the bench your grandmother’s family had donated. Worry filled your face but the older man’s laughter was far more deafening and comforting. An internal warmth forces your head to turn, spotting him immediately for your eyes to meet.

“Need help?” Jaehyun offers embarrassedly, you deny. Your grandfather is receptive despite your light scolding. “It’s fine, really.” You try but both men insist. “Do you know how to repair cars?” Your grandfather asks, Jaehyun shakes his head apologetically, all which prompts your grandpa to huff and shake his own head.

“The car broke down.” He’s met with another of your apologetic smiles, as if he’s the one being wronged and not you and your grandfather. “I’m just going to finish off the shopping, mind giving him an eye?” You ask Jaehyun, the first favor to be exact and he couldn't be more elated to not feel useless.

It’s shut down by the older of the three, complaining and almost throwing a tantrum over how he didn’t need a babysitter. It wasn’t completely wrong, the entire village knew him so watchful eyes were all around, it’s not like you couldn’t trust him to be on his own. “No, no. Matter of fact, help her with the bags. Go on, look at how heavy they are.” He scolds Jaehyun, throwing away any unfamiliarity out the window. That’s one thing about him, he’s too trusting. 

Like a child in between parents having an argument, Jaehyun didn’t know who to listen to. Fortunately you give up and sigh, motioning with your head for him to follow you. He took a handful of bags from your hand, some left in the care of your grandfather that was well situated on the bench.

He gave you both his blessing, shooing you off to embark in an awkwardly silent walk with nothing but the blaring music vendors played to fill that emptiness. He had so much he wanted to ask, to say, to know what you could teach him about the village or if you knew how he could travel to neighboring ones. He was giddish and that’s all that took for you to turn to him with a smile.

“Quite a bad host, aren’t I? I didn’t even introduce myself.” You giggle, stopping at a stand. “It’s okay, I didn’t either, I’m sorry. I’m Jaehyun.” 

“Y/n,” You give him a quick glance, taking a bag from a vendor. “What are you doing here, anyways? No one comes here for pleasure.” Jaehyun could tell more words hung on the tip of your tongue, ones you swallow down. He didn’t know how to answer. If someone else asked him, he’d mention how he wanted some inspiration, to see what he could bring into fruition but with you his sincere words threatened to spill. 

How could he mutter: “I think I hate my life and those in it, so my manager and publisher shipped me off somewhere I’d be far from that world. I think they just wanted to get rid of me but it’s what I wanted all along…”

“Oh?”

Shit. Just like that. 

“I-I… I didn’t mean to say that.” He scolds himself. This had never happened before, what the hell was that?! Your laughter doesn’t help and he’s scared you’re laughing at his problems. He doesn’t want to believe someone like you could be this cruel.

“It’s okay.” 

That’s not reassuring. “It’s okay. I hated where I was a year ago too, so I was also shipped here.” That’s comforting– somewhat. 

Your shoulders shimmy as you pay for the produce, walking towards another stand. “Granted, my aunt got sick. She was my grandparents' caretaker but it was getting worse and I took the role.” From the depths of your pocket, you pull out some pumpkin seeds, handing him a few for him to crack, not counting with the coating of salt to scald his tongue. 

“She comes back here and there to check in and help but eventually she has to go back for constant checkups. I hadn’t found a job right out of college so this was my next best option and I like it – far more so, I think.” A sincere smile adorns your face; this was comforting.

Things went far more smoothly after that introduction. He told you about his books and what he wanted to do here. He told you about how miserable he felt and how abusive the city seemed to be towards him. You told him that you missed your city but the reality of facing adulthood in the area was weighing down on you. He figured this was your reality escape and although grim on your end, he felt ecstatic for himself. He felt like he finally found exactly what he needed.

The conversation went well with a few laughs here and there until reaching full circle with cups of shaved ice in a bag to take home and yours in hand. Bliss was momentarily gone when you reached the bench and didn’t spot your grandfather. Regardless, it didn’t take long for a seller to let you know his nephew gave him a ride. 

These instances made Jaehyun appreciate your gentleness for your grandparents. Although aware of how you try to hide your emotions from him, the guard falls when it comes to them. It’s admirable.

Noise didn’t break the bubble of silence you remained in until entering the kitchen where your grandfather was sitting at a table already, your grandmother making his coffee while Ollie tired and sweaty relaxed by the door, munching on a candybar he bought when getting the fright remedy. A token of appreciation from your grandfather for the cigarette.

“We didn’t see you, I almost had a heart attack.” You mock reprimand, a smile setting on your face seeing the older man safe and sound. No matter how hard you try to act angry, seeing him eat the rest of his bread while waiting for lunch calms you down. “I’m the old one here, save the ailments for another sixty years.” he cackles, Jaehyun beginning to find comfort in your grandfather’s ability to find humor in anything.

“I think our guest might want out already.” He teases, sneaking a piece from Ollie’s candy. The boy doesn’t protest, doing the same with the shaved ice you brought. Jaehyun felt his ears warm up, nervously denying it with no avail as your grandpa kept insisting with that same laugh. Dying when your grandma scolds him to leave Jaehyun alone.

Jaehyun giggles quietly, shaking his head. “Please believe me. I think it’s beautiful so far.” Your grandma hums, the one to speak is Ollie. “There’s nothing here. What’s beautiful about it?” He shrugs with a scowl. “He hasn’t seen the other towns, give it time, Ol.” You intervene, forcing him to taste test the rice.  

“Well, what if you and Ollie, whenever he can, show…”

“Jaehyun.” You help your grandmother, playfully glaring at the young boy for feedback on the dish. The elderly give each other a quick glance while Ollie makes a mocking thumbs down when he knows the smile on his face says otherwise.

She nods, scooping a spoonful of lard into the pan. “Why don’t you and Ollie show Jaehyun around after your duties. I doubt he wants to stay all hours here.” Jaehyun doesn’t know how to feel. He’s embarrassed, he’s also bashful and feels imposing. “It’s okay, I can manage. I don’t want to overstep.” He nervously chuckles, ears brightening.

“Okay.” You shut him up. He turns to you, silence deafening yet comforting, even when you finally lift your head to look at him, nodding. “It’s okay, just let us know what you want to see.” You’re much calmer than he is, it causes his body to tense despite being thankful with how inviting you are. How inviting you all are, he thinks he can see himself here for longer.

“Thank you.” He meets your eyes with a smile, thankful and glad. It’s reciprocated, knocking down the nonchalant act.

The first outings don’t go past the premises of the village. With planting being the main priority, neither you or Ollie have time to take him anywhere. The younger spent his days working the tractor, taking your grandfather up and down as his mentor despite his own father being there. 

Jaehyun tried to help once but was booted by both men and their laughter. He won’t fault them, he almost ruined a row of freshly planted beans and if he was to learn anything throughout this trip, he’d learn that any grain and imperfection was important enough to ruin the entire harvest. Instead he was left to pavement clearing, making sure no rocks or debris got in the way of vehicles.

The following week he had been left to his vices at home. You had apologetically told him they found assistance and he should enjoy his trip at home. Although there was nothing left to do, not for him at least. Your grandmother wouldn’t let him lift a finger in the kitchen and she didn’t like his cleaning style, leaving it to you if she was busy. 

Ollie had fixed the fan by now. The new motor made the room freeze, mimicking the room temperature of the home. Cold enough that Jaehyun preferred to leave the window open despite the crawlers that woke him at night. Now he contemplates whether he should turn the fan on or sleep with cotton filled eardrums. 

Jaehyun lays in bed, bored and antsy for something to do. The sound of your arguing with animals overpower the boombox next to his head, melodies he didn’t understand.

The fountain pen on his hand never felt far heavier, a sign that he had nothing new to produce. No, the only thing his hand mustered to write was the noises you made. Whatever pertains to you.

“Tutt-tutt.” “Cluth-cluth… No, Constance! Don’t peck me!” “Behhh, behhh! Here, what a cry baby.”

Jaehyun found joy through you and your acts of love.

“Meow, meow, meow! I can do that too! I already fed you, Fina! Gluttony is a sin, you know.”

Days went on like this, it’s repetitious but he doesn’t complain. Past times he’d think what he’s doing now was all he wanted but a mind never rests and his body is antsy for new experiences. He no longer wants to lie and feel the breeze rush through the window to coddle him, forcing the sheer white curtains to dance around for his attention.

Jaehyun tucks away his journal, buttoning up his shirt and slipping on the work boots he bought with only four days here. Full of glee and excitement he bought them to help your grandfather. He reckoned if he was going to get down and dirty then he should be dressed accordingly. 

With pep to his step, Jaehyun makes a beeline towards the pen. What used to be barking of unfamiliarity turned to a simple bark for attention, received with wagging tails. He made sure to pat their heads until reaching the fence, looking at you conversing with Camila, the donkey. 

“Aha and what else did he do?... No! You should’ve kicked him straight in the leg, Cami. He can’t talk to you like that!.” You nod and hum at her playfully, received with brays and nods. Jaehyun doesn’t know what you’re talking about but he’s glad that you’re having fun.

New hay had been brought in the morning, far more greener and fresh which left the old hay to be moved around for maintenance. In the process of such, strays found themselves near the dogs, enough to crunch under his step. Like a deer caught in headlights, Jaehyun stops, ears reddening by the whip of your head and Camila’s blaring bray.

“Hi…” He mutters timidly, cause of your smile. “Hi.” You reciprocate with the softest welcoming. He takes the initiative to approach you, standing a few feet behind. Neither say anything, amused with Camila’s treacherous ways in leaving you to gain his attention. Head bumping onto his hand to mimic the pats he left on the dogs.

Pleased she throws a kick, sending old hay flying towards the lambs and goats that reproach her action. You share a giggle, forcing you two to give each other a quick glance. “I think she likes you.” You mention, “I like her too.” He replies, petting her ears, as red as his. “Well don’t feed her ego, now. It’s already through the roof.” You teasingly scoff, another airy laugh leaves him. 

“Don’t be harsh, I think she needs it. I mean, I don’t know what you two were talking about just now but it seems like she needed her confidence there.” He smiles at you, taking her face into both hands. Your groan makes him wink at Camila, thankful that he’s found something to converse with you. “Her and Ollie–” Camila brays, removing Jaehyun’s touch from her.  “They have such an intense hate-love relationship that his name throws her off, so I’m giving her advice on how to deal with it. Right, Mila?” Understandingly, she nods, seeking your attention again.

“Granted it’s all made up, she’s a little jealous but with you here I think Ollie should take the role.” She brays again, aiming to bite your hand. You get away just in time, sticking your tongue out at her. Jaehyun receives the image with laughter, his chest filled with joy.

He shakes his head, petting hers to calm her down. “No, I don’t want to be responsible for their failure.” You nod, picking up a metal rake. “Mind if I help you? It’s getting boring there…” He’s ashamed to admit it. You sympathize with him, after all when you used to visit you often fell in his shoes.

“Alright, a heads up, this will be messy work.” He nods obediently, eyes shimmering with their natural gloss and the sun’s reflection. 

Darn him and his cuteness! 

Blinking the thought away you hand him a broom and the rake. “Here, hold these while I tie up this  maniac.” Your eyes squint meeting those of the ram that tackled you when he arrived. His own mimicking yours, it was on and he knew it. 

With rope in your hand, test swings approaching the pen’s door, the beast starts to test the waters. Three…two…one! What ensues is a battle between both, Jaehyun trying his best to help. He envisioned that this rivalry is what Ollie and Camila had, he’d witness it a few days prior. The only exception that you and Whitey hated each other to the core. He never knew why. 

After a few falls and tugs here and there, you two managed to get him in the isolation pen. Scoffing and laughing as he settles on newly clean hay. While he relaxes, you both huff and hold onto the fence, wiping away any remnants of sweat. “Ready to work?” You question, Jaehyun felt like this was enough. Unfortunately it’s only the beginning.

With free and safe reign to go inside the pen, you lay out the map of where to go and be careful. The wall to the neighbors cooped the chickens. It was the time they laid eggs so cleaning it would be held off until a few days later. On the opposite side to the street, roosters had their own coups. 

“All you have to do is separate the poop from the hay, that’s what the rake is for.” Jaehyun figured you felt apologetic for the task as the look you gave him when presenting the room manifested itself onto your face. If you only knew that he’d never say no to you.

He mutters an ‘alright’ with his brilliant smile, reassuringly. “While you do that,” you watch him struggle, “I’ll clean this one.” Your voice slowed, concentrated on how to maneuver. You referred to the pen around a large cactus. He didn’t give it much thought when you went in, he also felt it wouldn’t be that hard, the livestock discard balls for goodness sake.

He had the confidence that died along the way he swept and raked. For small balls they were pungent and he wasn’t handling it well, the uncovered smell of piss added to it. You try not to laugh when he gagged or turned around so you wouldn’t see him cover his face but it was becoming hard.

Endearing is the word you’re thinking of, even when he perceives it as mockery that his face falls into a pout when he hears your laughter. “Please don’t laugh at me.” He practically begs, head lifting for a waft of fresh air before pushing old disgusting hay into a trash bag.

“I’m sorry,” A laugh escapes. “It’s good I’m the one here, I wouldn’t doubt Ollie tormenting you if it was him here.” Jaehyun agrees, the difference being that he wouldn’t care for Ollie's ridicule, he’d play along and try his best to improve. He cares for your opinion which is far different. 

“He did enough during harvest.”  “I heard.”

Silence befalls as you continue, the sun seems to have hidden behind clouds for the time being. 

“I’m sorry you’re not having a good time.” You broke the peace, his ears perking at the condolence lacing your voice. “I know you wanted an escape and I’m sorry I haven’t been of much help.” He couldn’t believe his ears. Why are you blaming yourself for something that should only matter to him? He has free will and range to get up and take the next taxi or bus to neighboring towns. You shouldn’t blame yourself for his decisions.

Escapism might not have come to him in the way intended but everyday has become a new experience for him. “Don’t… I promise that even picking up droppings is something new for me.” He rebuttals your claim, mirroring the same apologetic look you give him. “Y/n… I’ve been coddled all my life, this entire experience has been a new step for me and I feel like Bambi, positively.” He smiles, widely enough that it’s the first time you notice his deep dimples.

You sigh, unsure if it’s from relief, pash, or in between. 

“Yeah, okay… I was in your shoes too when I began to stay as a caretaker. I’ve done all of this when I would visit but it was not as intense as it is now. I don’t mind, I’m here to help. I have to.” It sounds melancholic and he’s not sure how to interpret it.

Avoiding it you look around to see he’s done a good job. You’re actually very well impressed, the words that were meant to leave your mouth surely were appreciative but they’re shoved back down your throat when you attempt to stand up. It’s almost like his presence dumbifies you. Like you forget the world around you, manifesting itself in your careless and clueless actions like resting your open hand on a cactus while trying to stand up just to bring him comforting words. 

Instead he’s met with your yelp as you prick your hand, head, and shoulder in the process of standing and tumbling down. Whitey’s karma has served you, he bleats mockingly when you keep on hurting yourself within the premise of his home. 

Instinctively Jaehyun rushes to you, concerned and scared of what this could illicit. He isn’t safe of Whitey’s wrath, not when he helped you and has decreed the young brunette is of your interest. Rushing to your aid, Jaehyun doesn’t count on one of the sheep to leave her droppings on the path he’s taking. Fresh and new, it wasn’t difficult for Jaehyun to find himself slipping straight into the cactus that has served your own aches.

They say laughter is the best medicine. Both you and Jaehyun attempt it when your eyes meet but the throbbing is far more intense that you synchronize in wailing. Loud and tuneless, enough to drag out your grandmother from the kitchen and force laughter out of Ollie and your grandfather who were arriving from their daily duties.

Camila doesn’t stay too behind in her own laughter. You fear all the livestock was against you two or perhaps rooting for you in the most vicious way. It’s rotten to know this is the start of your shared misery and ache.

The accident had forced your grandparents to make it up to you both the following day. Early in the morning your grandfather drove you all to a neighboring town. Ollie groggily dragged himself out of his home despite his father’s complaints that he was being a burden. You reassured him he was always welcomed, your grandfather scolded his dad. Yelling at him to stop trying to force ideas in the boy’s head. 

Jaehyun had taken in the scenery on his taxi drive although he’s convinced something is different this time. Aside from your grandfather teasing everyone when driving along the edge of the mountains, Ollie clinging to you ready to cry as if he didn’t surpass all of you in height.

It takes roughly an hour and a half to arrive at the destination and almost another to find parking they eventually found was free and available behind a cathedral. Everyone laughs at each other for missing it when minutes prior your grandfather was ready to turn the car around, hangry and annoyed at how this damn town was overcrowded with no parking spots.

For once he felt like an actual tourist, visiting the restaurant you all loved and gorging himself with the most delicious meal he’s ever tasted in his life – besides his mother’s cooking, of course! For reassurance, she will witness how happy he looked while eating through the picture you managed to snap of him.

After the meal, your grandparents attempted to walk for digestion but age made them give up as soon as you all reached the town’s plaza. It wasn’t a rare occurrence, you saw no problem with it, they’re together. All they asked was to bring them those donuts they loved dearly and a soda to share. Ollie took it in his hands to beat you to it. Now there you and Jaehyun stood looking at the elderly couple sat before you.

At the time it didn’t feel like a scheme but looking back at it, Jaehyun is sure you figured it out as well. 

Despite the accident, you both went back to the timidness that sheltered you both. Stolen glances and polite smiles when caught, stopping here and there to take pictures of the architecture and culture. He wouldn’t tell you, but a good portion were candids of you. You look so pretty that he could not avoid capturing the only remnants of you he could keep. 

Both try small talk, history pointers whenever reaching old buildings – most consisted of luring him away from hustlers. You’d laugh after every successful attempt and reward yourself with street snacks that he’d find too salty or too sweet, still delicious enough to risk getting scolded by his physician if it meant enjoying the wonders of life.

The day might have ended with shy conversations and laughs but both could testify that comfort is what surrounded you most. On his end he felt safe and secure, comfortable enough to laugh at anything you said because in whatever way he looked at it, your presence forced glee onto him. Warmth and comfort is what you would best describe it as and that’s what you have learnt care feels like.

Your grandmother began going easy on you after the accident and outing. You felt like a teenager visiting your grandparents again with how little she left for you to do and how she forced you to go out more often. Encouraging you to enjoy your summer as well while showing Jaehyun around.

Jaehyun is sure this was her way to make both of you appreciate the limited shared time. He’s thankful enough for it but bitter towards himself for losing some weeks at the start.

You began showing him around other towns. On times you went grocery shopping and he’d beat you to paying for it (his form of appreciation), he’d throw in a peach or two. His favorite, you figured. 

At the neighboring market, he’d buy fridge magnets, five for the price of a large one. All which represented his favorite snacks he’s consumed during these days. You still remember teasing him for buying a mini replica magnet of a beer bottle. Later at home while rocking on a chair he showed you a layout of how he’d arrange them on his fridge. In the meantime, you helped him decorate the door to his room, enjoying the air the fan blew at both.

When it rained, Ollie forced both to dance under the cold drops. Enjoy life as you should, he justified. At night, he’d dragged you both to the night market. Showing Jaehyun his favorite drinks and laugh when you scold him for drinking like an old man with kidney issues. He would joke about you and Jaehyun being his parents and would even grab your hands to skip in between both when it was so easy for him to drag you down. Damn him and his tall genes.

He’d drag the joke far enough to reach home where your grandparents never missed the opportunity to throw in a “Take your brat with you.” whenever Ollie was available and you were to show Jaehyun around. Neither of you minded, Ollie was silent enough to let you two bask in each other’s presence and playful enough for you two to feel at ease and content. 

In another universe, this would reign true and not a fragment of a life you’re all creating that was never to bloom.

After three months the festivities had reached your village and vendors from all around the country settled by the plaza. Intrigued at first and fascinated by what they sold, poor Jaehyun fell victim to one of the home goods sellers. Spending a large amount buying your grandmother some pots, pans, a set of dishes, and stools as a token of appreciation. He went overboard but was happy to help, blinded by the cheap prices. Jaehyun should’ve known something was off, he knows you would have talked him out of it but you had been arguing with another vendor that they took advantage of the painfully obvious foreigner in the meantime.

When arriving home and seeing he had been robbed, you got ready to argue and force them to give him his money back. He protested despite being defeated and sad he was swindled. He convinced you but not your grandparents and Ollie. The three had taken matters into their own hands while you two fetched salt blocks to replace in the pen. By the time you got back, Ollie’s hair was far more ruffled than usual and his face red while your grandfather laughed, taking a sip of his beer, clanking it with your grandmother’s. On the kitchen bar, Jaehyun’s money was laid out. Every single cent and interest returned to him, money he used to invite all to dinner and dessert with a gift of their choice.

Ollie wore his tonight. Gleefully trotting through the threshold of the gate, careful to not scuff the boots Jaehyun gladly bought while singing to gain attention. Jaehyun laid on bed, scribbling his thoughts on his days, one-liners here and there and far more of the noises you’ve made. In addition the lyrics to the song Ollie sang before your grandmother told him to stop before he ate a fly.

Fireworks had been going off all day and neighbor’s music loudened with their gates open. This wasn’t new but it seemed to be far more intense today out of all days. “Why aren’t you ready? You’re not going to the fair?” Ollie questions, out of breath and frantic to see your grandparents sitting on their chairs enjoying today’s weather with a cup of soda in one hand and pastries in the other. 

Talks about a fair had not gone in deaf ears throughout the past three weeks but Jaehyun paid it no mind when he saw that no one else seemed concerned – besides Ollie. It seemed to be a big thing when he noticed more carps, games, and rides fully covering the plaza.

“Don’t think we will be going, Ol. Their knees hurt.” Your voice manifests itself, forcing Jaehyun to sit up and put away his journal. You had been doing some chores outside his room. Hanging laundry and watering the plants, the product of everything he’s written and attempted to draw today.

He follows outside, Ollie greets him, a mischievous smile on his lips forming an idea. “Why not? I’ll drive if you want! Do it for Jaehyun, he’s never going to experience this again.”

Ollie’s childish intuition strikes again, this time in the form of a gash against both of your chests. 

You both knew it was true but reality is what Jaehyun wanted to escape and you had made sure to enable him. It just so happens that you have fallen victim to it as well.

No matter, he said he wanted to stay months so it should still be far along in the future. You think so… you implore.

Perceptive is a word to describe your grandparents. Despite their ache they figure it is not as big as the one brewing in the depths of your conscious and heart. As best as they can, they agree with the younglin and head inside to get ready.

Ollie is ecstatic, he’s always been a fan of these things but now that he was of age, he could enjoy it more with a drink or two. Not to mention things like these are grounds for finding partners and like any town boy who hasn’t found one, he’s looking forward to it. That’s what he tells you and Jaehyun at least but he knows he’ll spend his night looking after your grandparents, far more giddy about you two together.

He had been smart enough to put cinder blocks early in the morning in a parking spot front and center from the fair, forcing Jaehyun out of the car to move and put them behind the car once he parked so no one would block them. Perfect was his plan that once everyone got out of the car, his friends that occupied a bench scattered like roaches to give their seat to your grandparents. Both elders find it comical seeing right through Ollie. 

Arriving just in time for the parade, all queen candidates drove around in their elaborately decorated transportation. Colors flying around similar to their presentation favors, many which ended up hitting both Jaehyun and Ollie in the head. The older of the two made sure to take pictures of it while Ollie complained, claiming he was glad he didn’t vote for whoever hit him. The new reigning queen didn’t appear until the end. It was far more of a social economic competition. Whoever paid more won therefore it wasn’t surprising when a queen from years prior won again.

“You should’ve signed up, you would’ve won, Y/n.” Ollie elbows you, received with an eye roll. “Right, Jaehyun?” That devious brat, always finding a way to make you miserable. You try not to turn to Jaehyun, yet his gaze is so intense that it forces you to do so slowly. His face, decorated with that usually wide smile that emphasized his dimples, eyes squinting in glee when yours finally meet his. Candidness and benevolence lacing his voice.

“Yes, you would have won, Y/n.” 

That was enough footing for Ollie to shoo both of you away, promising to take care of your grandparents while you had fun. Your attempts at protest are futile, your grandparents helping Ollie in his mission. Buying the three something to eat in the process before parting ways, promising it’ll be fast.

It’s not fast, it’s a brisk walk that both you and Jaehyun enjoy. Struggling to not lose each other within the masses going opposite or in the same direction. He jokes about feeling like a meerkat in a sea of gazelles, you laugh but he’s sure you don’t find it funny. At least he’s glad you humor him.

You entertain him through food. Buying tornado potatoes, plain and simple. He mentions having eaten these when he lived in Connecticut. You ask him about the state and what it’s like, you’re not too thrilled nor believe him when he says it’s boring. As an attempt to remove the connection, you drizzle hot sauce on one half of the potatoes. Scared but willing to try it, Jaehyun lets you feed him the first broken off bit. It’s enjoyable at first, soon his face blends with the lights behind him. Red and bright as he begins to cough. Now he will only think of this when it comes to the snack.

You both laugh at it, as an apology you buy him a drink. A piña colada for him and a michelada for you, it should work enough to ease both of your bashfulness. He couldn’t eat anything from the drizzled side, leaving those for you whilst he munched on the dry. Giving you sips here and there from his drink to cool down the fire in your mouth. He teases you for choosing a spicy drink when you’re eating far more spice, receiving him with an eye roll and “You don’t know what life is about.”

Finishing that, he dragged you to a game. You’d like to think he found it far more odd because of the mini stripper animatronics in the center of all the glass bottles but he reassures you the life-size gremlin doll pissing on people was more alluring – and disturbing. It didn’t stop him from attempting to win a decrepit pale Winnie the Pooh bear.

He had spent a good amount of time trying for it, towards the end he required your help. You had been nagging him throughout the entire game to not spend more money on the game, that it was most likely rigged but when it was your turn and managed to burst all bottles, then it became a skill issue. 

Jaehyun mopped about it, you figured the bear would bring him comfort. He held it for seconds to soon return it with a bright smile. You try rejecting it, he had been fighting hard for it so it was confusing why he didn’t want it. You thought it had to do with the principle of the winner takes it all; it wasn’t the case. 

He confessed he had wanted to get it for you and only felt bummed that he wasn’t able to but that you should keep it irregardless as a token of his appreciation and care for you, to give your Garfield some company. The moment would’ve been sweet if the booth attendant didn’t make that stupid doll spritz it’s faux piss your way, forcing you to flee while cursing him out with laughs in between.

That was the beginning of your journey through halls and carps, stepping out here and there to get on children’s rides that warrant glares from parents. Jaehyun joked about dragging Ollie so he could ride the caterpillar rollercoaster with him and have you take pictures of a father with his kid. Jaehyun is now playing along with the fantasy Ollie has created. You don’t know whether to laugh or let the ache in your heart manifest.

You end at the ferris wheel only a few feet away. In the process of calming each other’s laughter, the noises of people and music filled the silence. Comforting as the day you met, walking through the market and buying produce for that day’s meal. It makes Jaehyun think about how far you two have gone. How one little incident with a cactus has led to having the time of your lives nearing the highest point of the ride.

You’ve felt the warmth and softness of his touch. Felt his care and appreciation through every little act yet you yearn and crave for more from him. Your body and soul know there is more both can offer, although frightened that you’ve misinterpreted his lingering gazes and gestures.

“When I was younger my mom had decided that we would spend every summer with my grandparents and aunt. I hadn’t been here since I was five for her grandpa’s funeral so it meant nothing the first few weeks. The first year, even.”

Jaehyun turns, intrigued. “Then when my mom would make the long distance calls and send letters, my grandpa would joke around how I didn’t want to visit them at all – that I hated it here, similar to how he does with you. I didn’t hate it, I think I just wasn’t familiar with the lifestyle in comparison to back home where I don’t have to worry about if there’s hot running water.”

His hand inches closer to you. “In attempts to prove him wrong, I spent my time here helping him with the animals, going grocery shopping with him and my cousins and it drew me closer to this. After the second summer, we spent Christmas here too and the weather killed me but they seemed so happy that I joined.” 

Your laugh comforts him. He thinks about the times he’s attempted to help and failed your grandparents, it only dawns upon him that things take time and he shouldn’t dwell on them too much.

“Then in my last summer of college, I had taken an internship that promised a job right out of college– obviously it was a lie, I’m here.” You laugh bitterly. “I missed time with my family and my grandma ended up in the hospital. I felt so guilty the remainder of the year, even during winter break. I felt like it was my fault, that my absence was the small piece of the puzzle that could ruin it all.”

Jaehyun felt and heard the remorse in your voice, he felt the need to find a way to ease it with no avail, feeling as inutile as when the ram tackled you. It’s imprinted in his brain that no matter what, it will weigh on his shoulders that he’s not able to help no matter how much he tries.

“And I think the universe is funny and cruel enough that when the internship dropped me and said all vacancies were occupied, my aunt was the one to fall ill next. Forcing her back home with her own family. It was its way to make it up to me, as horrible as it sounds.”

You share a sigh, he takes your hand in his, reassuringly. You don't want comfort words, he knows that, he knows this is enough for you. “I think what I first felt when visiting is what you feel now with the exception that you actually have so much to do out there…” Jaehyun’s actions halt, lifting his head to look at your sorrow filled eyes.

He shakes his head, trying to convince himself and you. He clings to the delusion everyone helped create in hopes to be good hosts. He still has time, Jaehyun has time, he wants to believe it so please don’t shatter his joy so quickly, please!

“It’s okay, Jaehyun. You have to publish your book, we’ll always be here for you as they’ve been for me.” He’s not too sure how true that is. Life is never consistent nor forgiving, he’s learnt that in harsh ways. People’s care is conditional and based on time and familiarity, he’s been at the end of that stick.

Your hand takes purchase on his cheek, consoling him for what you have just said. You didn’t intend to cause this but you have to prepare yourself for what you’ve known all along. “I don’t think I want to go back and risk anything.” He mutters, eyes softening the longer he looks at you, the ride feels endless.

“You must… All there is for you here is inspiration.” They’re meant to comfort him but it feels more like you’re trying to convince yourself that you’ll be fine when he leaves. Jaehyun’s lips part ready to speak, words muted by the fireworks going off. Midnight has hit, it’s a brand new day and it’s received with pyrokinetic colors that aim to diffuse the pain he feels.

They illuminate your face, a smile forming in awe of how pretty they look. Not as pretty as you, Jaehyun is sure of that the longer he stares with the same smile on his face you adore. “I’ve found the life I needed all along.” His touch on your cheek brings you back to him, dumbfounded with what he meant. Inquiries answered upon feeling his lips softly land on yours.

Hands softly cradle your face, eyelashes tickling your cheek as you get a taste of him. It’s so soft and tender that you want to be here for the rest of the night, drowning the noises around you. If you’ve felt heaven before, it doesn’t compare to being with him like you are now. 

The crowded path didn’t feel claustrophobic, like it was just you two in the sea of booths, fluorescent lights and fireworks. The music drowned, his grasp on you doing its best to keep you with him for whatever time is left for you two.

He hadn’t noticed at what point you both had gone back until Ollie stepped in between you two. “So? Did you like it?” The giddy young boy questions, a bottle of beer in his hand, compliments from his cousin – your grandparents with their own as well, watching. Jaehyun nods, glancing at you. “More than anything.” He smiles widely, hypnotizing dimples present. 

Ollie giggles, a chant as he jumps near your grandparents telling them something that neither of you manage to hear, distracted by the shocking ice-cold bottle shoved into your hands. Your grandfather had been talking to your grandmother, both laughing about judgments thrown at people around them. Mean, yes, but it’s not often that they bond about things anymore.

The elder’s leg had been bouncing as they talked, cackling in the process of drowning whatever was left in the bottle. Jaehyun took notice of this, turning to the group playing up on stage a few feet away. People around were dancing, some seemed to enjoy themselves, others not too much – the only thing that mattered was the ambient and showing face. 

Jaehyun approaches your grandpa, asking if he was having a good time. The older of the two nodded, responding by showing the new bottle Ollie handed him. You scold both of them to not drink too much but they shush you. “It’s a party, Y/n. Liven up.” Ollie laughs, alcohol having gotten into his stream, demonstrated on how clumsily he clinks his bottle with yours and everyone else's. “Come on, let’s dance instead.” Pulling you in for a quick little shuffle. He’s not a great dancer, he knows it. He also knows his joy brings joy to your grandparents and you’ll do anything for them to maintain it.

You entertain Ollie, dancing despite him having already stepped on you multiple times. Apologizing with whines and puppy eyes that make you laugh. You push him off after a while, helping your grandfather up so he could dance with you. He’s overjoyed, finally having the opportunity to do what he loves so much, a pity your grandmother is the opposite. She’s content enough with just watching.

Jaehyun smiles, laughing in glee at how the ambient fuels his emotions. His own body swaying ever so slightly, brain trying to formulate how to dance to music he’s never heard. He thinks he gets it, it doesn’t seem too hard but he could be proven wrong and become Ollie’s mirror.

Your grandmother, ever so insightful, watches with a glint of content with how well he has adapted to the culture. Although, far more interested in the way his eyes don’t leave you. His ears are red, brighter than the light illuminating the stage and the municipal office. Jaehyun may try to hide how he feels, you may try, but she’s older and wiser. She’ll always know when love is around.

“Go ask her for a dance.” She elbows him to catch his attention, Jaehyun had been holding your grandfather’s seat. The mention alone caused his ears to brighten, crimson migrating to his face. He tries not to smile, it so happens to be that his muscles are treacherous and they emphasize the lines of his smile, deepening those dimples you love. 

Jaehyun shakes his head. Convince her that it’s okay, that he would rather watch, something she won’t allow. “Don’t coward away. When’s the next time you’ll get the chance?” Jaehyun ignores the heavy meaning of her words, he prefers to ignore the reality that slowly creeps in. Regardless, he nods, taking in the other point of view. He thanks her with a smile, standing up to walk towards you. Sacks of nervousness weighing him down, making his hands sweat.

“Mind if I take her from you?” Jaehyun clears his throat, head tilting, pleading. The older man cackles, pure and utter joy that Jaehyun has made a move. Frantically he nods, agreeing by pushing you towards the brunette who seems just as ecstatic as your grandfather. Given persimmon, Jaehyun takes your hand in his. Awkwardly figuring out how else he should position himself.

You watch amusedly, hiding your smile by pressing your lips together as if your cheeks and eyes were not a dead giveaway. “What makes you think I wanted to dance with you?” You tease, correcting where his hands and feet should go. The smile you try hard to hide slowly creeps in. Jaehyun doesn’t mind exposing his own, giggling when you begin to lead. “What’s this then?” He plays along, moving his feet and knees according to what he had examined. Raising your shoulders in a shrug, you don’t hold back your smile, a giggle following. “A lesson.” 

The dance doesn’t go smoothly, you have to teach him between laughs, both yours and his with your family’s in the background but he manages. Even if you all think his dancing is horrible, as bad as Ollie’s, the younger one takes the opportunity to capture you two dancing with Jaehyun’s camera. If there’s something to remember, it is this night and the love that has finally come into fruition.

The flash blinds you, stopping you two from dancing and even though Ollie whines for you two to continue, you both claim your feet ache. It’s not a lie on your end but the coyness from your family seeing you with a potential partner is a bigger deal.

It’s past two in the morning, obvious in the way your grandparents hide their yawns from your view, hoping to not ruin your night further. “Want to go home?” You walk towards them, a hand on your hip and genuine concern on your face. They admit they are tired but don’t want to go home no matter how much you insist. Ollie offers to drive them home while you and Jaehyun stay back longer but you’ve been away from them this entire night that you cannot fathom the idea any longer.

Ollie and your grandparents can try to convince you with the same story about Jaehyun’s limited time but that wasn’t going to work now. No, you stick to your guns and manage to get them in the car. Ollie had drank far more than all of you so he wasn’t apt to drive, instead Jaehyun volunteered, something that had excited your grandfather the most.

After removing the cinder blocks and putting them back in the trunk, Ollie walks towards your window, bidding everyone goodnight. You nag him, worried that he was drinking too much. He receives you with an “Okay, mom!”, the same phrase he’s been throwing around ever since Jaehyun had reached a month’s stay. It managed to get a laugh out of your grandparents, even from you and Jaehyun but it didn’t change that you still lightly swat his hand. “I’m serious, Ollie. Don’t drink anymore, stay back a bit but not too late, Okay?” 

The worry in your eyes makes him relent, nodding before kissing your cheek goodnight and shaking Jaehyun’s hand. The interaction forced a smile on his face, every single aspect of your tenderness making him melt more.

As the moon is his witness, Jaehyun has fallen in love with this village and you. Gracious the stars are that once you manage to get your grandparents in bed and meet Jaehyun in the kitchen, the two of you quietly make your way outside with nothing but moonlight to illuminate you.

“Want some coffee?” You ask, fingers familiarizing themselves with the texture of those yellow walls. “Do you not want to sleep?” He laughs, taking those same fingers to familiarize with the tenderness of his lips. The action makes your breath hitch. 

“Perhaps…”

His eyes meet yours, inching closer to capture your lips in another tender kiss. His hands find purchase on your waist, your arms wrap around his shoulders. It’s sweet and soft, his tongue managing to slip in your mouth to waltz with your own. The soft muscle forces a delighted sigh, one that he swallows graciously.

When neither can hold it for much longer, you separate, smiling like two fools. “So no coffee, then?” You laugh, one he reciprocates with a nod. “Too bitter, not as sweet as you.” The flirtatious remark is received with a laugh.

“You’re so cheesy.” You claim. “It’s worth it if it makes you laugh – it’s what I like to hear everyday.”

Jaehyun’s expression is serious, the adoration in his eyes letting you know how he feels. He may not pin a word to it but you can see his yearning and longing. You try to be in the same cloud he is in, to ignore the dooming reality but you can’t. You appreciate his affection and you reciprocate it but you also don’t want to become delusional.

“Jaehyun…” Your head drops, avoiding his look. He thinks he’s done something wrong and it aches horribly. “Yeah?” He squeaks meekly, head moving in hopes to see your eyes, to understand how the atmosphere became so somber. “How serious are you about this? You know how things are an–” 

“Don’t… Please don’t bring that up.” He begs, eyes shutting, no longer in need to understand what you meant. “You can’t act like you don’t have a life outside of here. You may stay all you want but eventually you will go back – there’s more to life than this for you.” Your head lifts, vulnerability not as heavy as his.

He tries to drown out your words, this night has gone too well for things to fall off already. He doesn’t want it to be bittersweet. Sure he can stay all he wants until it’s time to publish his book but he will come back so why are you being so cruel to him?

“Nothing compares to this, Y/n.” He holds your hands, hoping his warmth lets you know how much you’re hurting him but also how much he loves you. You shake your head, a small smile of unbelievability. “You’ve been here for three months, that’s still fine and dandy. It’s not like truly living here.” 

His eyebrows furrow, refusing to listen. “But you still love it here. I don’t know what you’re trying to get at.” His voice quivers, frightened that this is your way of ripping his heart out.

You sigh, squeezing his hands. “I do, I love it but I also think that I’ve been looking at this place through the same glasses you’re looking through. What I’m getting at is that, in the long run you’ll get bored, everyone I know has and they’ve left… Who knows, maybe even Ollie will leave and it’ll leave me here because no matter how hard I try to make a life out there, it doesn’t love me back.”

Jaehyun was perplexed, eyes scanning your face. He knows you’re projecting, that you don’t want to get attached despite already having done so, he hopes you could see inside him to understand that he doesn’t ever want to leave. He doesn’t want to leave you.

His hands cradle your face, kissing your eyelids, cheeks, nose, and lips for reassurance. “I can always come back. After publishing whatever I have in hand, I will always come back. You are the life that I needed all along, Y/n.” His whisper is heavy and sincere, the glimmer in both your eyes, evidence to what both feel.

Words don’t describe what you two feel, no matter how heavy they hang on your tongues. No, it’s best that you share it in another tender kiss that the stars and moon witness. Both end the conversation, convinced that the love you two port is stronger than the universe’s will.

Quick glances and kisses are stolen for the following weeks, everyone knows what both feel but it’s more exciting if you pretend as if this love is forbidden despite the encouragement and approval of your family. Ollie teases you two about the brewing romance, pretending to act like he didn’t say anything regarding it when you correct him that nothing is happening. It’s like a game for all of you, one that you all indulge in for the sake of excitement.

You had all agreed upon visiting a thermal spring this morning, the drive was somewhat long and it was best to arrive before other people did. Ollie was the most excited about it, he had begged his family to let him go for days until they agreed. It just so happens to be that the universe doesn’t often like to see him happy; you don’t appreciate that.

Ollie had arrived with a glum look on his face, saddened eyes when he sat in his usual seat next to the chimney. Jaehyun approached him with a cup of hot chocolate and a pat to his head. Your grandma didn’t take long to question the reason behind his state but he only sighed.

“They moved the pension collection to today. The offices will be closed until next month for remodeling so you two have to go in before the line gets long.” His lip juts out, looking at everyone with puppy eyes. 

You ruffle his hair, rubbing his back comfortingly. “We can go tomorrow, Ollie. Don’t worry…” You mimic his pout, his head rests on your hip, pressure tickling your hip bone. “No… Dad is taking me with him out of town for a few weeks to help with the ranch that hired him.” He doesn’t dare look at anyone. It’s not the first time he was taken to different places in the country but when they came back his dad usually kept Ollie locked in for a while until he became unbearable to keep in. It’s as if he relishes in your joint misery.

Jaehyun throws you a look, looking for ways to solve this crisis. He knows you don’t like the news, he hates them too. He’s grown so fond of Ollie that knowing he’s the first to go is causing a small turmoil in his chest. Sure, he may be back and Jaehyun will still be here but one never knows how things may turn out. 

“What if you and Jaehyun go? I have to take my grandparents for their pension so you two enjoy.” Ollie wishes things were that easy but his childish intuition fears that time is coming short and if you don’t spend more time with Jaehyun, he’ll feel guilty for whatever ending comes.

Ollie shakes his head, standing up. “No, it’s fine. You and him go. I’m going to take my dad anyway so I can take them too.” He attempts to smile even if he can’t. It dawns upon you that missing the trip isn’t his concern but not seeing any of you for God knows how long is what’s killing him. 

You try to deny, shake your head in protest. Jaehyun does so as well, it’s not that he doesn’t want time alone with you but knowing this is his last day with Ollie for a while is killing him. Your grandparents hadn’t said anything up until this point. They weren’t fond of swimming, they never did.

“Ollie is right, you two go.” Your grandmother spoke, standing to grab her purse. “I can’t leave you two, what if you need help?” You attempt and they protest, your grandfather jumping in by throwing in Jaehyun’s limited time. It seems they’re all far more in tune with reality than you two.

You don’t know how or when but they managed to convince you and Jaehyun to go. Both attempted to protest and cancel the trip all together but here you were, in your grandfather’s old and chipped red ford. The seats torn apart, a blanket hiding away its imperfections. The red leather of the dashboard hot under Jaehyun’s touch, its form of showing that you two being left alone was real.

That now you didn’t have to talk through a window in the bathroom to spend some alone time. You didn’t have to climb on the sink and hit your head on the roof just to see his face through the mangled chicken wire and be received by concrete flakes on your lips and eyelashes whenever you attempt to kiss through it. No, here you were able to hold hands and kiss without fear of being caught (even if it didn’t matter – everyone knew).

The roads were messy and bumpy, dirt flew all around which forced you to keep the windows rolled-up despite the sun’s rays being hotter than the actual weather. Worse off is that once he came out of the truck, a gust of cold breeze rained upon him. Showing him everything he had missed while struggling with heat and keeping dust out of your airways. 

It was a reward but also mockery, to him at least because you remained unphased, rejoicing on how lonely it was. “Reckon everyone is getting their pension, too?” You ask, hands on your hips, ripping some overgrown grass by your feet to make sure no venomous critters are around.

Jaehyun shrugs, letting his focus remain on his surroundings. It was amazing for him to see how deserted and destroyed this place was. Overgrown yellowing grass that stray cattle eat, ruins of houses from colonial towns signaling the fleeing of whoever had inhabited them before; your grandfather had later explained that the location was a town destroyed in the process of gaining independence.

What was prettier to him was the body of water he was here for. Multiple trees around, so green and alive in comparison to the remaining vegetation. The water is so clear and warm that he could see the steam rise the closer he got.

“Like it?” You question, to his side with towels on your shoulders. Jaehyun’s head whips, a smile on his face upon reaching for your hand, “It’s beautiful.” His fingers interlace with yours, camera in hand positioning it an arms length away when he takes the initiative to lean down and kiss you, capturing it all on film.

You shove him playfully, rushing to a dry rock where you can leave your possessions. He chases after you, removing his shirt and unbuttoning his pants. Your instinct to look away is something he does not miss and it causes a blush to creep up on his face.

He takes in the temperature of the water with his feet. Jumping back when he realizes it’s hotter than what he’s experiencing right now. “It’s not that bad.” You call out, pulling down on the bottoms of your dress swimsuit. Your smile softly falters when he doesn’t respond, rather his attention is set on how pretty you look.

The trees sway, leaving empty slots for the sunrays to seep through, illuminating you. Seemingly purposely done, to put you on a pedestal for him to look at with nothing else but admiration. That blush he had earlier rose again, one he’ll pretend is due to the water’s temperature.

“What are you looking at?” You tease, smile back on. Jaehyun approaches you with a shrug, shirt unbuttoned halfway. His fingers thread over the fabric of the straps, such a pretty lace decorated with satin red ribbon forming a bow at the front. “You.” He smiles, warm fingers touching your arms in hopes to feel closer than he already is in all senses. You don’t respond but he’s aware that the look you give him is fond.

Your hands mimic his, finding their way to his shirt and helping him undo the last few buttons, pushing off the linen to free his flesh and let it be kissed by the breeze – something you can only wish for. Once off you toss it to the pile of clothes and towels, cocking your head for him to follow you into the water. It’s glistening and steaming, soothing once his feet acclimate.

Silent sounds escape both, little by little submerging yourselves – your hands not letting go in any instance. “My mom and aunt loved to come here. They’re hypochondriacs – at least my mom is– always claiming a trip here was healing, holistic. Forcing my grandparents to put their feet in at least so the warmth would take away any aches.” Jaehyun could see how your free hand rubbed at your knees, mimicking their action. 

“Pretty sure they take from my grandma but my grandpa was more of a people pleaser so he’d tell them he felt much better just so they wouldn’t feel bad. I don’t really see how this can take away all your aches. I get that it can help temporarily but not permanently.” Your shrug and words may tell him so but Jaehyun can tell that your vigorous rubbing at your own joints was a form of subconsciously believing them.

“Maybe… It seems like a mutual interaction of comfort and understanding. Your mom and aunt try their best for their parents to feel better about their bodies wearing down and in turn they receive praise and appreciation from them.” 

Your hand stops its action, looking up at him with a hum. “I guess so.” You mutter, letting go of him to float on your back. “The writer in you just had to make it so philosophical.” he can hear the smile on your lips, your feet playfully kicking some water onto him to which he laughs, responding by splashing you too. Calling a truce when he was winning this battle.

As a way to comfort, he pulls you in for a hug. Your back to his chest, head resting on his shoulder and holding onto a railing to not float away far deeper. If it was for Jaehyun, he’d love to stay like this until it was time to go. For once in this entire trip you two have been truly left alone. No more sneaking kisses and late night talks through the bathroom window. It was just you and him an hour away from civilization with only the cattle as witness to the love you two didn’t speak about but embraced. 

There is nothing more Jaehyun wants than to have more time with you. He wonders if things would have been different if he had fallen for you much earlier or if you had. He’s not fully sure how much you love him, he knows you’re stuck on him leaving sometime in the future which is what hinders this from going forward but he truly wishes you could see that he has no intent on leaving soon or for too long. 

What if he had helped you clean the pen earlier? That would have meant spending more time with you and more outings with your family, surely. On the other hand, what if he had been useful enough during planting? It’s evident he would have never gotten close to you beside cordiality in the mornings and afternoons for meals and trips to the market. 

Jaehyun cannot think of a world where this trip would result in you two not becoming closer. He can’t fathom not getting to know and falling in love with you.

Sensing his pensiveness, you turn your head, looking up at him with a questioning look that he could only interpret as trying to read his mind. He’s noticed that quirk, the way your head tilts and your lips quiver in a way to mutter a “hm” without voicing it. He makes sure to receive it with a smile, leaning in to peck your lips that surely help you abandon your actions.

“It’s a bummer Ollie didn’t come.” He attempts to distract. “Would have been nice seeing him have some fun before leaving.” There’s more to what he had said. Jaehyun wanted to add ‘before I leave’ into his sentence, it’s hanging on his tongue despite how much his brain and heart attempt to keep him wrapped around his delusion of perpetual happiness.

“I think so too.” your body twists within his arms, facing him. “I was thinking of making his favorite meal for dinner once we get back. His dad always returns him skinnier and paler than how he leaves, I need him to keep his cheeks plump, don’t you think?” Your exclamation forces a chuckle out of him, nodding in response. 

“Help me find a gift for him too, then?”  “Don’t spoil him too much, he’ll be an even bigger pain than he already is.” “Oh come on, don’t be so mean to the kid. Let me, please…” Jesus, if anyone was to hear you two they’d think you’re talking about a child and not a nineteen year old. But that’s what Ollie is to you both. A child you saw as yours or your brother that Jaehyun would spoil while you scold him no matter how much you loved him. You’d reckon Ollie’s presence kept you sane even if he often teased you but his nature was enough to bring entertainment for you and joy for your grandparents. If Jaehyun looks back at it, Ollie reminds him of the young boy he met in that taxi on the way to that village. 

Reluctantly (faking so) you agree, rolling your eyes before pushing him off to swim away from him. He doesn’t stay too behind, chasing you for what feels like forever. Overworking your body for hours in such a hot body of water had rendered exhausting for both to the point that you basically had to drag each other out of the water just to lay on the cool metal ramp, gasping for air acclimation to avoid fainting. Jaehyun was far more concerned with you when he didn’t hear you speaking nor felt you moving, calming when you stick your tongue out at him for his nosiness although all you wanted was to see him smile.

“You complain about Ollie but it seems like the real brat here is you!” He exclaims, gaining momentum to swing his legs onto both sides of you. “Cry about it.” You mutter, a smile on your face; his hair hangs off, fuzzy around his eyes and dripping onto your cheeks. “Or… maybe I should do something to correct it.” His hair tickles your face, sticking to your cheeks the more his lips linger on them, testing the waters.

He relents when your arms wrap around his shoulders, leaving him flush over your body with nothing left but your lips to connect. They’re cold and pillowy, soft against your own just like his hands when they find purchase on your waist, holding you near as if the spring water below you will drag you out of his grasp, the last thing he needs. 

Jaehyun is gentle in the way he holds and kisses you. His hands knead your skin, warming against it the more they roam around to hold you closer. Your fingers thread through his hair, sending shivers down his spine that causes him to sigh into the kiss, enough for your tongue to slip through and deepen the kiss. The intensity rose, his hands felt much hotter against your skin the lower they went, scalding when one of them grips your upper thigh –avoiding the bruising from whitey’s assault– helping it raise to rest on his hip.

Tongues mingle amongst each other, the taste of the mango juice he drank earlier still coating it to which you enjoy against your own. The thin film of saliva on both of your lips helps them slot smoothly in a far more pleasant kiss. Jaehyun’s fingers knew how to tease you, tips tickling your inner thigh that forced small groans which begged him for more. 

More, more, more – Jaehyun would have given you everything if it wasn’t for the faint sound of music blaring and tires pushing dirt through Cattle began mooing, warning you of company joining, spoiling whatever comfort you two had.

You scramble to grab the towels, Jaehyun helps you, drying you off with his own and taking the remaining items under his arm to help you towards the truck, staying guard while you change into dry clothes coming in when you knock against the window. He doesn’t bother changing, claiming the air will dry him well enough upon. 

You cross paths with the incoming truck, nodding your heads in acknowledgment before embarking on another long ride. Small talk made here and there, he speaks about how much this road reminds him of Western America: dry vegetation and barely any trees insight but with lively mountains that shield anyone from the sun. You tell him that it seems interesting how he describes that part while detesting Connecticut but he laughs and shrugs. 

It’s not long until you stop at a gas station, the truck nearly empty and he still had to change into some dry clothes. He met you inside, walking through the aisles in search of a snack for whatever was left of the ride. 

Jaehyun doesn’t share your sentiment. He finds himself distracted by a corner of toys, a bright red truck similar to the one you’re transporting through catching his eye. It glimmers under the sun rays that make way through the window panels. Jaehyun thinks it would be a good gift for Ollie, a menial one for now.

Paying for the items and heading outside with you hand in hand, Jaehyun recalls seeing a photobooth by the bathrooms. He pulls you along with no response to your questions, motioning with his head for you to push through the red velvet curtain. The first image is neutral enough, smiling while looking directly at the mirror, the flash comes in and you two hold each other. By the last two flashes it resulted in engraving the image of you two kissing.

You laugh at him for sneaking in a kiss and having it on film, he shrugs you off knowing that it was an image he’d like to see at all times and he’s hopeful you do too. You still needed to wait for at least four minutes for the film strips to develop, leading Jaehyun to slot in more coins claiming he wanted Ollie to have something to remind the young boy of the two. 

Jaehyun truly wanted to say that he hoped Ollie wouldn’t forget that the two loved him. He hoped a flimsy piece of paper was enough of comfort to Ollie as they will be to him.

Pulling out a pocketbook rushedly, Jaehyun manages to scribble his support and appreciation for the young boy. That’s an image of himself alone, handing it to you to scribble something quick before the flash goes off again. The last two flashes are paraded with you two making faces you often made towards him – sticking your tongue out or scrunching your nose, the latter his favorite one.

“Good luck in your journey, you’ve done so well these past months!” “Ollie! Remember to eat all your meals and no buddy-budding with any louse. You’re a good boy!” “Fighting our lovely, Ollie!” Compliments of Jaehyun.  “We love you, Ollie. More than you think.” Now that comes from the bottom of both of your hearts.

Jaehyun bought a jacket for Ollie once back in the village while grocery shopping at the market for the voyage dinner. For the first time since he arrived you had trusted him to navigate the village on his own. The everyday route was engraved onto his brain, finding you shortly with the jacket in a wrapped box. You wanted to see it but he told you you’d have to wait until Ollie opens it, he didn’t want to re-wrap this himself.

Your grandparents and Ollie didn’t arrive until a few hours later when everything was set up already. Jaehyun arranged the table outside with a fine china that belonged to you, not the one in the cabinet. He had attempted to help you in the kitchen but backed off when he saw your eye twitch the second he mixed a pot on the stove. There he learnt that getting in your way while cooking wasn’t a good idea so he instead went to feed the pen animals and loiter around to write the letter he’d give the young boy with his gifts.

Ollie could have sworn this was a delayed birthday party. Jaehyun had arrived a week after Ollie turned nineteen, missing any form of celebration. Now he was complete, this had to be a form of celebration and not a voyage dinner, it just had to. Otherwise why would he be crying at the dinner table? 

Ollie would like to think his tears represented the impending doom you were all to face one way or another with his absence. Both figuratively and and literally; comically and realistically. 

The hands on his back and shoulders try their best to comfort him, whispers of how this was yet another trip meant to minimize the meaning of this but Ollie knew something was wrong, something none of you did just yet. He smiled widely, tears streaming down his face, laughing in order to control himself but your gentle wiping and hugs made him fall deeper into that feeling. His childish intuition as you all call it.

Jaehyun on the other hand decides to pull out his gifts in hopes it would help but it only made Ollie cry harder. The younger spews his thank you’s, hugging Jaehyun for comfort to which the older one takes, his own heart filling with such an aching pulsation. He ignores it, it doesn’t matter what he’s feeling, he wants Ollie to take a good look and remember him in a bright light.

Ollie wore the jacket all night and took it on his trip – along the letter–, never letting anyone touch it. He left the truck with you and your grandparents, he knew it’d be far more safe with you than with his brothers. 

The dinner didn’t spoil after his crying fit. Your grandmother had playfully scolded him to get a grip while your grandfather helped him with a shot of liquor. It progressed onto serving them all dinner, Jaehyun helping you throughout all steps while your grandpa complained about the long lines for their pension and all the old people as if he wasn’t one of them. Your grandmother only backed him up a few times, rebutting his claims in others just for the sake of arguing which caused laughs to leave everyone. 

It wasn’t anything new, Jaehyun had grown accustomed to their conversations. They may argue right now but other times the tone of their voices sounded harsh when all they were doing was conversing, as peaceful as they knew how. He wonders if this will ever be you two although he’s not sure he could raise his voice at you or vice versa.

Night had fallen faster than any of you would have wanted. Usually Ollie would leave whenever he pleased and no one would bat an eye but in the past hour his father had called nearly ten times and it was bothering your grandparents. You and Jaehyun too but not as much as the elders since they were the ones inside. Your grandmother had been yelling from her bed to tell Ollie his dick of a father was on the line again, in fact by the fifth call no one answered, they just knew. 

So when the tenth call had rung, Ollie who had been helping you put away the left overs answered angrily telling his father to fuck off and that he’d be on the way soon, received with some scolding from him that he didn’t finish spewing from how fast Ollie hung up. It didn’t mean your scolding wasn’t on the way with how piercing your glare was.

Like a kicked sad puppy, Ollie goes to you in hopes his affection would soften the blow. “That’s not how I’ve raised you, Oliver! Your dad may be a deadbeat but you still shouldn’t talk to him like that – at least in our presence!” Your fingers nip his earlobe, a yelp leaving his bitten lips and a grunt to follow. 

“You know my grandparents don’t like when you talk back so don’t do it again when they’re around, okay?” You say, a hand on your hip like a mother scolding her child. That’s essentially how you saw him and how he saw you. 

“So I can talk back in front of you?” A cheeky smile received with a soft pinch to his ear. “No!” Your smile betrayed your words. He giggles at the reaction he got out of you, twisting out of your grasp to take you into a hug. 

“I really wish you would just enjoy the present and the time you have with Jaehyun without dwelling on how long or how little he has left here. Enjoy the love he’s giving you and return yours, he needs it too, Y/n. For what is left...” 

He sighs, holding you in a firmer grasp. Words don’t quite describe what you want to answer with but you knew he was right despite your initial hostility. 

You kiss his cheek, nodding as a response. He mimics your actions before waving and heading over to your grandparents to bid his goodbyes before leaving through the middle room. 

Jaehyun doesn’t know why he disappeared after dessert. Perhaps he didn’t want to face Ollie when he left and had to say goodbye, he wasn’t good with those. So here he was, on the roof next to the water tank, filling it up as an excuse to why he was so detached from everyone else. It didn’t matter though, Ollie had found him immediately that when Jaehyun heard the clanking of boots he gifted the boy against the rusted ladder, he felt dread.

He pretended to be people watching, seeing how a guy on the right side cleaned his car (it is  meant to rain tomorrow or overnight). In the front, a woman bathes her dogs within the vicinity of her patio, the dog shaking and getting the water all over her. On the dirt filled path, children rode their bicycles, going around any ditches and potholes that would make them fall.

Ollie joins him, standing besides, focusing far more on how the sun was setting. He allows Jaehyun to speak first but frowns when he doesn’t; the faint sound of the phone ringing again makes him shut his eyes.

“Thank you for the gifts, you’ve done far more for me than my own dad.” He bitterly chuckles. Jaehyun turns to him, a small grin on his face that falls when the younger one speaks again.

“You’re avoiding me.” “No.” 

His voice wavers, eyes trying to show Ollie he wasn’t. Ollie chuckles again, shaking his head. 

“I get it, don’t worry. I don’t want to say bye either.”  “I don’t want to say bye.”

Ollie nods, looking at the sights Jaehyun had looked upon. The car was clean despite the sprinkling, a child had missed a bump and fell, and the dog was laying back on dirt.

“Jaehyun, it does mean a lot to me what you’ve done these months. You kind of suck with labor and all but you’ve been of great help.” He laughs, hoping his teasing jab will ease the tension. Jaehyun rolls his eyes, hitting the back of his head softly with a silent laugh. “I’m serious though, you’ve been of great help to Y/n, it’s not easy dealing with the house work and being a caretaker. I think you’ve helped liven her up more. I’m glad you’re able to think about your present with her. I hope it doesn’t change, you make her happy and we like seeing her this way.” Ollie sighs looking at his watch, the sun has set. 

“I hope you’re still here by the time I come back home–” He laughs, cutting himself off. “It’s not even my home.” 

“I’ve never felt more at home than here, I understand.”

Ollie smiles at his claims, he nods with a final sigh. Before going down he gives Jaehyun a final hug and a tight squeeze. The older man mimics his actions to demonstrate his own affection.

Midway down the ladder, Ollie stops and Jaehyun tilts his head. “By the way, this came after you left earlier today.” He pulls out a wrinkled envelope from his back pocket. Immediately recognizing the ivory color and red wax seal, all Jaehyun knows is that he won’t read it any time soon.

“Bye, Jaehyun.” “Bye, Ollie.”

–

Things didn’t go back to normal after Ollie’s departure, no matter how hard everyone pretended that this hadn’t created a rupture into the atmosphere – a breach to the eco. It goes to say that Ollie helped things feel easy and fun, he was the joy you all needed and now he was gone. Things felt mundane again and to Jaehyun this wasn’t a foreign feeling but one he did not want to have here.

A week and a half without him already feels like an eternity. You and Jaehyun wonder if this is what parents feel when their children finally part ways. 

On the brightside, his conversation with you helped you ease into what you felt for Jaehyun. Yes, you still sneaked kisses and affectionate touches here and there out of respect for your grandparents but it was so obvious what you two had that the elders didn’t tease you anymore for the glances and blush.

Mail day has arrived and Jaehyun once again has received a letter, one he thinks about throwing onto the pile of drafts he’s written and discarded. The letter Ollie handed him before he left tucked in between those. 

He thanks the mailman, putting down the rake he used to pick up fallen leaves. Your grandfather had taught him to put them in a pile to later be burned. He contemplates throwing the letter in, watching the red wax seal spread as it melts. He can't, though, the bold red letters screaming “URGENT!” make themselves present to him. 

Jaehyun sighs, shaking his head wondering what it was now as he opens the envelope. Simple greetings, some scolding and questioning, and a plane ticket. What? That was enough for Jaehyun to ignore his nonchalant attitude and let panic take over him. He took the effort to read over the letter closely without missing a detail. 

Why the hell would he have a plane ticket?!

‘Dear Jaehyun,

No, scratch that. What the hell is wrong with you? We haven’t heard back from you since that call and you’re not answering the one letter we sent you. We figure and understand you’re having a great time but it does not mean you’re meant to forget your responsibilities back home. Remember how you’re supposed to send drafts? Right, you haven’t done that and given the changes made while you’ve been gone it’s best you get to it!

We miss you so don’t regard this letter as totally reproachful. Please be sure to be here and don’t miss your plane. We’ll make sure to send a fax before you make it to the airport. Till then, enjoy your time and give us a call as soon as you can.

Sincerely, Jude.’

Well this has severed his plans and mood. Was it not enough to have one departure?

30 AUG 87, 17:30 time of departure, one way only. Red bold letters mirroring the ones that caught his attention to read the components of the letter. If he had known it was for this, he would’ve thrown it in the pile of leaves and act clueless if he was to ever receive an emergency call.

His aggravation was noticeable to you the second he stepped inside the vicinity of the patio. His face sunken, something it wasn’t before leaving to clean outside. Not to mention it seemed like he was biting the inside of his cheeks, holding in his breath as a form of repression. You watch carefully, pretending to not have noticed him while cutting sugar canes near his room.  

He sees you and he wants to ask something or at least find a way to begin this conversation. He should tell you, no? He should, he knows it but he’s scared and also a coward who waits for you to throw the first stone.

“Something happened?” Jaehyun stops by the step before the kitchen, facing you with a slight shake of head. “Um… does the phone run overseas calls?” It’s your turn to shake your head, firmly unlike him. “Alright, I’ll be back in a bit.”

He bolts out towards Gabby’s with the ticket inside his pocket, crumbled and wrinkled like the letter Ollie handed him. The older woman seemed to have understood the reason for his visit. The second she saw the familiar face, she pulled that phone she loved so much to the counter along with the catalog and timer, dialing the code before handing it to him. Jaehyun was thankful she didn’t drag it out, he needed answers immediately.

One ring, two rings, “Hello?” Good, rapid enough.

Jaehyun grips the phone, a tight hold that makes his subconscious scared that he’ll pop this heirloom. “I don’t want to go back!” Well, that’s a way to start a conversation. 

Hyunjoo laughs, calling Jude over to let him know their golden boy finally contacted them after four months. Jude wasn’t as kind as Hyunjoo, he took the fatherly role seriously and began berating the younger of the three on why he had gone rogue. 

“What if something had happened to you? Do you not care for what we feel, Jaehyun. If it wasn’t for this idiot I would’ve sent you letters and even gone to pick you up, so don’t ever pull this on us again! On me, again!” One can only imagine how red he was, up to his receding hairline. 

Jaehyun would’ve laughed in the past but now the life he’s built here is soon to crumble and he doesn’t like it. “It doesn’t mean you guys can just force me back! I’ve built something here, I have something going on! I love it here and I don’t want to leave!” He whines, obvious hurt in his wavering voice.

“Yeah, well, whatever you have going on should be finished soon. You know, you only went there for inspiration and to blow some steam off, Yuno. Nothing else, my boy.” If Hyunjoo was there he would pat his cheek reassuringly, unaware of how much Jaehyun hated his little acts of condescension and belittling. 

Jaehyun didn’t want to finish what he had here, he wanted to stay forever. He wanted to stay with you, your grandparents, and Ollie. He wanted to be here by the time Ollie came back to greet him with a big hug, a meal, and a trip to the hot spring he wasn’t able to enjoy before leaving. He wanted to build a life with you. Court you properly, date you, travel with you. Even marry you, he doesn’t care how early this is or how late, he wants you and everyone he’s learnt to love these months in his life. Of course his career had to get in between him and his happiness like always.

Jude sighs, massaging the bridge of his nose.  “Listen, Jaehyun… There’s nothing we can do, have you read the letter we sent you a few weeks back? That explains it all. Believe me when I say that if it was for me, you could stay there for as long as you want and go back whenever the book is published–”

“That’s the plan.” He interrupts, teeth gritting. Jude and Hyunjoo give each other a look, one that would make Jaehyun feel far more defensive if he could see it. “Jaehyun… things have changed within the publishing house. Go read the letter and we’ll see you Monday, yeah?”

Jude waited for an answer that Jaehyun never gave him. He hung up quite forcibly, receiving a glare from the store owner who muttered the amount. He didn’t stay for his change nor cared for her screams telling him to take it. Jaehyun was in an irritable mood that no one could take away from him today.

Things were definitely not fine. That’s as much as you and your grandpa could decree when Jaehyun crossed the patio straight into his room, closing the door behind him without uttering a word. The elder and you removed kernels in front of his window, under the tree for shade. You could hear him mumble incoherently, his eyebrows furrowing the further he read. 

“What bug bit him?” Your grandpa whispers, cocking his head to the open window. You shrug, throwing away the cob into a bucket, fuel for the chimney. “Go ask then.” So persistent and straight to business. “What? No! I’ll wait until he tells me, pa…” But you did want to ask him what was wrong, more than anything. It’s just that your cowardice won’t allow you. The older man rolls his eyes, clicking his tongue in disappointment while feeding the chickens with fallen kernels. 

Time and him can only tell what he’s feeling.

‘Dear Jaehyun,

For starters, we miss you dearly. At least I do but find it in your heart to believe Hyunjoo does so as well. We’ve respected your wishes on not contacting you, even through letters but it’s been over three months and you have yet to let us know how you are doing. Do you not care for mine and your family’s well being? I care for yours, I’ve been restless all these months wondering how you are doing. It’s far too irresponsible to not even contact your own family, Jaehyun.

Is the book in the works? How are the drafts? You know we needed drafts mailed throughout your stay, young man. How is the host treating you? I figure well enough if you haven’t contacted us yet. If not then I’ll see myself forced to call the national guard if I don’t hear from you soon!

Regardless, some updates on how things are going on our end. We’ve been able to fake some notices here and there to the publishing house about yours and the drafts whereabouts. If you must know, if you haven’t figured it out already – which is possible, being in such an isolated village… – Mark is in the process of publishing his next book. His last ones have been a great success and been able to knock some of yours from bestsellers therefore things are becoming harsh around here.

The publishing house wants you back immediately and wants your book ready. Hyunjoo has managed to give you more time before it’s edited and the final print is chosen but the new investors are pushing the house and they are desperate for a contender against Mark’s book. So please, cut your time short and don’t miss your plane! I’ll make sure to send the ticket soon when I’m able to obtain it.

Best regards,  Jude.’

Jaehyun doesn’t know what to think. He now understands multiple jobs are on the line but so is his happiness. Even so if he goes and turns in whatever he has – which isn’t enough for even a first draft – what guarantees all of them that it will be published by the time Mark’s is? They can’t just publish some nonsensical thoughts he’s scribbled down for the sake of beating another child protege author. 

Mark’s work is far different from Jaehyun’s, he’s youthful in the way he writes, his metaphors are far more enthusiastic and fun. He’s great within young audiences and those seeking to remove themselves from melancholia. He’s everything Jaehyun isn’t and in both their brains, they know they can’t compete for something neither are reaching for.

Matter of fact, that’s not his concern right now. His concern is on how to break the news to you and your family. He’s supposed to leave by the end of this week, what are you going to do in such a short notice? What is he going to do in such short notice? Things were finally starting to align, why must bad things always happen to him– you– both.

One thing is for sure, he has to tell you immediately. But first he’s going to go back to Gabby’s and buy whichever pack of beers and some chips, maybe even some bread in case you feel your blood pressure rise (he’ll eat it, most likely). Arriving there and getting the items, he’s grateful the older woman honored the change he had left, even gifted him a chocolate as she sensed that something was off. Jaehyun thanks her and contemplates on saying goodbye but it’s too soon. Instead he nods and waves on his way back.  

He doesn’t have the courage to go past the threshold, opting to sit on the uncomfortable and textured concrete bench by the door of your’s and your grandmother’s bedroom. He hears the loud melodrama of her soap operas and the sewing machine she doesn’t leave alone. Another dress for you, he figures she’s making.

There’s the faint sound of music coming from your grandfather’s car, the one he and Ollie worked on often and that Jaehyun began helping with due to his absence. It pains Jaehyun to know that the elder will once again lose the aid he claims to not want but appreciates wholeheartedly. 

His sigh elicits company, or perhaps the pop from the beer bottle had attracted it so here you were, standing by the metal threshold that separated you and him from inside to outside. Your head tilts, looking at him as if trying to read the grievances on his face. 

“Misery likes company.” 

Your voice makes his head snap, eyes glistening while drowning in the sweetness of your company. He smiles shortly, patting the empty spot to his right, the sun is setting fastly. 

He takes your hand into his, kissing the palm and fingers before pulling you in for an embrace. All of this was scaring you the more and more he remained quiet and it only seems like your brain was already processing the inevitable.

“Got a letter from my manager…” “So?”

“My “rival” is putting out a book soon according to them and they want me to send in a draft already for the final print.” His fingers curl at the quotation marks, rolling his eyes at how stupid it all felt. “Ah… well, do you have anything to send then?” He shakes his head, apologies on your face. “We can stay this entire week so you can work on it, how does that sound? Pa doesn’t have to check on the crops any time soon and there isn’t really anywhere else we could go, not anywhere near.” 

There’s so much pep in your voice that it hurts to think about how short the remaining days will feel. He has to tell you and he has to tell you now.

“I leave this Sunday, Y/n.” “Oh.”

Jaehyun didn’t mean to say it like this but how else was he meant to? He didn’t want to drag it out longer nor agitate you but he also didn’t want to hurt you and that’s all he can read on your face. Hurt.

Misery does love company.

Your body slumps against the adobe wall, harsh against your backbones. The hand he holds falls limp against his touch and all Jaehyun can do as comfort is kissing it before placing the open bottle in your hand, opening another for himself. 

He hadn’t had the time to burn the pile of leaves and the sun was far more foreign by now. That shade of blue coloring his face, an obvious demonstration of his feelings from the past hour. Yet it’s you who takes the initiative to take out the box of matches from the apron you wear, forgetting that you were cooking dinner just to check up on him.

The flame catches fast, rising as you whisper your grievances into it, taking a sip of your drink. Jaehyun doesn’t say anything, he tries to take a hold of your hand but he hesitates, fearful that you won’t want it. Instead he throws both letters onto the fire, helping its consumption and anger. At least now you both have let something go.

The morning after, both elders made sure to not ask any favors out of him and let him to his own vices. They understood he’s meant to get his work done so they didn’t want to add stress onto him. But this continued onto the third and fourth day of the week and Jaehyun was aching more and more as his time fell short. He felt just as inutile as his first week, if not more than that week. He also felt his heart ache only having meals to spend with you all but even then he began feeling like the foreigner he was.

Conversations with him were as cordial as before but not as cheery. They asked about his book and what he had ready. They asked if his suitcase was prepared and if he was happy to go back home. Your grandpa did his best to joke around but would soon drop it when he felt his voice tremble. He’s always worn his heart in his sleeve and another one he saw as a son will now leave him again.

Your grandmother on the other hand was the most level headed. She made sure Jaehyun was kept on track with his work and even helped clean his room when he begged her not to tire herself. She’s faced much loss and pain, a stranger leaving wasn’t going to knock her down. If anything, she feels for how you will act once he’s gone.

By dinner time you and your grandfather had bolted out of the kitchen, feeding the animals any leftovers and giving them their own meal. That left him and your grandmother in the kitchen. She was in the process of taking some water from the bucket in the chimney, he did it instead. Pouring it into another container where your grandmother would then add cold water for balance.

She thanked him and told him he should go back to work but Jaehyun didn’t want to leave. He didn’t want to be alone, he’s been so for the past three days and it’s corroding his soul. He wants to take away the happy memories, he wants his final days to be fun. He’s begging for you all to not do this to him. He needs contact and affection, he needs it.

“So… you have everything ready?” She tries to converse, passing the soapy sponge over the dirty plates. He nods, rinsing it. “Not excited, I’m guessing.” Jaehyun’s pout is enough of an answer. “Look at it on the brightside. You’ll be able to get it over with and the doors here are always open for you.”

He should know she means it, the problem is that he doesn’t know when he’ll be back. How long will it take for the book to be published? How long will promotions last? What if he’s forced to work on something else straight after? Jesus Christ, he’s not even back yet and he’s already stressing about his reality.

“Yeah?”  “Yes.”

Jaehyun smiles at her. 

“Will you take care of Y/n for me?” He asks again, putting away the dishes he’s rinsed. She laughs nodding, “She’s taking care of us, I think she’ll manage well.” Jaehyun laughs as well, feeling foolish. “I don’t think you should worry too much about her, Jaehyun. She’s strong and can handle this. As long as you two keep in contact, I believe it will be fine.” She pats his back, leaving a wet hand print that warms his muscles. 

He contemplates on taking the advice. Your grandmother has said everything he already knows about you but perhaps he’s projecting his own feelings. He’ll need another source for advice and there’s no one better than your grandfather.

Jaehyun excuses himself, rinsing and drying the few dishes left before walking out to help your grandfather on the car. The older man sat pensive while looking around the vehicle, loud music coming out of it to drown any thoughts. 

Hopping on the co-pilot seat, Jaehyun smiles at him, dusting away some stray picked up dust. “It’s looking better now.” He compliments, your grandpa nods, humming with a following hearty laugh. “You’re much better at this than me.” The older one shakes his head, continuing his laughter. “These things take time, you just need to practice more. When you come back I’ll help you with it.” Your grandpa is far more hopeful than the rest of you, that reassures him enough.

“You’ll let me in again?” 

“Yes. You make my kids happy and you’ve been of great help even when you didn’t have to.” His laughter subsided, turning into a smile he was struggling to maintain. “It’s a shame you’re leaving so soon.” He hiccups, waterworks on the way. “We’ll miss you, kid. Especially Y/n…” The mention of your name was enough for him to begin his silent sobs, tears beginning to spill. 

If there is one thing he can count on is your grandfather expressing what you and your grandmother aren’t able to. Jaehyun sniffles himself, comforting with some rubs to the older’s shoulder before hugging him. Now he knows how appreciated and loved he is and for that he is thankful.

Your grandpa attempts to stop crying, laughing in between to seem like everything was fine. That was always his way of trying to control himself. “You’ll come back, right?” Jaehyun nods, smiling at him while wiping away a stray tear. “As soon as possible. I want a life here.” Your grandfather smiles at him, looking straight to where his headlights shine.

“I’m not from here either. I was born and raised in a city an hour or two from here– you’ve been there, that’s where the airport is.” Jaehyun recalls his first day, the bustling and loud city with historical architecture. It was beautiful, surely, but it doesn’t compare to this village and its own beauty.

“I’ve worked my entire life since I can remember, seven to be specific. By eighteen I found myself here, I was young and my only experience came from the mines and cleaning cars but agriculture is a booming business here so somehow I found my way to a ranch that was hiring to work on machinery. I didn’t know how to work a car let alone a tractor but I was hungry and needed money to send back home. My dad died when I was only three and my mom was left alone with five kids. I had to help her. I lied my way through with the owner and I was young so he took me in.” 

Everyone starts somewhere and soon falls in love with the place.

“I stayed at a shack they had built by plots, their own home wasn’t too far so I often went by to ask for a glass of water. That’s when I met Y/n’s grandmother. She’s always been this cold and serious. I would chug the water down and then beg her for more. She would roll her eyes and complain but would always come back with it filled to the brim, ice cold.” He laughs, tears finally gone. 

“From then on I kept trying to talk with her even if she pretended to hate it. I’d ask her sisters and sometimes her brothers but it was tricky, I didn’t want them to beat my ass up for thinking about their sister! So, I would have enough with whatever conversations we would have when she brought the workers drinks and food or at dances. One time her own father told me to ask her to dance and since then I never left her alone. With his blessing, then none of her family would interfere and sooner than later I asked her to marry me so here we are, sixty years later and twelve kids.”

“Is this you giving me your blessing to be with Y/n?” Jaehyun half jokes but there’s so much sincerity in his voice that he can’t deny being hopeful. The older man nods and laughs, clasping his back. “As if you needed it… I often went back to my own family but still came back because I love this place and everything it has offered me. Similar to you… I hope your love for Y/n is as strong as mine was years ago. I would hate to see a different fate for you two.”  

Jaehyun didn’t know how to respond to that, he truly wished to be back as soon as possible and he would fight tooth and nail to make it possible. Yes, it’s different from him and your grandfather due to the distance but he will make it work because he loves you, he loves you so much that he can’t seem to express it properly. 

“Thank you…” “It’s just advice.”

The older man leaves him to his vices and thoughts. With another laugh and a nod bidding him goodnight, he turns the car off, leaving Jaehyun in the dark.

Jaehyun thinks about both conversations all night. He feels a sense of relief knowing he’s had a heart to heart with two of the most important people in your life. It’s good to know they approve of him and the love he has for you. He hopes you’re as understanding and hopeful as your grandparents.

Saturday came as a surprise to him. The roosters weren’t the ones to wake him up, it was your grandpa who excitedly told him to gather all his things. Jaehyun tried to question what was going on but the elder gave him no time. His hearty laugh was enough of an answer, taking the few suitcases he saw in the corner while pushing Jaehyun into the restroom to get ready. He’s not sure what’s going on but he won’t protest, it’s the first time this week that he feels included.

Within half an hour everyone was ready, Jaehyun noticed you too were surprised by the sudden change of plans. You weren’t your usual put-together self and kept yawning resulting in you sleeping throughout the entire car ride. He took this moment to take pictures of the road. Previously he had compared it to his time in West America, he now doesn’t think it’s too comparable. The vegetation is bright and green, most of it coming from incoming crops and lively trees.

Within an hour your grandfather stopped at a town, it was time for breakfast. Both raved about the food despite how spicy it was while you and your grandmother made fun of them. Jaehyun took this chance to take more pictures, candid ones of you and your family with the prettiest decoration in the background. Every memory counts.

Afterwards, you all take a moment to explore the quaint town for a bit, simply so Jaehyun can get some souvenirs. It reminded him of two past towns he’s visited during his time here. One where he had to fight for a seat to be able to eat. Meal which ended up being one of the most disgusting things he’s ever had. He won’t ever tell the rest of you that but you share his sentiment. The second one being where your grandpa struggled to find parking and almost left. He likes that one better.

It’s not to say this town isn’t beautiful, it is. It’s historical, colorful, and calm. Very calm and quiet, something that reminds him of the best village which is where he resided for the past few months. How he loves it there and he’ll hold it to his heart.

Getting his pictures and souvenirs, it was set to take another two hours on the road, only stopping when having to use the restroom which unfortunately due to age is something your grandparents needed often. In those moments Jaehyun would reminisce on the day you two took those photos and bought Ollie’s truck, the one he saw daily perched next to the fine china in the cabinet with a passport picture of him. 

“Well here we are, the city I was born in.” Your grandfather’s voice made sure to take away the last bits of drowsiness from you. Your last visit was at fifteen and from the looks of it, nothing had changed. It’s amazing for Jaehyun to tell how different life was between the countryside and the city. The moment you all came to see the skyscrapers and bridges, it felt like a totally different part of the world. It was louder, much more polluted and littered, but for sure not horrendous. Your grandfather made sure to tell him the story of this city like he had done for every village and town visited. 

For the majority of the day you all spent it looking around. At the entrance, your grandparents pushed you to ride on the cableway that dropped you off directly downtown. You tried to make them get in it with you both but they excused themselves with being too old and preferring to meet you there with the car. You all knew it was so you and Jaehyun could spend a couple of minutes alone.

“It’s pretty.” “Not as pretty as home.” 

Jaehyun smiles at you, taking your hand into his. You return the gesture, squeezing his warm hand in yours. 

“Is your city pretty? I’ve heard it is.” 

“I’m not talking about where I’ll go back, Y/n. I’m talking about back home. With you, your grandparents, and Ollie.” He wraps an arm around your shoulder to pull you closer. Within you and the colorful buildings beneath, Jaehyun is sure to say the view during his time has always been beautiful.

“Do you truly want a life with me?” You shift, close yet with a distance. It was a simple answer, there’s no reason to lie. His smile, dimples, eyes, and even his reddened ears told you he did. Words are preferable though. “Yes.” leaves his rosy lips, kissing you to imprint the confirmation.

Only time will tell how true to his word he is.

You met your grandparents shortly, both bickering about where to reside when night befalls. The topic fell to deaf ears, prefering to explore more about the city. Murals that he wouldn’t forget, traffic as bad as where he resides with the exception that entertainment began the second redlights turn on. Street food that smells delicious and calls his name within every second. 

It’s similar yet so distinct from what he has learned to love. It’s clear to him that no matter how familiar you are to one thing, there will always be more to learn about it. 

It was near dinner time and within an hour or two from sundown. That forced your grandparents to argue again about the same thing from earlier. This time you two got to learn that your grandfather wanted to rest in his childhood home with his family while your grandmother wanted to avoid that at all costs. She’ll tolerate a visit but won’t give them the benefit of being their host, that’s her role. Not to mention she won’t forget all their wrongdoings towards her and her husband no matter how much the latter attempts to have a happy family.

Words thrown here and there, you all decree to eat out. Both you and your grandmother brought up the time his sister cooked unhygienically that he ended up having a stomach bug for the following three days. He laughs at this and leads you all to your favorite spot, somewhere Jaehyun yearns to taste again for years to come.

You all do end up visiting his family before the sun falls, a quick in and out situation. Jaehyun didn’t pay too much attention to the conversations, he was more entranced with the portraits on the walls and the cracks of chipped paint that told the story of this home.

“Why do you keep looking at the cracks?”

Your voice forces Jaehyun to turn to you, extending his hand to feel your warmth. “Do you think they’re due to poor care or the house growing old with its inhabitants? Your grandpa said he doesn’t recall the ones from this wall.” Your head tilts, looking at them as if you two were in a museum. Perhaps you should take him there tomorrow before his departure. 

“Will you write that in your book?” He laughs, taking you into an embrace. “Okay smarty pants how do you word it normally, then?” You return the gesture. “I wouldn’t even think about it for starters, there’s so many back home. Why would I care about this one?” 

“I’ve seen how much care you all give the home, there’s barely any cracks. The question is answered for that house.”

“Then… I guess you can find an answer for this one. We’ve been here for an hour or so and there’s plenty more people living here who haven’t greeted them at least.” 

You both turn to your grandparents. Grandma sitting silently and aggravated in the corner with a cup of water that she hasn’t touched. Your grandfather enjoys his talk with his sisters despite their spouses talking over and for them. His nephews and nieces, nowhere seen but heard through these same cracks Jaehyun wonders so much about. 

Yes, he has his answer. A house without love crumbles faster.

The sun had fallen sooner than expected and with that your grandmother finally found an excuse to leave. The other elders offered to let you all stay with no avail when even your grandfather told them it wasn’t necessary. He knew of a nearby hotel, clean, and hospitable that you could all stay at and his wishes were final. 

Immediately as the doors were closed behind your backs, the ruckus of the other four families living there could be heard. It’s clear as day where their intentions laid and why not a single picture of you or your family was on their walls.

When questioning why he denied their offer knowing other times he’d agree immediately, he only muttered a simple: “They didn’t even greet you or Jaehyun. What kind of hosts will they be?” Jaehyun felt a part of the family.

Room distribution went as follows. Your grandfather and Jaehyun would share a room, each with their own bed. Same thing applied to you and your grandmother, a concept you knew too well. This was the first and final night in which you two wouldn’t share a kiss through the bathroom window. You miss it like you’ll miss him.

The following morning isn’t as kind to either of you. The previous day none of you were able to process the severity that it was his final day with all of you. Enamored with what the city offered and the warmth of feeling loved by everyone within the circle, no one felt the harsh reality that is now overcoming you all. There’s ten hours left of his stay.  

Silence is the first thing that you all notice, no matter how hard you all try to erase it. Being aware that time is ticking weighs down on your shoulders. Walking through these streets feels slightly surreal. Like a Dali painting, walking through a sea of melting clocks. A torment is what he’d call it.

He manages to get a few more souvenirs, he’s not sure for who or if he’s trying his best to collect every single piece as a memory, he’ll lean towards the latter. Besides, he snags some final gifts for you, your family, and even Ollie, it’s the least he can do besides memories. He’ll be taking those and who knows when he’ll be able to show them to you all.

Within the fifth hour your grandparents rendered themselves tired and tried forcing you two to go on your own. Jaehyun didn’t want that, as much as he loves time with you, he also loves spending time with them. The two have taught him many things, brought many laughs and anecdotes he cherishes dearly.

To be maintained happy, he invites you all to a final dinner. It’s much earlier than usual but he would miss his flight if you’d have to wait till usual hours. Your grandparents attempt to protest, claiming they’re bad hosts if they let him pay but they’re fighting a losing battle and Jaehyun will make sure he can grant them everything before he goes back to reality.

It’s by far enjoyable and it helps him reminisce on all previous meals within those cold adobe walls he loved since day one. It’s dim in the restaurant, recalling the time it rained so hard the streets became rivers and light went out for the remainder of the day. You all ate under candle light while your grandparents told scary stories of the village.

Dinner was the only condition for you to leave your grandparents to rest. With all the heaviness in his heart, Jaehyun fulfilled their wishes. And while you thought it was best to leave them at the hotel, the two continued their stubborn streak and ended up sitting at a park to people-watch. Naturally, they needed live entertainment.

Three and a half hours left, so little time and so much left to do. 

You essentially were a tourist just as him, both experiencing new attractions that you only saw in passing the one time you came by. It led to both jumping from museum to museum. National and independent, art and history, for food and tools. It didn’t matter but it filled the empty space and the forced silence helped neither of you spill what flooded your minds.

“I liked the tools museum better.” You retort, almost skipping down the steps to avoid the sun rays. It was much hotter than it ever had been back in town. “Really? I thought the history museum was really nice.” He covers his eyes, rushing to your side. “Nothing Pa hasn’t told you.” He nods, shrugging with a little shimmy to his shoulders.

He looks at his watch and sighs, there isn’t much time left. “Where to next?” His words form a pit in your stomach, forcing yourself to look at the numbers on it. You ignore it, dawning on you that you’ve never spoken in-depth about his job. What’s your thought process when coming up with your books?” 

He hums, “For my first books, they were all inspired by cases I heard back home. Where I was born. They’re bleak but there’s still a sense of hope. On top of it I read a lot of Dostoyevsky and Tolstoy growing up so I felt like a cynic comparing both their work, trying my best to create a middle ground that would represent me.” He cocks his head, it’s a bitter taste to him these days. 

“Those two lead to my last two. I’m not fond of them, I won’t lie. They’re rushed and robotic, it’s noticeable in the tone but the publishing house wanted something fast and since they sold well, they didn’t care about how I felt, that’s why I’m here now. They wanted this book to be rushed and as miserable as those but I can’t handle writing anything of the sorts anymore. I would’ve ended up like Plath, Hemingway or Dazai if I wrote about how miserable life is once again.”

Jaehyun couldn’t understand if the look on your face was pity or empathy, he didn’t want to see it. “Don’t worry about this one. I’ve found meaning and great inspiration. I’ll dedicate it to you.”

You laugh against his lips, pulling away to kiss his cheek. “How will I know when it’ll come out?” He shrugs, kissing your hand. “I don’t either but I’ll make sure to deliver the copy straight to you.”

“What makes you think I’ll still be here by the time it’s published?” 

Jaehyun was under the impression that you’d be here too. Your grandmother had reassured him they would always have their doors and arms open for him but he never thought that meant without you.

“I’ll find my way to you even if I have to go to the end of the world so I can read the token of my adoration for you.”

‘Of my love’ is what he wants to say, hanging on his tongue yet too scared to dive out. You seem to read his mind, kissing him instead to swallow what neither of you can say just yet.

 There was still some time left but nothing else worth seeing. Perhaps it was best to gather all your belongings from the hotel, you had the keys to the car and it shouldn’t take you too long. By this point it would be best to waste time at the airport, as dreaded as it is.

Upon arrival time made itself present. The father clock in the lobby allows its ticking to echo through the tiles that you love. The ones in each room weren’t any better. Screaming far louder than the rest that when Jaehyun finished packing his and your grandfather’s bag to make way towards your room, all he could hear was the ringing in his ears. Dreadful and painful as the feeling in his heart.

He watched you look through the night stands, making sure your grandmother’s medication wasn’t left behind. He had done the same for your grandfather, his medicine case tucked inside his bag. There’s a forlorn look in his eyes, you don’t miss it when turning to smile at him, comfortingly. You want to ask about it but fear it will consume you as well if you dwell on it.

“Ready?”

Jaehyun shakes his head, joining you on the bed and taking you in a tight embrace. In every sense he wasn’t ready to part ways. You try to laugh it off, kissing his cheek and tightening your grip. Your hands caressing his back to bring some type of comfort but it does the opposite.

Jaehyun can now understand why your grandfather breaks down so easily. The weight of one’s emotions are soon to leave when you allow yourself to be free. That may also explain why he’s always so joyful, he’s free of all his grievances but for Jaehyun it will follow him for eternity if things are not fixed as soon as possible.

“This isn’t the last time, Jaehyun… Please don’t cry.” You cradle his face, wiping away his tears that shine like diamonds under the sun rays peeking in through the window. He hiccups, sniffling to control his sobs. “It doesn’t change how difficult it is to say goodbye.” He pouts, lips so rosy and puffed. You kiss them tenderly for comfort and warmth, it’s the least you could do. Words aren’t your forte and you don’t want him to see how gutted you truly are despite trying to hold a front all this time.

Jaehyun returns the actions of affection, holding you for dear life while kissing you like no tomorrow. Muffled words leave him, incoherent to you yet you swallow them. Like the blood of Christ, you don’t let a blood drop if it means your salvation.

“I-I” He attempts to sound what he wants to say, you don’t allow him. Shaking your head fervently, slipping your tongue in the cavity of his mouth to mute him further. You know what he wants to say but if he does, it will make things far more difficult than they already are.

Jaehyun submits to your cowardice and lets the ticking of the clocks guide him. His hands hold your body near him, pulling you onto his lap to feel you closer. He wants more and so do you, God knows when you’ll meet again. 

Fingers threading through his hair, sliding down to his neck, kneading the warm skin you love so much. The actions lead to silent mewls to leave his lips for you to take. You’re so appreciative of the gift that you deepen the kiss, letting his hands roam under your blouse to feel you closer and closer. It’s your turn to gift him a sweet sound that he wishes he could trap into a music box for him to wind and listen to it on repeat daily.

Jaehyun decrees that your blouse is in the way. Too thick and cold, nothing like your skin as he feels now. His large hands take a firm grip of the textile, pulling it off. You’re exposed and he can read what your heart has hidden all this time. Jaehyun prefers to kiss it away, his pillowy lips delicately falling against your chest. Kissing it tenderly to create more of those pretty sounds that hypnotize him. 

You hold him while he does, kissing the crown of his head. Granting him what he wants while your hips softly rock against his, friction forcing him to become rougher. A soft gasp leaves your lips when he softly nips the goosebump filled skin, nimble fingers undoing your brazier. One hand covering one while his teeth take your nipple in between them.

“Jaehyun…” It’s all he wanted to hear. His tongue is warm against your tit, kissing it like his life depends on it. Perhaps it does, neither of you are sure but prefer to act like so. You on the other hand work on unbuttoning his shirt, the cool linen doing no justice to the warmth of his skin that you crave. Little by little you both feel closer to each other. 

He gently lays you down, between the warmth of your bodies and the sunrays witnessing your farewell ritual, the cold had nothing against you. You watch him, admiring every crevice of his body while pushing off your bottoms, leaving you bare for him to gawk at while unbuttoning his pants. 

Your giddy smile teasing him to hurry, giggles reinforcing the sentiment. Taking his shaft in between his warm hands, Jaehyun begins to pump slowly. You attempt to replace his hands with your own which he denies. Your touch will send him overboard without even beginning.

Instead he crawls on the bed and over you, kissing you like he always does. With sweet adoration and love, one you take thankfully. You make sure to cradle his face, his upper body in contact with yours as his fingers thread closer in between your legs. The digits waltz around your inner thighs, reminiscing on the path you and him often took to the plaza and market for your daily shopping trips.

He smiles into the kiss, the memories of all he’s experienced with you consuming him. The position alone brings him to that day at the hot spring where you two began this but never got to go further. The wait was over and he had you here. Caged between his arms, flesh against flesh, warmth radiating and your pretty sounds that he couldn’t get enough of. 

Slowly his fingers intrude the cavern between your legs, a gasp leaving your lips that helped him deepen the kiss. His tongue enters your mouth, finding yours immediately to participate in a waltz where the two could share the words that neither of you were strong enough to share. His fingers curl and pump languidly within you. The action is so foreign and long forgotten that you feel like putty beneath him. 

His name falls from your lips like a prayer, warm breath danced across his skin. Lips perfectly wrapping around the flesh of his red earlobe. He’s so sweet and easy to digest, you wish to swallow him so he never leaves you but you know that can’t be so you will make do with what these few minutes can bring to you.

It’s not far off that he takes his fingers out of you, sticking his tongue out to savor you. Just as sweet as you find him. He moans in delight, rubbing off the dripping essence on his throbbing cock that had earlier been rubbing up against your leg. Jaehyun looks directly at you while pumping himself once again. You no longer look playful but rather hungry and desperate. You needed him like one would need air. Like an addict needs their fix and you fear yours will be taken away from you once you’re both done. The ticking clocks are making it boldly aware.

His eyebrows turn up, eyes softening as if asking if you’re ready. You nod as a response, replacing his hand and continuing his strokes, dragging him downwards slowly in the process. He knew if you touched him he would be thrown overboard, he’s near it but he’ll try to last just for you. And for the sake to excuse being together for longer.

Jaehyun fixed his position above you, nudging your legs minimally to fit between them. He went in slowly, bit by bit. Avoiding any discomfort that he could bring you. You pay him with pleasured moans and kisses to shut yourself up, he graciously takes them. 

“I–” he wants to say it, he wants to tell you how much he loves you. This feels like the perfect time. You shot him down again with that sweet smile of yours, shimming your hips to which he responds by beginning his thrusts. They’re gentle and steady, enough to make you feel something that you’re only able to describe through silent mewls. He holds you tightly, pulling one of your legs above his hip. Jaehyun tries everything to feel you closer, he wants to go deeper and deeper to no avail, his thrusts can only go so far and it makes him yearn for the possibility that he could have more of you but so little time and resources to figure it out.

Jaehyun can’t believe this is it. He’s thankful this is the memory of you he’ll take with him, he’ll cherish it with every fiber in him, treasuring it like one would the eucharist. All he could think about was how wonderful you felt and how perfect your body molds to his. If this isn’t a sign that you’re meant for each other then he doesn’t know what is. 

He worships you in these moments and will continue to do so when he’s gone. He now understands the feeling devotees feel when finding their God and as sacrilegious as it is, Jaehyun’s mind won’t change. He loves you, he loves you, he loves you…

And most of all you feel his love within you. It manifests itself through tears streaming down your cheek, moans muddled with sobs that he can’t decipher to stop and comfort you or continue his thrusts. You answer for him, begging him to keep going, that you’re so close but he knows there’s more to those words besides lust.

He prods, kissing you, being the one to beg this time to let him know what was wrong but you smile and kiss him along. Leaving a trail of kisses along his jugular and shoulders, hands grasping to his flesh for dear life.

“My sweet girl.. Please tell me what’s wrong? Y/n, I lo–” “I love you, I love you, I love you! I love you, Jaehyun.”

Jaehyun’s thrusts speed with every repeated word, elated to hear you say what he has wanted to all this time. To hear you spew the words he finally had the courage to let out. For you to hear and engrave in your heart and brain the way he has done so with your own.

He smiles, kissing you with a final thrust. Pulling out to place the proof of his love on your cramping stomach, the pain leaving when you, yourself release. Without a care for the mess, he lays on you, craving your warmth and touch.

“I love you too. More than you’ll ever know or understand.” The whisper pollutes the room, kissing you to cement the sentiment. You sigh, kissing the crown of his head, cradling his body against yours. If it was up to you, you would not mind dying like this. With the city’s racket as background noise, your heart palpitating against his ear, and his breathing the anecdote to tranquilize you.

Time wasn’t forgiving, his departure time was coming sooner than ever. Reluctantly, both pull away for a quick shower. It felt surreal how slow time felt when enthralled within the love you both had for each other but when reality hit, it rushed you all through the motion. Picking up your grandparents from the park, driving in silence to the airport while dealing with some traffic and the static of the radio. All of this just to arrive at the airport with minutes to spare and for the universe to not understand the pain you all felt.

It’s surreal how cruel and love can be.

“I guess this is it, huh?” Jaehyun is the first to break the silence, holding back his sobs, the redness of his nose and ears give him away. Your grandfather laughs, nodding as he takes him into a hug in which both men break down in a fit of cries. Your grandmother gives you a look, she wants to say something snarky but her tough exterior proves futile when even she feels a weep stuck in her throat. 

“You’ll contact us, right?” Your grandfather wipes his nose, sniffling while smiling warmly at the younger. Jaehyun nods, taking out his pocket book, scribbling his address for you all to send him letters. He doesn’t need yours, he has it saved by memory.

Your grandmother is second in hugging him, slipping in a bill for him to buy something back home. Both know it’s useless where he’ll go but he’ll cherish it as a memory from her just like the box of cigarettes your grandfather had gotten him. He doesn’t smoke but a token of love is a token of love. 

The elder woman pats his cheek, smiling at him tenderly. She hopes this isn’t the last time she’ll see him but she more so than anything hopes he doesn’t disappoint you after this departure. 

“Take care.” 

It leaves you at last. No more to say, no more actions to show. You just hope he comes back to you as promised. 

“I’ll miss you.” Your fingers fiddle with the paper in hand, his pretty handwriting hypnotizing you to believe this moment isn’t real.

“I love you.” That’s enough to call your attention. His palm cradles your face and he steals a quick tender kiss. Embarrassment of having done so in front of your grandparents floods you, you only hope they understand which they do.

“I love you too…”

You had all drowned the calling from the greeter at the door earlier on but things had to be done and reluctantly you both let go. Watching him enter that path had taken a piece of you and when he was out of view, your entire body felt like it would crumble.

You tried your darndest to not cry. To not show your grandparents how much his departure was hurting you. Futile is what they would call it, your sobs were becoming louder as your grandfather drove back home, hoping to get there before night caught up to you all. 

Nothing good ever comes out of crying. You’ve known this for a while, for you and your grandmother crying only continues to further make you miserable. Not like the relief it brings your grandfather and Jaehyun, that’s something you think you’re both cursed on.

It wasn’t too far on the road that you kept missing him. Regretting not carrying the film strip with pictures of you both to look at him at every moment now. Your only token of his existence came from the piece of paper between your fingers. Flapping around with the harsh air coming in from your grandfather’s rapid driving.

You believe it smells like him, Jaehyun’s soft musk that you love with all your being. It’s even warm from his grasp, and his pretty handwriting taunts you, letting you know it was permanent on it unlike with you. The paper will remember Jaehyun’s actions against it, it has proof, not like you who will rot at the fact that his actions can be erased easily. What’s worse is that the paper continues to torture you, freeing itself from your fingers and flying out of the car at a rate that even if your grandfather stops you won’t catch up to it nor find it.

“No!”

Your words are useless and frightening to be heard from the elders who question what happened. You tell them between sobs, losing all composure. Hunching over yourself to cry against your knees. This was it, you knew it was too good to be true. Your only hope relies on the letter Jaehyun will send you.

Letters that will never arrive.

Questions. There’s plenty of those that have plagued Jaehyun’s mind since he left. He remembers leaving on great terms but as the months progressed his letters were left unanswered. If he had taken in the home phone number or Gabby’s he’d call for them years ago. Instead he found himself at the front door of the place he once called home with a panic rushing through his blood stream but hopeful nostalgia in his heart. 

There was a doorbell outside of the patio door, it had been painted orange. Very fluorescent, it reminded him of Gabby’s store. He had passed by it on his way here, buying a few beers like the day he learnt he had to go back. She didn’t remember him and he made no effort to remind her. Some things are better left in the past.

He didn’t hear many animals inside and it worried him, scared of how much change had been done. It took a couple of minutes for the door to be answered. Received by the presence of a kid he didn’t know but seemed to be around three years old.

“Who?” He looks at Jaehyun quizzically, tilting his head like Ollie used to do. “Um… is Mr. and Mrs–”  “Don’t open doors, how many times do I have to tell you that!” 

Well there’s a voice he recognized. Jaehyun stood up straight, looking up from the kid to the owner of the voice. When both took in the image of the other, Ollie was the first to take Jaehyun into an embrace. So much giddiness and joy in his squeal that he felt like that nineteen year old again. Even his grasp is childish and brute, shaking Jaehyun around. Jaehyun laughs, squeezing Ollie in return.

“I didn’t think you’d ever come back! When did you get here?” The patio looked the same. Fewer sheep and goats in the pen, Camila was gone and replaced with a pig. The dogs were strangers to him and the cats seemed to have forgotten him just like the chickens.

Ollie led him to the kitchen, at least that remained the same and he felt comforted by that fact. The two took a seat not far from each other, firewood crackling in the chimney to bring them warmth. Jaehyun handed him a beer bottle, cheering for his return and Ollie’s growth. 

“Why didn’t you think I’d return? I promised you all I would.” Jaehyun smiles, wiping away the alcohol residue from his lips. Ollie shrugs, doing the same. “You never kept in contact so after a few months of not getting your letters we lost hope. I was really mad at you for the longest time… I thought you had just abandoned us… Y/n.”

Jaehyun is aware of the spite in his tone but he can’t help but feel vindicated for something that isn’t true. His eyebrows furrow, leaning over the table for Ollie to feel his confusion. The younger one tilts his head like the boy from earlier.

“Ollie, I kept sending letters nearly every week for the past five years. I thought you all were the ones to leave me in the cold. What do you mean I didn’t keep in contact?” The roles seemed to have reversed. Ollie mimicked Jaehyun’s stance, elbows on the table while downing the remains of his drink.

“We never got a single letter. Pa was so disappointed he cried often about it. Ma didn’t but it was obvious in the way she took care of her plants. Your departure was enough but you really hurt them after that, they saw you as a son, you know.” Ollie shakes his head, swatting a fly away to avoid looking at Jaehyun.

“And Y/n… you really ruined her, Jaehyun. She would spend days in your room hoping to find an address or a phone number. At least to reproach your actions but instead she would cry herself to sleep in there. Her parents had to take her back home after a year, so she found a job and Ma and Pa were taken in by their daughter. She was doing better by then but still had to stay in the city just in case. They left me to take care of the house but it’s not the same.” 

Ollie’s voice is no longer harsh, it’s hurt. Jaehyun can’t help but blame himself with how things unfolded but he was sure he wrote those letters. He kept copies of them to recall everything he once said to you and them and if he had known you never received them, he would’ve bought them.

“I-I…” He sighs, “I promise I sent the letters! I made sure to drop them off at the publishing house’s mailing room. I can’t believe this…” His hand comes to his forehead but Ollie shrugs, picking at some peanuts he had laying around. “Beats me then. Why didn’t you visit in that case? We waited long enough.” 

Reality is that there will always be evil lurking around and seeing how this place brought you joy and peace, the publishing house did everything in their power to yank it away from him. Jaehyun isn’t a bubbling author full of life and hope. No, Jaehyun is a bleak cynical writer who dwells on the hatred he has for the house and manifests it through broody characters that find no meaning in life. If they had to bring that back, they would. He can have his one train wreck of a joyful book but newcomers have to go back to what they were. 

Jaehyun’s head hangs low, all excuses feeling useless. “Manger and publisher didn’t let me. We spent two years editing the final draft and by the following, publishing was in the works but the investors tried everything to change it that we had to fight for another year or so. I wasn’t even allowed to visit my parents, they had to come to me. Isn’t that insane?”

Ollie nods, sympathy and pity muddling on his face. Cruelty at its finest.

“We only traveled for promotions at the end of last year once it was published and some months after this one but I ‘escaped’ if you will and here I am.” His smile twists to the side, dawning upon him that misery will accompany him everywhere he goes.

“I’m sorry.” 

“For what? It’s not your fault.” Jaehyun hands him another bottle. Ollie nods, “I know, but things could’ve been different if you didn’t work in hell.”

The two laugh, clinking their bottles again. All was lost but one thing and that was the hope of Ollie helping him connect with you and explain it all. He didn’t want you to have such a bad image of him when all he’s ever done is show you how much he loves you.

“What have you done with your life then?” “I got married and had a kid. The brat from out there.” 

The kid had been playing with the hens outside the sprint door. Cats surrounded him and reminded Jaehyun of Ollie when he used to play with the animals while pretending to be doing labor work. 

“Looks just like you.” The younger hums. “He’s just like me too.” The two laugh heartily, reminiscing on your grandfather’s laugh. 

He hesitates for a moment but ultimately asks. “How’s Y/n doing?” There’s longing in his voice but the look in Ollie’s eyes tells him something isn’t right. The fact that he’s holding back a cough, a grave clue. The younger one wants to stall but knows that eventually he’ll find out if he keeps looking. 

“Y/n is soon to get engaged…” Like a bucket of cold water, Jaehyun feels his arteries clog and his body run cold, turning stone hard. “She’s been seeing a guy from work for the past two years, they relocated him to somewhere in Maranello, and now they’re living there. He sent a letter asking me to be there for when he proposes… I got the letter yesterday actually.” 

Ollie handed him the letter still inside the envelope. “He’s a nice guy but lacks some sense. He treats her well and provides for her but I’m not sure if it’ll thrive.” 

The now father stands up with a bucket of corn kernels, calling his child to feed the chickens while they’re all huddled together. He gives Jaehyun one last look with a mischievous smile plastered on his face.

“You’re welcome to stay, in your old room or here.” Jaehyun thanks him. “Landline has long overseas calls now, do with that as you will.” A toothy reassuring grin, Ollie walks out of the home leaving Jaehyun to his vices.

He gives the boys one last look, gaze dropping to the letter and reading over it around four times. It lacks emotion, it’s formal and only demonstrates excitement when describing your work on the garden. The only thing that reminds you of this place now that you’re miles away. Behind it is a letter written by you.

‘Very well, I’ll send you a care package later, Ollie. I wanted to remind you that we have a new phone so I’ve written it down. Don’t forget to write it down in the contact book or you’ll have to find a way to call me this time!

I love you, Gremlin, take care!

Sincerely, Y/n.’

If the angels weren’t clear as day, then he was stupid if he didn’t take the opportunity. 

Jumping out of his seat to the bar, Jaehyun stumbles to grab the phone, nothing like Gabby’s old dinky phone. He dials the foreign numbers, fingers tracing over your written name to feel the connection you did with the paper that lasted you a measly few hours.

“Hello?”

That sweet voice transported him five years to the past. Trembling within the walls of his brain and heart, waking up whatever joy he once felt before leaving this wonderful place. Even when your voice seemed aggravated from the silence on his end while garnering courage, he felt alive again.

“Hello?!”

He sighs, clutching to the phone for dear life, facing the outside allowing the sun rays to fall on him like the day he rested over your exposed body to feel your heart and soul envelop him in the love you once –and he hopes you still have– had for him.

“Y/n–” “...” 

The hesitance hurts, old feelings swarming in like a desired plague. You won’t ever forget that voice.

“Jaehyun…” “I remember everything.”

[strawberry-nugget]

Synopsis: Your stomach drops. Because he’s right. You didn’t mean for this to go this far—but you didn’t stop it either. And he knows it. He knew that one day you’d crack.

Pairings: Izuku x reader, married!Bakugo x reader

Tags // Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, smut, office sex, p in v sex, cheating (but not really, no spoilers tho), m! masturbation, sleazy-ish Izuku, talks about reader & katsuki having a baby, slight angst (for Izuku) bc of the ending, big huge plot twist, do NOT hate me for this lol. Bear with me and don’t click out😂 All characters are 20+

Izuku is out of breath. Sweating beady droplets down his face, chest, his glasses are foggy even if they’re still pushed to his forehead, one handle almost broken—he knows he’s gonna have to need a new pair by tomorrow. However with his chest heaving underneath you, he couldn’t care less.

“We—ngggggh— shouldn’t be doing this” you gasp

“Oh, oh you’re— i fffucking know”

Fundamentally, you’re right. You know it deep down, in your gut that this is sinister, evil. You're both two huge iredeemable assholes for doing this. Because there’s a small crucial detail that stalls between you right now. Katsuki is your husband. Izuku’s best childhood friend. There should be no excuse as to why he’s balls deep inside you right fucking now.

You were only supposed to drop by to try and talk to him, convince him to accept Katsuki’s offer to take that enhanced suit and be a hero again. Not fuck him like your life depends on it.

How you ended up on top of him, bouncing on his lap, his leaking dick seethed inside you in his cluttered, dim office, straddling him in his goddamn work chair like it’s the most natural thing in the world, is beyond both of you.

You’ve always been kind to him. Since basically infancy, you always stood up for him. Always helped him, sweet talked him. He was the only person who knew you wanted to get into UA and at one point you were the only person other than All Might who knew how he obtained his quirk. You always put yourself between him and Katsuki, often scolding the blond for his behavior, even stopped hanging out with him after the swan dive line. It was only natural that he formed a crush on you. One that he tried to hide away and shove inside himself for years.

You never told him that you’d shared your first kiss with Katsuki in middle school (and many others after that, before and after the swan dive incident), never talked to him about your first time with Katsuki in his dorm before the war. You just popped up in public together that one day in the hospital and absolutely demolished his heart. He had to be the best man at your wedding because he was your oldest friend, for both of you.

And now? Now you whimper into his shoulder as his hands crush your hips down harder, and Izuku let’s out something like a chuckle. Soft. Dry. Bitter.

“Oh, now you feel bad?” he pants, head tilting back against the worn leather. “Didn’t seem like you felt bad when you were begging for it two minutes ago.”

“Izuku—”

He cuts you off with a sharp thrust, his smirk cruel but so tired. "Nah. You don’t get to act shocked. You came here wearing that pretty little blouse. You sat on my couch like you knew I’d crack. So don’t pretend this just... happened.” His fingers tag on the ripped hem of your blouse, chuckling down on how it looks like a subtle reminder of what it once was.

Your stomach drops. Because he’s right. You didn’t mean for this to go this far—but you didn’t stop it either.

And he knows it.

He knew that one day you’d crack.

Now, your pretty pussy, the one he could only ever imagine, is taking every thrust of his cock like a champ. It’s sucking him in your saccharine walls. Snug and warm and perfect.

His hands snake up your spine, slow and possessive, like he wants to memorize the way you feel under his fingertips. Like he wants to carve you into his memory before it all goes to shit.

“I should stop,” he says. “I want to stop. But I can’t. Not with you like this. Not when I’ve wanted you longer than I’ve wanted anything.”

You don’t reply.

Both you and Katsuki have tried to push him to Ochako, given him lectures on how he should man up and just do it. And in all righteousness he should have. He thinks he ought to have accepted that you are married to his best friend for years. That you were planning an even bigger future than just your marriage. Setting up a nursery. Last week, when he visited him at UA. Katsuki told him you were trying for kids.

For fuck’s sake he should have gone for Ochako. Melissa. Anyone else but you. He should have let it go.

But no one could ever have one up on you.

Izuku has always wanted you.

It’s not just lust. It’s not just love. It’s something uglier than that. Something deeper, deformed with claws and teeth, something that’s been sinking into the marrow of his bones since he was thirteen years old. Since the first time you pulled him and Katsuki —the latter by the ear— behind the school and defended him with tears in your eyes and your fists clenched, shaking. Since he watched you break down in tears that day when Katsuki refused to walk you home and only guessed the reasoning behind it when you forgave him the next second.

He hated you a little bit for it. Hated how kind you were. Hated how much you looked at him like he was good and still chose Katsuki.

Hated how hard it was to let you go.

So now he’s fucking you like he’s punishing you for it.

Your knees are starting to burn against the office chair cushion, but you don’t dare fucking stop. Not with the way his fingers are digging into your ass. Not with the way he looks up at you—hair stuck to his forehead, forest green pupils blown wide, mouth parted like he’s watching a miracle fall apart in front of him.

You moan, and he leans forward, catches the sound with his tongue in your mouth, eats it up like it’s the last thing he’ll ever be allowed to have. His kisses burn against your mouth. And you’re still so reluctant to give in.

“I should’ve told you,” he breathes between frantic kisses “earlier”

You thread your fingers through his wet curls, yank his head back just enough to make him hiss.

“You didn’t,” you whisper.

“I wanted to,” he says, “but you looked so happy. I figured if I waited long enough, I’d stop wanting you or you’d eventually break up with Kacchan”

You clench around him without meaning to, and he shudders, desperately hard.

“Don’t fucking call him that, you don’t deserve to right now, sweetheart”

You’re right. Katsuki spent thousands on that suit because he loves Izuku dearly and here he is, fucking his wife. The wife Katsuki is so doting of. The wife Katsuki adores more than anything else. His childhood sweetheart.

Izuku’s childhood sweetheart, missed by a fraction.

You roll your hips slow, and the noise Izuku makes is practically animalistic. And fuck he feels so good inside you, hitting every spot, every curve of your cunt even with just a stutter of his hips.

Your tummy is burning, coiling internally in shapes of pleasure and you know you’re close. You shouldn’t be. You shouldn’t be falling apart like this on the cock of the man your husband would take a bullet for. But your body betrays you, slick and fluttering, choking down each punishing thrust like you were made for him. Your cunt is melting in the shape of him and only him as his mushroom tip bullies the ridges of your cunt.

Izuku feels it. Hears it in the way your breath hiccups, sees it in the desperate flex of your thighs around his waist, the way your nails claw into his traps like you’re trying to anchor yourself to something real.

He grabs your ass, drags you forward harshly and down, makes you take every inch until his throbbing tip presses so deep, you see white behind your eyelids. You practically scream at the feeling, but he doesn’t let up. Just rolls his hips again, and again, until you need to bury your face into the crook of his neck so you don’t look at him.

Still. Your moans are embarrassingly loud now, and Izuku doesn’t shush them. Doesn’t slow down. If anything, he fucks you harder, chasing the sound, dragging impossibly more out of you. One hand flies to your throat again, not choking, just holding, so you can meet his eyes—like he’s actually daring you to pretend this means nothing.

Like he wants to feel your pulse thrum under his palm, wants proof that he is inside you.

Your eyes roll back, mouth open in a silent cry as your orgasm starts to threaten to burst and he knows it. Feels it in the tremble of your core, the breathless chant of half-formed curses.

“Fuck—you’re gonna cum on my cock,” he pants, voice half-wrecked, yet still so soft and sweet. hips pistoning up his cock inside your tight cunt like a machine. “You’re gonna let me fuck you through it babe?”

You sob against his mouth, and he grins, dark and mean and aching.

Your body spasms, cums hard around him, sleek dripping down onto his balls, with a guttural moan torn straight from your sweat covered chest. He watches your face like he wants to burn it into his brain forever—eyelids fluttering, lips parted in the shape of an ‘o’, thighs clamped tight around him, pussy milking him for everything he has.

Being inside you feels like absolute heaven.

But he wants to ease you through it while he still hammers his hips inside you, opting to bring a finger in between your tight laced bodies to pinch at your clit, hard.

He watches you break and burns the image in his mind indefinitely.

Izuku sees the way your whole body jerks—twists against him, legs trembling from overstimulation as your cunt tries to push him out, fluttering with every brutal thrust. But he doesn’t let up. Doesn’t slow, doesn’t even breathe right, because he’s chasing it—chasing the way you shake and sob into his freckled shoulder like you hate yourself for how good it feels.

His finger still works your clit in ruthless, tight little circles, dragging your orgasm out until it’s messy. Until it’s mean. Slick squelches between you obscenely, dripping down over his thighs and the leather of the seat. You’re trembling, shaking so hard now it’s a miracle you’re still upright.

He doesn’t care enough to slow down.

“You take it so fucking well,” Izuku mutters, breath hot and sticky against your ear, lips finding your earlobe and sucking, sinking his teeth in, his tone somewhere between awe and something condescending. “Like you want me to ruin you.”

“Bet he doesn’t fuck you like this,” he grits out, and there’s something sharp behind it—something bitter and broken and barely held together. “Bet he doesn’t even touch you like this anymore.”

You shake your head, incoherent. “He does. He’s so fucking good to me. Don’t talk about him right now. Please”

His voice is cracking now. Just a little. You wouldn’t catch it if you weren’t still so close—if his chest wasn’t rising hard and fast against yours like he’s panicking underneath it all.

“I shouldn’t have waited,” he breathes against your temple, his rhythm faltering as his cock starts to throb violently inside you. “I shouldn’t have let you go.”

Your thighs are trembling now.

The chair beneath you creaks with every movement, unstable and barely holding, but Izuku’s grip is the only thing anchoring you. His hands never stop moving—fisting the fat of your hips, sliding over your spine, branding the curve of your waist like he’s trying to leave fingerprints in your soul.

You cry out as he drives up into you again, the slick sound of skin against skin echoing off the filing cabinets and scattered gear prototypes, the whole office pulsing with heat and sweat and betrayal. He watches your body move fascinated and furious. Your blouse is a ruined thing now, hanging off one shoulder, one sleeve caught under his boot. He yanks the fabric down further until your chest spills out, and his mouth is on you instantly, sucking hard enough to leave a mark that’ll be impossible to explain later.

His teeth graze your nipple, and your hips buck. One arm snakes around your back, holding you flush, and the other slips between your bodies, hand dragging low, knuckles brushing your clit with the same reverence he used to hold hero relics in the dorms.

Except now he groans against your skin like this—you are— the holy thing.

There’s a sick rhythm to it. Something that feels too practiced, too perfect—like he’s imagined it a thousand times. In the dark, in the shower, in hotel beds in missions, while you were sleeping down the hall beside Katsuki.

The worst part is the way it feels. The way your body responds to him like it was made for this; grinding down, fluttering cunt sucking him deeper, your nails raking angry little crescents into his shoulders that make him grunt and groan.

Izuku’s head falls back against the chair, jaw clenched, throat flexing with restraint he doesn’t have the strength to hold onto.

His cock twitches inside you, and you feel it—feel the tension ratcheting up, the quiet breaking point edging closer. His stomach muscles jump under your palms, his breath coming faster, ragged, broken up by soft, desperate gasps he keeps trying to swallow down.

You don’t know what’s worse—the pleasure or the guilt.

He thrusts up harder. Sharper. There’s no rhythm anymore, just raw, primal, lust ridden drive. Like if he fucks you hard enough, the shame will burn away with it. But it doesn’t. It only gets thicker in the room. You can smell it between the sweat and the sex. Feel it in the way his fingers tremble when he presses them between your legs again, flicking over your clit with ruthless intent.

You clench around him so tight it punches a groan straight from his chest, and that’s it—he loses the very last scrap of self-control. He grabs the back of your neck, pulls you down into a kiss that’s all tongue and teeth and guilted pain. His hips stutter. Then slam again and again until the chair jerks backward half a foot, banging into the desk.

You can barely breathe. Barely think.

He’s so deep it aches. So deep it feels like you’ll never get him out again.

Izuku buries his face in your shoulder when he cums—hard, hot, drawn out and full-body. His arms wrap around you like he’s bracing for a bomb to go off, like if he holds you tight enough, maybe this moment can exist without consequences.

But it won’t.

You both know it.

Because when he pulls back—sweaty hair in his eyes, lips swollen, chest rising and falling like he’s just survived a war—he looks at you like you’ve just killed him.

His thumbs press under your jaw, your heartbeat wild against them.

“You’ll go back to him like none of this ever happened.” He pants against your lips.

You want to say no. Want to say this means something. But your mouth won’t open. Your body is betraying you in a thousand tiny ways.

Izuku’s gaze darkens.

“Tell me I’m wrong,” he says. “Tell me you’ll leave him.”

“Izuku, I won’t leave my husband” you speak, finally, voice as steady as you can manage and then you whisper “I love Katsuki so much”

“You’re still gonna wear his ring after this?” he asks suddenly, mouth curved in something you can’t quite read as his cock finally softens enough to slip out of you. “Gonna go home and let him kiss you with my cum still inside you?”

“—Zuku?” 

Oh the way you say his name; it’s dripping like warmed up honey from your watery lips. It makes it hard to tame the beast that growls inside him when you chant the syllables like a mantra.

He wants to—

“Izuku?” you say again, voice tilting into concern now. You reach forward to touch his hand, still pressed onto the plastic handle of the chair “You good? You zoned out a bit.”

He flinches like he’s been shot.

“No,” he says too quickly. “No—I’m. Fine. Sorry. Just—tired.”

Fuck. He blinks once. Twice. You smile at him now. Innocently unaware of what his head just made up right now.

Your legs are crossed, tucked modestly under you. Not split open over his thighs. Your shirt’s buttoned all the way up. Not ripped. Your hair is in place. There’s no sweat, no guilt, no scent of sex in the air.

“If there’s something wrong you can speak to me.”

“No it’s fine i—” he begins to speak but you cut him off, a faint, awkward smile gracing your lips.

“I really don’t mean to pressure you with the suit. But Katsuki said you’d listen to me. It’s taken such a toll on him and I can see it, he just spends all his time at home trying to do anything with his hands. He finished the nursery. Set up a whole crib too. My poor baby… he wants a kid so much and my hormonal therapy is still not even halfway through. I just figured you taking the suit would push him to feel a little relieved.”

Izuku can’t fucking breathe, but he moves from the chair to the couch by your command, struggles to compose himself as your hands cradle both of his in your grip. You’re looking at him with those big, desperate eyes, those fantasy driven parted lips. 

He gulps as he glances down at your denim skirt, when he sees your plush thighs and soft skin poke through the fabric, rubbing against each other.

For a second he’s back there, in his head. Caressing your thighs with his knuckles, eliciting the softest, most guttural and loud moans from your lips.

“And I also want you to tell him that everything will be alright. He panics every time we go to the doctor. He thinks that he’s failing to give me a baby when we both agreed we’d have one at twenty five. But this is all me, not him, I was almost cut in half during the war.” Your eyes are filled to the brim with tears that are threatening to spill as you continue speaking “Please Izuku, please, help him too, I love him so much and he keeps thinking it’s his fault.”

The room feels like it’s caving in around him. His skin prickles with sweat that shouldn’t be there. His fists curl uselessly into the couch cushion beneath him, nails biting into the fabric. He’s still half-hard under his sweats, humiliation coiling hot in his stomach, shame crawling up his spine like mold.

You’re looking at him like you always have. Gentle. Completely unaware.

Not the woman who had just fucked him senseless in his fantasy. Not the one who whispered that she’d never leave Katsuki with his cum still dripping from her thighs.

Izuku blinks. He really is trying to keep his eyes locked on yours instead of your perfect looking tear-pricked lashes or the hem of your skirt, or where your thighs kiss each other too softly for him to stand it. He inhales too fast through his nose and coughs.

And the worst thing is you’re still holding his hands because you trust him. Like he isn’t falling apart in front of you. Because you don’t feel your skin burning in his touch like he does feel for you.

“Y-Yeah,” he breathes, voice breaking against the silence. “Of course. I’ll tell him.”

Your thumbs stroke the back of his palms, soothing, smiling all the way as your face breaks in ugly tears.

Naïve. You’re so naive and oblivious. He wishes you’d stop. He wishes he could yank his hands away. He wishes he could bury his face in your lap, lift your skirt and pull your panties to the side, eat you out like he always wanted and forget all of this.

But he doesn’t move. Just lets you touch him. Lets himself rot inside your hands and the look behind your eyes.

His mind keeps dragging him back, to the burn of your thighs straddling his hips. The slap of skin. The desperate way you held his face as you came, whispering things that don’t exist outside his head. He can still feel the phantom squeeze of your cunt when you begged him to ruin you.

He shudders. It didn’t fucking happen. It never would happen. 

His best friend is probably creampieing you every single night, probably pushing it back inside, with his cock, his fingers. Whispering things to you about breeding you, giving you babies. Izuku even wonders if Katsuki fucked you before you came to visit him, if you’re walking with his cum stuffed inside you, only held back from it dripping down your thighs from the barrier of your panties.

He rubs his thumbnail to the inside of your palm, desperate for some friction. You mistake it for empathy. Squeeze his hands tighter.

“Thank you Izuku, I love him so much it’s impossible. That’s why I want you to take the suit, I just want to see him happy.”

Izuku’s heart cracks.

Because he’s selfish. Because all he wants is for you to stop talking about Katsuki. Stop crying for Katsuki. Just look at him instead. Like maybe he could give you something, even if it’s ugly and wrong and soaked in betrayal, like it could mend all those years he’s spent apart from you.

“I’ll take it,” he blurts. It comes out sharp, bitter on his tongue. You blink at him.

“The suit?” you ask.

He nods once. He doesn’t trust himself to say anything else.

Because the guilt is white-hot behind his eyes and your words still echo in his skull ‘my poor baby… he wants a kid so much…’

A kid. A crib. A fucking nursery.

And Izuku had just imagined splitting your pussy open in his lap, fucking you like he wanted to erase the fact that you belonged—were married— to someone else. To Katsuki. His best friend.

His mind drifts again. Not as vivid this time, but still dangerous.

You smile—god, why do you always smile like that?— and lean back, nodding in relief. “Thank you. I really think it’ll help. I’ll let him know. He’ll be so happy, Izuku.”

Izuku stares at your mouth as it forms his name. Katsuki will be so happy.

The phrase alone twists like a knife inside Izuku’s heart.

Because all he can think about is how you looked when you were riding him in his mind. How you said his name, not Katsuki’s. How you clenched around him like you’d been made to.

He can’t even seem to stop himself from these monstrous thoughts.

“Does Kacchan know how lucky he is?” Izuku states quietly, one hand detaching from your grasp to scratch the back of his head. He smiles softly, yet secretly, he flexes his bicep, hoping you’ll notice.

You don’t, but your brows furrow, one quirking up, just a little thrown. “Of course he does. He never lets me forget it.”

Izuku nods again. But he doesn’t smile this time.

He should pull away. Should stand up. Should put miles between you and him and his sick, fucked-up thoughts.

But your hands are still wrapped around his like they belong there.

And Izuku, for all the good he’s done in the world, can’t stop thinking about your ring. How it glints in the warm light of his apartment like a warning. How it presses into the top of his knuckle while you hold him like this. Like a reminder that none of this is real.

You sniffle and laugh softly, like you’re embarrassed by your own tears. “Sorry, I’m being a mess.”

“No,” he croaks. “You’re not.”

But he is.

He’s a mess of sweat and guilt and hard-on humiliation. A goddamn wreck. And you’re still looking at him like he’s someone you can count on. Like he isn’t unraveling at the seams, dick so painfully hard, just sitting next to you.

“Izuku…” you say again, gentler this time, and he finally looks up at you fully. “Thank you”

Your eyes are glassy. Red around the rims. Your mouth soft. Your whole expression just open and readable. Fucking hell…You don’t even know what you’re doing to him.

“Can you tell him to come over?” What? “He’ll be so happy to hear it from you, please!” 

Izuku’s breath catches in his throat, sharp and involuntary, like your words just punched through his chest and grabbed his heart with both hands.

Can you tell him to come over?

You’re smiling now—barely, but it’s real. Your voice is trembling with hope. You’re already pulling out your phone, thumbs moving with sweet, excited urgency, like this moment might be the first crack of sunlight after weeks of thunder.

And you’re asking him—him—to be the one to bring your husband to his apartment.

You don’t know what you’re doing to him.

You don’t know that he’s imagining that same smile tilted up at him, not Katsuki. That he’s spent months biting down fantasies until his jaw ached, trying not to let them surface—but he failed today. He failed hard. And now you’re sitting here, trusting him with the one thing he wishes he could rip from the world and keep for himself.

Katsuki.

Your husband. The love of your life. The man he was supposed to be a friend to, not betray in thought, not crave his girl like something that can be stolen

He can’t even speak. His mouth opens but nothing comes out—just static, lips parted in numbness.

You don’t seem to notice. Or maybe you do, but you’re giving him grace anyway, because that’s the kind of person you are. Too kind. Too blind.

You hold your phone up to him. “He said he’ll come over if you say it’s okay. You can just tell him it’s fine—please? He listens to you more than he listens to me sometimes.”

Izuku takes the phone like it’s poison in disguise.

He stares at Katsuki’s contact name glowing on the screen.

And he wonders how long he can keep this rotting secret inside his chest before it turns him into something unrecognizable.

His thumb hovers. Then he presses the call button. The phone starts to ring, and he hates himself a little more with each pulse.

Because no matter what Katsuki says when he picks up—whether it’s relief or laughter or love—Izuku will still be the man who, just ten minutes ago, imagined fucking his best friend’s wife into an office chair and coming so hard inside her he saw stars.

And when Katsuki’s voice answers, warm and gruff, saying a small ‘hey tsuki —my moon, you call each other moon— and is positive to dropping by in half an hour to hang out, Izuku wants to die. And you’re smiling so hard that Katsuki wants to join that he wants to die twice.

You press your forehead to the back of his hand. A small, grateful gesture.

And that’s what finally breaks him. Izuku pulls his hands back slowly, as if they’ve been burned.

“I need a minute,” he mutters. Voice hoarse. Jaw tight, fingernails scratching the corner of his jaw.

You blink, taken aback by the sudden change in demeanor. “Oh. Okay—do you want me to go—?”

“No,” he says too quickly, rising from the couch. “No. Just… sit. I’ll be back.”

He walks toward the bathroom with careful, even steps. Every one of them feels like walking away from something sacred. Every one of them feels like a betrayal. And there’s nothing sacred about absolute betrayal. Just pure dirt, filth in his soul.

He closes the door behind him and presses his forehead to the wood, eyes squeezed shut.

And when he reaches into his sweatpants to jerk himself off with trembling fingers—still half-hard, still aching with the ghost of you—he doesn’t even bother pretending it’s anyone else.

He just bites his fist, stifles a sob, and imagines you crying out his name instead.

~All rights reserved: @/strawberry-nugget, 2025. Please do not copy, over write or steal my work.

Likes, reblogs and comments are all appreciated equally

Dividers by @/cafekitsune

[sknyuz]

chasing the moon* | w.j.h. + x.m.h.

synopsis — you’ve always been chasing wen junhui—who introduced himself to you as moon junhui when he first moved into your neighborhood all the way from his hometown back in china, which made more sense in your current predicament—because jun was like the moon hanging just out of reach in the night sky. he was a constant in your life: familiar but distant, untouchable. and for years, you revolved around him without ever truly being seen under the same light. then, just as there moon finally begins to turn toward you, a star slips into your orbit. xu minghao—unexpected, radiant, and steady in a way you never knew you needed. now, with the moon finally within arm’s length and a star starting to burn brighter by your side, you’re left wondering which pull your heart will follow. pairing — junhui x reader x minghao genre — very loosely inspired by reply 1998 and the movie flipped, highschool au, a love triangle that doesn't get too complicated, coming-of-age, soft angst, light romance, one-sided pining → mutual slowburn (the endgame is pretty clear, i think) cw — unrequited love, emotional neglect, subtle jealousy, academic stress, skinship, a kiss word count: 9.2k now playing | apple cider by beabadobee | she wants me (to be loved) by the happy fits | akin ka nalang by the itchyworms | exile by taylor swift ft. bon iver | dark red by steve lacy | betty by taylor swift | daylight by harry styles | pretty boy by the neighbourhood | starlight (2521 ost)

note: finally !! this fic officially completes the members on my masterlist, i have now written for all 13 of my pookies <3 and leaving these two for last was a perfect set-up for a love triangle—something i have been eyeing to write about for a while. enjoy, my pookies !! i love starlight. unfortunately, the singer is problematic. so i suggest the cover by hyumin of xodiac instead lol (taglist at the end)

you met wen junhui the summer before sixth grade, barefoot on your front porch with an orange popsicle dripping down your wrist. he’d just moved in across the street with his mother. you watched as he set the box down on the porch and wiped his palms on his shorts. the handwriting on the cardboard was messy but clear—written in chinese characters you didn’t recognize then, squinting.

“what’s that say?”

“kitchen stuff,” he answered plainly, the words slow and a little stiff on his tongue. then he added, “my mom writes everything like that.”

his korean was careful—each syllable slightly rounded, like he was still getting used to the way they fit together. you noticed the lilt of something unfamiliar tucked beneath his voice, a faint accent that softened some vowels and sharpened others.

he stuck out a hand like he remembered it was something people did. “i’m wen junhui. but my parents said my name’s supposed to be moon junhui here.”

you blinked. “moon?”

he nodded. “like the one in the sky.” his voice dipped a little on sky, the accent peeking through, and for some reason, it made your chest flutter.

you didn’t quite get it back then, but you liked the way it sounded like something distant and important. so you said it again, quietly to yourself, as he picked the box back up.

“moon junhui, like the one in the sky.”

later that evening, you told your mom that you were going to marry the new boy across the street. she laughed and said, “at least bring him some food before proposing.”

so you did. or, well, your mom did. that week, she sent you over with a plate of mandu, and when jun opened the door, you almost tripped over your words.

“my mom made these,” you said, holding out the container. “she said... welcome to the neighborhood.”

he blinked at it, then blinked at you, taking it with one hand. “cool,”

and just when you turned around, cheeks burning, he added, “tell your mom thank you.”

after that, it became a rhythm. tupperware went out, tupperware came back, always filled with something new, a blend of korean-chinese dishes as your family’s own way of communicating—stir-fried lotus root, soy-sauce eggs, and jujube tea in the winter. your mom would beam, and you always offered to bring it over. sometimes he opened the door, sometimes his mom did. but it never stopped, and neither did you.

you started school that year with a thrill in your chest, already imagining how it would go—new erasers, fresh notebooks, and maybe, just maybe, junhui waving to you in the hallway between classes. that was enough to make your stomach flip.

but nothing, nothing, could’ve prepared you for the moment moon junhui walked into your classroom.

you were doodling in the corner of your planner when the door creaked open and the teacher looked up.

“we have a new student joining us today,” she said, smiling. “this is moon junhui. he just moved here, so i’d like someone to help him settle in.”

your pencil dropped to the floor with a soft clatter, your head jerked up. sure enough, there he was, standing right there at the front of the room—hands awkwardly clasped in front of him, bangs flopping in his eyes, that same worn-out backpack you recognized from their huge stash of things from the moving truck. your mouth fell open, and the boy looked just as stunned to see you, blinking once, twice, like oh.

and then his mouth twitched into what might’ve been a grimace—tight-lipped, slightly panicked—but you, in your hopeless little heart, registered it as a lopsided smile. a charming one, even. your heart did a cartwheel.

“any volunteers to show him around today?” the teacher asked.

your hand shot up so fast your chair wobbled beneath you. “i volunteer!” you squeaked, louder than you meant to.

a few kids giggled. your face burned, but you didn’t care. not when moon junhui was making his way toward the empty seat next to you, the one you definitely hadn’t saved on purpose (except you had, just now, while jun was introducing himself—shooing poor soonyoung away earlier with a whispered, “don’tcha think you’d like that seat by the window better?”).

he sat down quietly, and when the teacher turned to write on the board, you leaned over, trying to sound cool and not like your brain was melting. “you’re in my class?”

he nodded, eyes still a little wide. “didn’t know ‘till just now, either.”

you beamed like it was fate, while he blinked slowly, probably still trying to figure out if the look on your face was excitement or if you were about to sneeze.

either way, you decided right then: this wasn’t just going to be a good year. this was the beginning of something—your little heart didn’t know what that something was quite yet, but it was.

the start of your quiet orbit around moon junhui’s life.

one revolution at a time.

soon enough, jun grew taller. broader in the shoulders, and quicker with his smirks. his voice dropped one day in eighth grade and never rose again. his hair grew out, brown and messy and a little longer than most boys kept it—always flopping into his eyes, brushing past his eyebrows, that kind of effortless boyish mess that made him look like he belonged in a teen drama. he stopped wearing t-shirts with holes and started playing basketball with the neighborhood boys.

you, however, stayed the same—still orbiting moon junhui like he was your personal axis, still finding excuses to knock on his door. sometimes he let you sit on the curb with him after practice, his shirt sticking to his back with sweat and eyes glued to his flip phone as you rambled about school. sometimes he offered you half a banana milk. most days, he barely looked up.

but by freshman year, gravity had started to shift.

jun stopped leaving you the last sip of his banana milk, finishing it in two quick gulps without looking your way. he started walking home with the other boys from the basketball team, voices loud and rough and filled with inside jokes you weren’t part of. when you waved from your porch, he’d give a distracted nod—if he noticed at all. and on the days you gathered your courage to wait for him after school, he’d emerge with someone new at his side, laughter spilling from his lips, eyes already somewhere else.

still, you kept orbiting him—like a lone planet locked in quiet rotation, pulled in by a force you couldn’t name. drawn in spite of yourself, never quite able to land—pathetic, maybe almost embarrassingly, but never enough to stop.

like this morning, when your mom handed you a warm container wrapped in a dish towel and told you to bring it next door, and you didn’t even try to hide how fast you slipped your shoes on.

jun answered in sweatpants and bed hair, rubbing one eye with the back of his hand like he’d just rolled out of bed. he didn’t even greet you, just blinked down at the container in your hands, half-asleep and completely unbothered.

you stood there like a fool on his porch, heart thudding way too loud for how mundane the moment was. he was the cutest boy on earth and didn’t even know it—or worse, didn’t care. you were painfully aware of the way his hair fell into his eyes, the slope of his nose, how his voice came out scratchy when he finally muttered,

“what now?” like he hadn’t seen you just two days ago returning his mom’s glazed sweet potatoes.

your heart does a backflip. damn it.

“d-dan dan,” you stutter pathetically, holding the tupperware of noodles out. “and a note from my mom that says, quote, ‘your mother’s garlic green beans changed my life.’”

his mouth curved, finally. “that dramatic, huh?”

“you know how she is.”

he took the dish, the warmth of his fingers brushing yours for half a second longer than necessary—or maybe that was just your imagination again.

“tell her thanks,” he said, and you waited, just a little, like maybe he’d invite you in or ask about your day or say literally anything else.

of course he didn’t. jun just stepped back, one foot behind the other, and pulled the door halfway closed. “go home before your mom starts thinking we’re dating.”

you pretend it doesn’t sting, your mind racing with something along the lines of “would it really be so horrible?”—instead, you roll your eyes, raise a brow to match his smirk.

“gross,” you shoot back—because it’s easier to play along than to admit you’d probably say yes in a heartbeat.

jun grins at the floor, not at you. and that’s when it hits you—he never really looks at you when it matters. jun is always quick with a joke, always flashing that grin like it’s armor. but never steady, never really enough.

you turn around without pushing further, letting his words hang in the air like always.

and maybe that’s when something inside you shifted, just a little. not a full unraveling, not yet—but a thread pulled loose. not because of what jun said, but because of what he didn’t.

soon enough, summer melted into early fall, and everything started to shift in ways you didn’t have words for. the cicadas quieted, the skies stretched longer in the evenings, and somewhere in the middle of it, you stopped showing up at the moons’ front door. not all at once—but slowly and gradually, the way your feelings turn like fermented tofu left too long, the bitterness deepening day by day.

your little sibling was old enough now, old enough to carry tupperware with both hands and knock politely like your mother taught you. so you let them go in your place, making up excuses and saying you were busy or complained that you were tired.

but really, it just all started feeling kind of stupid—showing up at jun’s doorstep like clockwork when he never looked at you quite the way you hoped. senior year was just beginning, and you weren’t about to waste your last year of high school chasing a hopeless childhood crush—that silly, stubborn thing you promised yourself you’d outgrow by now.

one afternoon, he came to the door the same way he always did—sweatpants, bed hair, and rubbing sleep from one eye. only this time, when he pulled it open, he blinked down not at you, but at the top of someone else’s head.

your sibling squeaked out a practiced greeting, arms stretched out with the side dish your mom had made. jun stared for a second longer than usual, the corner of his mouth twitching like he didn’t know whether to smile or frown.

and maybe—for a beat, no longer—jun wondered where you’d gone. maybe something tugged at his chest, quiet and annoying, like a thread snagged in the fabric of a routine he hadn’t realized he’d grown so used to.

without you even noticing, the first day of senior year comes rushing in. and for the first time in a long time, you weren’t waiting at the door to walk to school with jun or pretending not to time your steps with his. no rushing out in your uniform just to catch up and scold him for walking so fast, no sarcastic “what a coincidence” from him as he adjusted his backpack, smirking without looking at you.

this time, you waited by the window until you saw him head down the street, hoodie thrown over his shoulders, earphones half in. he didn’t look up—not at your window, not at your house—and that should’ve made it easier. it didn’t. maybe a small part of you hoped he’d look back and wonder where you were, wait for you, or even send you a text on his flip phone. but jun simply kept walking, indifferent, until his back disappeared from your view.

you took that as a signal. you slipped on your shoes, the ones with the worn heels, grabbed your headphones and portable cd player, and shrugged into your jacket like muscle memory. your little sibling was still asleep on the couch, and your mom’s voice echoed faintly from the kitchen, but everything else felt unusually quiet.

by the time you stepped outside, the air had cooled just enough to make you wish you’d grabbed a scarf. you kept your head down, trying not to think too much, trying not to glance across the street even though you knew he wasn’t there.

what you didn’t see—what you couldn’t see—was jun leaning against the old oak tree halfway down the block, tucked just far enough behind the trunk to stay out of view. one foot pressed to the bark, hands deep in his hoodie pocket, chewing his bottom lip like he wasn’t sure what he was waiting for.

and then you passed by. head down, steps steady, walking right past him without a glance. he watched your back as it grew smaller, the morning light catching the edge of your sleeve. that feeling tugged at his chest again—the same one he felt a few weeks ago when you first sent your sibling to bring food over instead of yourself.

jun shifted his weight, exhaled slowly, and pushed off the tree.

you didn’t look back.

you kept your headphones in as you slipped into the courtyard, a half-hearted attempt to seem occupied. a few familiar faces nodded as they passed, but you didn’t stop to talk. not when your heart was still trying to unlearn a pattern it had followed for years.

junhui should be walking with you right now. he should be a step behind, yawning into his sleeve, bumping your shoulder with his on purpose. his friends should be calling out his name from the front steps, tossing lazy grins and half-waved hellos. and he should be answering them over his shoulder, still tugging at the frayed strap of your backpack and telling you your hair looked like a bird’s nest—then ruffling it like that wasn’t the most heart-fluttering, pulse-skipping, can’t-breathe-for-a-second thing he could possibly do to you. ‘fix your ugly bangs,’ he’d mumble, always the same tone—half-teasing, half-careless—and then he’d disappear into the crowd like you hadn’t been walking together at all.

that’s how the first day was supposed to go. it was how it always did, for years in a row.

but today, the only hands in your hair are your own, brushing it down nervously as you stare straight ahead and try not to think about how hollow the space beside you feels.

at the front of the school, students gathered near the bulletin board where class lists were taped up in uneven rows. you hesitated before stepping in, heart skipping like it did every year, eyes skimming the columns faster than they could register names—just one name, really.

there he was: moon junhui, class 3-2.

you dragged your gaze down, your name sitting two lines below his.

same class. again.

you didn’t know whether to sigh or smile. because a year ago, you would’ve been squealing in delight, skipping your way to first period with the kind of giddy, reckless hope that only came from liking someone as loudly as you did him. now, your heart still beat just as fast—but it was different. muddier, a bit conflicted. like your body hadn’t gotten the memo that you were trying to stop feeling this way.

and just when you took a step back, someone brushed past your shoulder, close enough to make your breath hitch.

“ah—sorry,” came a soft voice, unfamiliar and low, tinged with the faintest accent. you turned, blinking up.

he stood tall, maybe taller than jun, with sharp features and dark eyes that took their time looking over the list. his hair fell just slightly into his face, and his uniform hung neat, collar straight despite the morning bustle.

“do you know which one is class 3-2?” he asked, glancing down at you like you might already have the answer.

his lips are slightly pouted, brows pinched like he’s trying to make sense of the board in front of him, and it takes a second for you to register that he’s talking to you.

you blink, heart lurching a little too hard at the sight—because wow, he’s pretty—then quickly jab your finger—maybe a bit too eagerly—toward the list posted on the wall.

“that’s me,” you say, trying not to sound breathless, “i’m in that class.”

your name, still sitting two lines below junhui’s, stares back at you. still there. still in close proximity with the name of the boy you swore you were growing out of. you’ve seen it a hundred times before, but beside someone new, it feels strange—like a thread has quietly shifted in a pattern you hadn’t expected.

he leans in slightly, eyes skimming over where you’re pointing. then he lifts a finger, taps it just beneath yours.

“xu minghao,” he says, smiling now. “guess i’m right behind you.”

then you finally register it—that subtle lilt in his voice, the way his words land with a soft, rounded rhythm. an accent, warm and unmistakably northern, threads through his speech like a familiar tune from somewhere far from here. it’s not like junhui’s—his had always been rougher at the edges, syllables clipped and pulled from the south, the faint drawl curling around his words. minghao’s, though, settles in softer and more deliberate. and for a second, you forget what you were going to say.

you let out a small laugh before you can stop it, surprised at the way it slips out so easily.

“looks like it.”

minghao steps back, still looking at the list like he’s memorizing it, and you steal a glance—his expression is open and curious, like someone seeing everything for the first time and already wanting to know more.

and maybe it’s just this new feeling of a fresh start you promised to have, or the fact that he spoke to you first—out of all the kids here, he picked you. maybe your teenage brain is overthinking it, spinning meaning where there is none, but you honestly don’t mind the undivided attention for once.

junhui steps into the courtyard a little late, the sleeves of his uniform hoodie pushed up and hair still a bit damp from a rushed morning shower. he scans the crowd, eyes flicking past familiar faces as he adjusts the strap of his bag over one shoulder.

you’re not where you usually are.

a habit he didn’t realize he’d built until it broke—expecting to see you waiting near the bulletin boards or waving him over with some dumb comment about how the first day of school should be illegal. but this time, you’re nowhere in sight.

he shifts on his feet, gaze sweeping again, slower this time—until something fuzzy catches his eye.

your keychain. that stupid fuzzy creature you insisted on keeping, dangling off the zipper of your bag. the fur’s worn now, patchy in spots, the color a little dull from all the years of being dragged around—but it’s still there, bobbing amongst the crowd like a flag. it swings gently as you move, and junhui catches sight of it before he sees you.

he remembers the claw machine in that dingy arcade three summers ago, remembers how you clapped when he knocked the toy into the chute on his second try. jun remembers how you snatched it from his hands before he could even look at it properly, beaming as you said, “you won it for me!” like it was some grand romantic gesture. he’d rolled his eyes and said something about how annoying you were, but he’d let you keep it anyway. didn’t even have the heart to argue.

now, your figure’s nearly swallowed up by someone else’s—someone taller and unfamiliar. raven-black hair and legs that go on forever. and he wonders, bitterly, if the new guy knows that fact. if he even noticed it or asked where that keychain came from. not that it matters. whatever.

his brows pull together as he watches the two of you talking by the list, your head tilted slightly toward the guy beside you, smiling at something he says. it’s subtle, but jun catches the way your posture softens, the way you seem to lean in without meaning to. and for some reason, something shifts in his chest yet again—small and barely there, but noticeable. like a paper cut you don’t feel until after it’s happened, sharp and mildly irritating in the worst way.

he doesn’t know why it bothers him. maybe it’s the way you used to save that smile for him, or maybe it’s just habit that he would be the one next to you by that list, just like every year before this one.

either way, he tells himself it’s nothing. just the first day of school. just a new kid. nothing to think twice about—so he looks away.

“jun, you’re in 3-2 too, did you see?”

it’s joshua, already slinging an arm loosely around jun’s shoulder like no time has passed at all since last semester. he’s grinning, waving a folded schedule in one hand.

“i saw your name on the list. looks like we’re stuck together again.”

jun hums something in agreement, sparing one last glance over his shoulder—your fuzzy keychain already vanishing around the corner—before letting joshua steer him toward the hall. their footsteps fall into rhythm, laughter rising easily between them, but there’s a crease in junhui’s brow that doesn’t quite smooth out.

the classroom buzzes with first-day energy—chairs scraping, windows cracking open to let in the crisp air, conversations picking up where summer left off. you step in a little hesitantly, fingers tightening around the strap of your backpack, only to catch sight of a familiar head of tousled brown hair near the center.

junhui.

middle row, third seat from the front—the one he always liked. far enough to nap unnoticed, close enough not to get called on. but maybe more than that, it was more or less the same area where you’d saved a seat for him on his first day, the one you carved out space for him to take when he first moved in. the seat beside him is empty, and your steps falter.

but before the thought can root itself too deep, minghao nudges your arm gently and gestures to the back corner by the windows. “over here?”

his voice comes low and steady, easy to listen to—not pushy, just gently warm, like a quiet invitation you don’t feel the need to refuse.

you find yourself following him without saying much, feet moving first and slipping into the seat by the window as he takes the one beside you. your bag hits the floor with a soft thud. the early morning light spills across your desk, warm against your skin. a breeze stirs your hair.

jun doesn’t turn around.

you tell yourself it’s fine. it is. you’re in a new seat, next to someone new. someone who didn’t grow up with the version of you that tripped over her own feet just to keep up, the version who doesn’t follow jun pathetically like a shadow.

this feels like the change you didn’t know you needed—the breath of fresh air that makes your steps a little lighter, the quiet comfort of minghao by your side softening the edges of everything you thought you knew.

eventually, lunch becomes an unspoken thing between you and minghao.

it’s not planned at first, he just starts showing up—next to you in the hallway, at your desk after class, and in the cafeteria line with his tray angled toward yours. when teachers say to group into pairs, his eyes find yours before anyone else’s even has the chance. and it doesn’t take long before you realize you’re basically attached at the hip.

his presence is quiet, but it holds weight—like gravity, steady and subtle. and somehow, it pulls you in. he doesn’t talk much to others, never the first to speak in a crowd, but he always greets you first. always. like it’s second nature. and maybe your high school brain is reading too much into it—but then again, maybe it isn’t.

junhui notices when you stop waiting for him.

he notices when you stop waiting for him by the front gate. when you don’t pause outside the cafeteria, scanning for his face before heading in. he sees you laughing quietly at something minghao says, the two of you already halfway through your lunch trays before he’s even stepped inside. it’s where you always liked sitting, but now it’s him that’s sitting there with you.

and the kicker? minghao’s chewing on rice cakes that look painfully familiar—your mom’s recipe, the one she always makes in bulk when the ingredients are fresh from the market.

your little sibling had dropped off a container of them last night, waving cheerfully at the door. jun hadn’t opened it—his mom had—but he remembers the smell and how it tasted. freshly made, still warm from the kitchen.

does minghao even know what they taste like fresh?

jun bets he doesn’t.

and then he blinks, the thought catching him off guard. why did that matter? why was he thinking like that? since when did he care who got the first bite?

he tells himself it’s nothing. just food. just your mom’s cooking.

but then jun looks back at the way you’re leaning in, nodding at something minghao says—and he hates how natural it looks. how effortless and how easy.

like that space beside you was never his to begin with.

minghao took the space you’d carved jun out of, like it had always been waiting, like it had always been his.

he didn’t rush to fill it, just slipped in quietly—slid his tray next to yours at lunch, fell into step beside you in the hallways, always found you first when it came time to pair up in class. you didn’t have to ask because he was already there.

minghao noticed. of course he did.

maybe he just pretended not to—kept his gaze steady, let you talk, let you laugh—like he didn’t feel the weight of someone else’s eyes on his back.

the boy with the messy brown hair—moon junhui, was it?—had a habit of staring like he was trying to set minghao’s head on fire with just his eyes. sometimes from across the classroom, or when you were laughing a little too loudly beside minghao’s shoulder. that boy would stare like he was waiting for you to pull away, waiting for you to take your usual seat back beside him in the middle row, like you always used to.

minghao had overheard stories about how you would be one step behind jun, always lingering around him from your classmates. he didn’t bring it up—he didn’t have to, not when your gaze never really wandered, or when he already had all of your attention. maybe a part of him was selfish enough to hold onto it, to keep you looking only at him.

in the blink of an eye, autumn blurred into winter. and suddenly, it was midterm season—gray skies, tired eyes, the weight of your future pressing down in textbook margins and red underlines.

you were hunched over a desk in the corner of the library, highlighter uncapped, fingers tangled in your own hair as you muttered formulas under your breath. there were empty snack wrappers beside your notes, a half-empty bottle of water, and post-it tabs clinging to your fingers like tiny reminders of all the things you have yet to finish.

“you forgot to eat lunch,” came a quiet voice beside you.

you looked at him through tired lashes, heart fluttering with something you couldn’t name—something that didn’t feel loud or sudden, but slow and warm like a shift in the tide.

jun had never been like this. when you asked him to go over notes or lessons, he’d brush you off or give you a distracted nod, like your questions were just background noise to him. he barely gave you the time of day.

but minghao—he didn’t tell you to rest, didn’t hover, didn’t ask questions. he simply set down the kimbap, opened his own book, and settled in beside you, steady and unintrusive. his presence felt like a quiet anchor, like a hand guiding you gently forward without pressure.

somewhere between the rustle of pages and the steam curling from the kimbap wrapper, you haven’t realized you’d been holding your breath.

maybe it wasn’t exactly the moment you fell. maybe it was the moment you crawled out of that hole junhui let you fall into, and quietly fell into a new one—one carved out by minghao. this one didn’t feel as deep or dark, unsure like the former, but warm and inviting.

that night, you and minghao had stayed late at the library, lost in quiet study and soft conversations, the hours slipping by unnoticed until the lights flickered off at eight. 

that night, jun lingered by his bedroom window, waiting. the digital clock on his nightstand glowed 9:42PM—later than you’d ever been home before. he’d almost left the house himself to go find you.

his chest tightened as he watched you and minghao move slowly down the sidewalk, your voices low, your steps in quiet sync. jun watched quietly from where he was, the soft glow of the streetlamp outlining your figure as you walked home. your books were tucked under one arm, and minghao’s hand—steady and sure—held yours in the other. it was a small thing, but jun felt it like a sudden jolt beneath his ribs.

but then, when you paused at your door and tiptoed to press a gentle kiss on minghao’s cheek, it was like his heart stopped altogether.

jun practically ambushed you the next morning, stepping out of his door quick enough to fall into step beside you.

“h-hey,” he said, a little breathless, “did you get home safe last night?”

you blink, caught off guard. “how’d you know i got home late?”

he scratched the back of his neck, cheeks reddening a bit. “uh, your mom was looking for you last night. said she thought maybe you were still out with… someone. or, you know, whatever.” he shrugged, trying to play it cool but failing just a little. “guess she thinks you’re out on a date or something.”

he raised a brow, waiting for your response. you shook your head at this, smiling slightly. “who has time for that right now, junhui? we’re too busy caught up with midterm exams in our senior year.”

he didn’t miss the way you said his full first name, but he only nodded quietly, mostly to himself, a flicker of relief settling in.

as you walked to school together, the old routine seemed to snap back into place—familiar, but tinged with something awkward underneath.

when you get to school, minghao spots you from a few meters away, his pace slowing just slightly. he doesn’t miss the boy walking beside you, eyes flicking to junhui with a polite nod and a quiet, almost casual, “hey, junhui.”

then he steps between the two of you without hesitation, hand resting lightly on your shoulder—gentle, but unmistakably there. “mind if i borrow y/n for a sec?”

junhui blinks, then looks at you, something unreadable flickering across his face. “oh. yeah, sure. just wanted to ask real quick—could you maybe tutor me next week?”

you tilt your head, surprised—jun rarely asked for academic help. he usually got decent grades without much effort. still, you shrug and say, “sure.”

to face him properly, you shift a little, gently nudging minghao aside so you can meet jun’s gaze. “which subjects do you need help with?” the cold air makes your cheeks flush; your breath puffs out in soft vapor. your hair’s a little messy, bangs falling over your eyes—the same bangs jun used to tell you to fix every single time. back then, he never minded. maybe because you were kind of adorable like that, with those messy bangs barely brushing your eyes, and the way you’d finally fix them just so only he could see that slightly windswept look of yours. his heart starts racing faster than usual.

minghao raises a brow, watching the quiet exchange, as jun rambled on about how history has been kicking his ass lately. after a beat of silence, he clears his throat. “hey, i’ve been meaning to tell you. i have a family trip until next week,” he says, voice calm but not unreadable. “i’ll be away for a bit, but you can spend more time tutoring jun. looks like he needs it,” he mutters, an unamused gaze barely meeting the other boy’s own.

his hand stays steady on your shoulder, warm even through the fabric of your coat.

“jun can walk you home, anyway,” he adds, glancing at you with a faint smile. “neighbors’ privilege.”

then, softer—just for you—“sorry,” he murmurs, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze. not possessive, just reassuring.

that afternoon, minghao was already gone, a quick text sent your way about heading out early for family dinner, leaving you and jun standing outside the school gates as the sun dipped lower behind gray clouds.

you fell into step beside him without thinking, the familiar rhythm of your footsteps side by side settling around you like an old song. the conversation was quiet—more comfortable than it had been in a long time. the world felt steady again, but your heart didn’t thud like it used to when you were near him. it was softer, calmer, like you were finally seeing jun without the pull of chasing, without the weight of hoping.

that day, jun walked you back to your front porch. your mom’s face lit up when she opened the door, offering him dinner like she used to all those years ago. and, surprisingly—maybe for the first time since middle school—he accepted with a willing nod.

jun went home that night with the tupperware of your mom’s mapo tofu balanced carefully in his arms. jun flashed you a soft, hesitant smile—like he wasn’t quite sure how to carry the moment—with his brown hair still brushing past his lashes, catching the last light of the evening.

you offer him a quiet ‘good night,’ your voice soft like the fading light outside. your eyes linger on him, not closing the door right away—watching until he disappears into his room across the street, the faint glow of his window the last thing you see before you finally step inside.

it feels strange at first—like the world’s shifted its usual rhythm just a little. for the next few days, it’s like everywhere you turn, there’s jun. not the distant planet you once orbited from afar, but somehow closer, like he’s started circling you instead. it’s subtle—the way he lingers near your locker, the way his shadow falls a little too close when you pass in the hallway—but it’s enough to make your heart skip, wondering if maybe the tides have finally changed.

one morning, you find a fresh banana milk waiting on your desk, cool and slightly sweet, just like the ones jun used to share with you after practice. there’s no note, just the familiar warmth of the gesture, and you can’t help but wonder if he’s trying to say something without words.

at lunch, you sit alone, scrolling through your phone quietly. then jun appears beside you, holding a small container of something homemade—pickled radish, your favorite side dish. he shrugs, avoiding your eyes, and says, “thought you might like this.” you look up, caught off guard, but the way he lingers before walking away feels like a silent moment, maybe of hope.

meanwhile, minghao’s been sending you quiet messages every night since he first arrived at their vacation home—small check-ins, a good night here, a joke there. you read them with a smile, the softness in his words a warm anchor. even miles away, he’s somehow still holding your hand steadily and sure.

the day you’d promised to tutor jun finally rolled around, coinciding with the last day of minghao’s family vacation—he’d be back at school the following day. the last bell had already rung, and most of the classrooms had emptied out, the quiet hum of students lingering only in the stairwells and front gates. outside, the sun was starting to dip low, casting the hallways in a soft glow, the ground blanketed with a few inches of snow that made everything feel quieter, like the end of something you couldn’t name.

jun was waiting near your locker, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket, the tip of his shoe nudging the floor like he was working up to something.

“ready to go?” he muttered, jerking his chin toward the direction of the library. his voice was awkward, tentative, like he wasn’t sure how to say what he wanted to say next.

you nodded anyway, falling into step beside him as the last traces of sunlight poured through the windows. your heart flipped just a little when he reached up and brushed a few stray snowflakes from your hair. the touch was quiet—almost familiar—and it made something in your chest pull tight. you shoved the feeling down, steadying yourself before it could bloom into anything more.

no. you couldn’t waste all those weeks of distance, all the effort it took to carve out space between you and junhui, just to feel like this again. not when you were doing so well.

you almost scoffed at this—at the way he slowed his pace, glanced over his shoulder once, then again, just to make sure you were still behind him.

because back then, all you ever saw was the back of his stupid brown-haired head, moving ahead like he didn’t even notice you were trying to keep up. like he knew, knew you’d always be a few steps behind, reaching for something he never quite gave.

soon enough, you reached the library, jun holding the door open for you. you ducked inside from the cold, instantly enveloped by warmth and the faint scent of old books. you didn’t look at him as you passed, choosing instead to pull your scarf a little tighter.

you found a quiet table tucked into a corner, one you used to sit at back in second year, and settled down. he sat across from you, dragging out his notes and a pen, and for the next hour or so, you walked him through formulas and vocab lists. made flashcards. quizzed him. and he answered everything in just a couple of beats.

still, he kept staring.

he watched the way your lips moved when you read out questions, the way your handwriting curved on the paper, the way you furrowed your brows when he got something slightly off. his heart skipped when your fingers brushed as you reached for the same pen, and he watched you quietly tuck it behind your ear, bangs messy over your eyes.

you always left them that way. he used to tease you about it, telling you to fix them so he could see your face. back then, it never really bothered him.

but now… now he thought maybe he told you that because he liked it. because the way you looked with messy bangs, slightly flushed from the cold, lips parted with vapor curling into the air—it was something he didn’t want anyone else to see.

and maybe it was dumb. maybe it was stupid to start chasing and pining after you now, after everything. after he saw you press a kiss to the new guy’s cheek under a streetlamp just a couple nights ago. but junhui was a teenage boy. and teenage boys were dumb.

by the time you were zipping up your bag, it was nearly 7PM, the sky outside dusky and blue. jun watched quietly, fingers resting on his own books, mind still halfway stuck on the way your cheeks pinked from the cold.

and then he noticed it. next to that old, fuzzy keychain he won from the claw machine—a new, brighter one.

a plush froggie, bright green and smug, winking at him like it knew something he didn’t. almost like it was mocking him.

he opened his mouth, the start of a question on his tongue—until you spoke first.

“hey, junhui…” your voice was quieter now, not cold, but distant. measured. “i… i don’t know what you’re trying to do.”

something in jun’s chest faltered. his heart dropped at the way you said his first name completely—carefully, as it cut through the silence.

you were looking down as you adjusted the strap of your bag, fingers brushing over the keychains before slipping away. “you knew all the answers,” you said plainly, not accusatory—just true. “you didn’t need my help tonight.” 

you met his gaze then, finally, your expression unreadable but steady.

jun didn’t want to admit it, but what you said during your study session a few days ago had been sitting heavy in his chest ever since. it echoed in the quiet moments—in the space between thoughts, his classes, and between breaths. he’d always thought of you as reliable, familiar, and constant.

“i think you can study on your own next time, yeah?”

but he hadn’t realized how far he’d fallen behind until now.

until he couldn’t even pretend you needed him anymore.

he couldn’t avoid the way minghao had greeted you the morning after that tension-filled library exchange, arms full of neatly packed lunch boxes leftover from the last night of his fancy family trip the day before. he watched the way your eyes lit up, how you gasped and clutched his arm, laughing as you peeked inside one of the containers.

“whoa—your family really goes all out, huh?”

minghao just smiled, modest. “my mom got carried away. here, try this one.”

jun looked away.

because he remembered when you used to look at him like that.

when he’d hand you a tupperware his mom made him bring to school—sometimes braised tofu with soy sauce and scallions, sometimes stir-fried egg and tomato, or on special days, hong shao rou with a little too much fat clinging to the corners.

your face would light up just the same. not because the food was fancy—it never was—but because it came from someone like jun, and you like jun—

you liked jun. so much.

and now, you were looking at someone else like that—with that same sparkle and warmth.

and jun couldn’t shake the ache that bloomed in his chest.

because he hadn’t realized how much he missed that warmth, not until someone else had it, someone else slipping into the space he hadn’t even known he’d left empty.

because somewhere along the way—between brushing you off, never texting back, and pretending he didn’t see the way you looked at him—jun had royally, completely fucked it all up.

maybe he’d been too comfortable, too sure you’d always be around.

maybe he was too busy being the guy who never cut his stupid brown hair, even when it kept falling into his eyes, past his eyebrows, because he thought he looked cool like that—too busy being blinded by his own bangs to notice the way you’d started pulling away.

the senior ball was coming up fast—fliers on every classroom door, teachers reminding you to buy tickets, and group chats flooded with dress photos and playlists and gossip. it was the one event that managed to distract everyone from the impending doom of finals week, the looming pressure of graduation, and college applications creeping in like fog under a door.

proposals had started popping up left and right.

confetti in hallways, flowers in lockers, and notes scribbled on whiteboards.

you were definitely in the headspace, clapping and cheering with your friends as your classmates got asked by their dates—screaming when someone said yes, laughing when someone blushed too hard to speak.

and even if you didn’t say it out loud, even if you pretended you weren’t looking…

something in your heart hoped.

hoped that maybe—maybe a certain raven-haired boy would ask you.

quiet, steady, and thoughtful—someone who’d held your hand under the glow of a streetlamp and never made you feel like you were too much. someone who made you feel seen in a way that didn’t burn or overwhelm.

but the next thing you know, a head of brown hair steps into your line of sight.

your breath catches.

junhui.

not minghao.

he’s holding something behind his back, eyes flicking nervously to yours.

and just like that, everything stills.

your eyes flicker to what he’s holding behind his back—a neatly packed bento box, mismatched lid and all, the kind you used to exchange when you were younger. junhui had cooked it himself, you could tell. the rice wasn’t level, the side dishes a little uneven, but something about it made your chest tighten.a quiet, clumsy echo of something you used to share—a ritual buried beneath teenage silence.

your gaze drifts back to him. his eyes are hopeful and uncertain, watching you like he’s bracing for a hit he knows might still come.

“i’m sorry,” he says, voice low. “for making you wait. for being—god—stupid. i should’ve said something sooner. i just…”

you hear the rest, but it’s faint, drowned beneath the roar of your own thoughts—the ones rapid-firing, all jumbled and too much.

you swallow the lump in your throat.

you should want this. should be squealing, saying yes before he could even get the words out. a few months ago, you would have. the you that still clung to every small moment, every glance and maybe, every time he turned and waited for you to catch up.

you’re still standing there, trying to catch up to everything all at once

but now—

now, when jun finally asks, bringing out the bento box from behind him, his voice low and rushed—

“will you go to the ball with me?”

you don’t know what to say.

somewhere behind you, some students that notice pause to watch, someone muttering with a laugh,

“i knew they’d get together one of these days.”

you don’t turn to look, you just stand there, the weight of old memories and new feelings pressing into your chest, unsure which ones you’re supposed to carry forward.

because this—jun’s bento box, his quiet apology, the soft tremble in his voice—it should’ve been everything.

but it wasn’t comfortable anymore, it didn’t feel warm. warm like minghao’s steady presence, not like the quiet way he always made space for you without asking anything in return, or like the way he would greet you first, making sure your presence is acknowledged.

and maybe that’s when you realize—you weren’t still chasing the moon anymore. you’d stopped somewhere along the way without even noticing that you’d started turning toward the warmth of the stars instead.

you swallow hard, the words catching in your throat. jun’s face shifts, the smile faltering—eyes dimming as he reads the hesitation in your expression.

“sorry, junhui… i—”

but you don’t get to finish.

because before the rest can tumble out, there’s already a familiar warmth at your side. a gentle hand finds your shoulder, another wrapping easily around you as a voice cuts through the tension.

“hey,” minghao says, tone light and almost casual, but gaze unwavering as he glances at jun. “sorry, am i late?”

he doesn’t wait for an answer—just guides you forward, slipping past the small crowd of curious onlookers, his grip steady as he steers you away from the fluorescent hallway and the boy still standing in it. the boy whose name sits heavy on your tongue.

you let yourself lean into minghao’s touch, not because it’s easier, but because right now, it feels like the only thing keeping your heart from tumbling out of your chest.

minghao doesn’t say much as he guides you down the quiet corridor, hand gentle at your back until he pushes open the door to an empty classroom. it clicks shut behind you, soft but final. the silence settles between you like fresh snow.

he doesn’t turn around at first, just runs a hand through his hair before leaning against the teacher’s desk, eyes flicking to yours.

“look… y/n,” he starts, voice quieter than usual, but steady. “i don’t know what’s going on between you and jun,”

he pauses, as if waiting for you to say something. you don’t.

“but i know what it looked like. and admittedly, heard from other kids how you had always hovered over him.” his gaze softens, searching your eyes to check if he had crossed any lines, but your quiet nod urges him to go on, “ i can’t imagine how you must’ve felt—watching someone push and pull with you like that.”

his eyes darken, not with anger, but something softer. something more careful.

“and i just—” minghao swallows, the words catching in his throat for a moment. “i just wanted you to know… i could never do that to you.”

he shifts, finally stepping closer, slow and deliberate. his fingers twitch at his sides before he lifts his gaze to meet yours.

“and maybe i was being a little selfish,” he admits softly, voice almost a whisper now. “pulling you away from him back there like that, but…” a breath, his cheeks flushing, “i decided i’ll let myself be. just this once.”

his hand finds yours again, gentle but certain, like he’s been waiting to. “because if there’s even the slightest chance you might choose me… i couldn’t just stand there and watch him take it.”

“you made space for me. and i—i’d never let you chase. never make you guess where you stood.”

the words fall from minghao’s lips so softly they almost miss you, tucked between the silence of the empty classroom and the steady rhythm of your own heartbeat. but they land with weight, like the hush that follows a snowfall—quiet, but thick, clinging to every surface inside you.

you blink, the words echoing in your head again and again, as if your heart needs time to understand them. because no one had ever said that to you before, no one had ever wanted to take the guessing out of love. no one had ever promised not to run, not to make you stumble after them, reaching for scraps of their attention like you once did with wen junhui.

your breath catches in your throat, fragile and unsure, and you look at him—at minghao, standing there with the softest kind of certainty, a warm glow. the kind that doesn’t shove its way into your chest but offers a place to rest instead. his gaze is steady, searching—like he means every word he just said, and is willing to wait if you need time to believe them.

it’s not loud or the type to sweep you off your feet, it’s not a movie-scene confession with roses or confetti or a marching band. but it’s real. and it’s everything you didn’t know you’d been aching for.

and suddenly you’re not back in that hallway with jun, fumbling and breathless with disappointment, as if you were lost in space. you’re here, grounded. held in place by the boy who never made you chase, who met you exactly where you were, who had just said he’d never let you question where you stood.

your hands tremble slightly by your sides, and minghao waits. he doesn’t rush or fill the silence with an awkward laugh or joke.

and it’s in that moment you realize—you were never chasing him to begin with.

he’d been walking beside you all along.

you don’t need to say a word. just a quiet step forward, the slight nod of your head, and minghao understands. something in his expression softens—like the knot between his brows finally loosens, like he’s been holding his breath this whole time too.

he gently brings your hand up between you two, fingers curling around yours. your cheeks flush even deeper when he brings your hand to his lips, eyes widening just a little as you watch him in awe. there’s something unhurried in the way he moves, like he’s treating the moment—treating you—with care. it makes your heart flutter, your throat tightening.

then, instead of letting go, he keeps your hand in his, fingers laced through yours as he gently pulls you closer. your feet move instinctively, closing the small distance, until you’re standing toe to toe in the quiet classroom.

his other hand rises slowly, cupping your cheek with the same gentleness he always offered—the kind that you never had to beg for, but simply given to you, no questions asked.

“may i?” he whispers, voice laced with something a little breathless, a little giddy, like he can’t quite believe this is real.

and the small laugh that escapes him, soft and sweet, wraps around you like warmth.

you nod before you can even think about it, breath caught somewhere in your chest.

he leans in slowly, giving you every moment to pull back if you want to—but you don’t. his lips brush yours gently at first, soft and tentative like a question, then deepen with quiet certainty, as if he’s been waiting for this moment just as much as you have.

the world shrinks down to nothing but the warmth of minghao’s touch, the steady beat of his heart beneath your hand, and the way his breath mingles with yours.

it’s tender and slow, a promise wrapped in a kiss that feels like the start of something new—something actually real, something that doesn’t make you chase, feelings that are reciprocated and solid.

from the corridor, jun’s grip tightens on the bento box in his hands, his eyes fixed on you through the empty classroom’s window. deja vu hits him hard—the same way he watched from his bedroom window the night minghao walked you home just weeks ago. without a word, he turns and walks away, the bento box slipping from his fingers and landing in a nearby trash bin with a soft thud, discarded like the chances he’d lost.

a soft smirk tugs at minghao’s lips against yours, subtle and knowing. one eye slips open, just barely—a quiet, amused glance over your shoulder.

he sees jun’s back retreating down the hallway, the stiff set of his shoulders, defeated, and the way his grip tightens around the bento box before it disappears into the nearest bin.

minghao only pulls you closer.

his hand slides from your cheek to the back of your neck, thumb brushing gently as he leans in, deepening the kiss just slightly. this time, there’s no hesitation. it’s the clearest signal he could give—like a flashing green light above his head saying go. like a door wide open, no locks, no riddles, no second-guessing.

you finally weren’t chasing the moon anymore, so out of reach. you were here, grounded to minghao and being loved the way you always wanted and deserved to. and with every second that passed, the years wasted on moon junhui—on hoping, wondering, waiting—felt like they were finally, quietly, slipping away as you melted into minghao’s arms.

the space you once carved out for him now met with his own—two halves finally folding into place, like they were always meant to fit together. like the universe itself planned it to.

𐔌 . ⋮ taglist .ᐟ seventeen ֹ ₊ ꒱ @kstrucknet | @ateez-atiny380 @alien0n3arth @cuppasunu @dhaliaa1211 @seokminfilm @babilou-pov @crowneve @hhaechansmoless @triciawritesstuff @sopitadearvejas @slytherinshua @chronicfic @xh01bri @d4ily-s-nsh1ne @snowflakemoon3 @bbangbies @kibtsuji @dahlia-blossom @dhaliaa1211 @symphonies-of-poenies @judesbae

[fel-09]

He made a mistake but silently condemns himself.

Fluff

Warning: this fanfic partly transfers my character in the text, so be prepared for a lot of sarcasm and ironic remarks and in the text there is a partial self-analysis of character soooo...

Author's note:I was away for a long time due to several reasons that I would prefer not to say for sure.

Tommy Shelby x reader

The wedding of John and the Lee family's daughter, Esme, seemed strange from the start. It happened too fast. So fast that it wasn't even touching, it was annoying. Of course, Tommy had organized everything - as always, in advance, clearly, almost with military precision. He'd left John no chance to come to his senses, just pushed him down the aisle as if getting married was just another transaction, that was all.

You understood why he did it. John's kids needed their mother, and Shelby and Lee had been feuding for too long - maybe this marriage really was a step toward reconciliation. But damn it, Tommy often overreacted. Deciding for everyone, giving no one a choice. Even if it was for the family.

The party went on as usual. The guests were having fun, the music was playing, some were laughing, some were dancing-it looked almost like a happy world, except for one detail.

The bride, Esme, stood a little apart. Embarrassed, stiff, she was quietly hugging her relatives. A smile touched your lips - she looked like she herself didn't fully believe this was all happening. Shaking your head, you walked past, glancing at the guests.

John, as it turned out, had already gotten pretty drunk. He was sitting next to his friend, rocking back and forth and mumbling something inaudible. He didn't look, to put it mildly, festive.

You noticed the way Esme's family was looking at him, frowning, disgruntled; they didn't particularly like John's behavior. And that feeling instantly transferred to you. Tommy should have followed up on it, he always does. But no - he shivered, sitting back, sipping his whiskey thoughtfully, already a little tipsy. Like he always did when he was tired, when he wanted to forget, when he wanted to be alone.

You frowned, took a couple steps forward, and walked toward John with determination. He didn't even notice you were there until he felt your hand on his shoulder.

- Pull yourself together, just for five minutes- you whispered quietly but firmly, leaning in close to his ear.

He flinched, as if he hadn't been expecting you. He recognized your voice, and instantly looked like a puppy caught doing something wrong. He whimpered quietly, head down. Sometimes he thought it was Aunt Polly telling him off. But you were just as bad in that family, to be honest.

If Tommy wasn't in control, you were. And that wasn't even discussed.

You were the first daughter-in-law, and let's face it, you were a gift. You didn't just fit into the structure, you crashed into it like a train. You were practically a despot in a skirt, worse than Tommy. Whereas he did everything quietly, calculatedly, you did it loudly and with personality. You put everyone in their place in such a way that even Polly rolled her eyes at times.

You might have considered yourself soft - well, in some aspects. In reality, it was worse. Worse than you were willing to admit."It's like a child being raised to be a military superior," Arthur once said, tipping back a shot as he talked to Thomas alone.

You heard all that, of course. You didn't scold, you didn't explode-you didn't even take it personally. Because, damn it, that's Arthur. He's not the same person.

Even though from the outside it looks like you two don't get along at all, it's the opposite. At your wedding to Tommy, you and Arthur drank yourselves to stardom, and at one point you almost collapsed on the floor, to put it another way. Tommy tried to keep a straight face, but he was drunk with the company. He calmed you two down like children, but he ended up singing drunken songs with you. with you.

You knew how to tell people off, Suho, accurately, quietly, but to the bone. You told John off just now, making him look like a boy. And you? You're no better. Worse, to be honest.

Letting the boy go - though what the hell kind of boy is he? He's a married man. But to you, he's still the little rascal who used to steal raw dough out of the bowl on Saturdays when you were baking cookies. Eating in secret with Finn under the table like a petty burglar.

Sometimes, when you remembered those days, a stingy, almost theatrical tear rolled down your cheek. Although, to quote Arthur, "it's not tears, you don't understand, it's her sweat."

And what about Arthur himself? Right now, for instance, he's a mess, half lying on the table like an abandoned tablecloth. He's pretty well blown away.

Sometimes you even give him a break from his temper. But everyone knows that tomorrow he'll have the lecture of a lifetime. He'll be sitting there looking like a stubborn swan, making guilty eyes and serving you tea like you're the papal goddess and he's her last chance for forgiveness.

Tommy? Well, he's not exactly sweet.

When he married you, the first thing he had to endure at his own wedding was you. Drunk, hanging around his neck saying:"If you don't take a sip, I swear I'll open your windpipe and pour vodka into you, you know, love. my love."

That's the kind of love you had - rough, prickly, like a velvet brush on your face. But everyone knew there was a soft heart behind the thrash. Well, very deep. Somewhere between "fuck you" and "I'll bake you a cake because you look tired."

Shaking your head, you headed over to Tommy. He was, as always, keeping slightly to the side - his usual period of silent introspection. He did everything for the family, even if his methods were... let's say, not the mildest. But you understood that. Even when he couldn't explain what was eating him.

He sat leaning over the glass, staring at the amber liquid in the glass as if it were a reflection of his own doubts. You knew he was having a hard time. He'd pushed John down the aisle before he'd had a chance to digest the situation, and now he was alone with himself, kicking himself for it. He had a habit of punishing himself in silence.

Sometimes you'd say to him:

"You know, everybody has a goal. It's just that the path to it is different for everyone. Sometimes the path is immoral, even if the goal is noble."

He listened. He didn't always answer, but you could see he cared. To know that his wife was not only a woman of character, but someone who understood him at least partially.

You came up behind him, put your arms around him, pressed your cheek against his back. He didn't twitch-quite the opposite, as if he'd exhaled. The whiskey in his hand shook slightly, but he continued to gaze thoughtfully at the glass until he felt you squeeze harder. Then he squeezed your hand gently, lifted it to his lips, and kissed your knuckles. Quietly, as if apologizing, but without words.

You giggled, breaking the moment.

- Remember the time we got drunk at our wedding? You carried me in your arms into the room... and dropped me on the floor, and then you fell on top of me? - You whispered with a chuckle, breathing in the scent of his skin, whiskey and stubbornness.

He finally turned, pulling you against his chest. He snorted at first, then grumbled grumpily:

- You know how to remember things that are not necessary.

You rolled your eyes in response, kissed him on the cheek.

- Oh, come on. It was fun.

He surrendered, as he always did - only in your hands. He smiled faintly and kissed your cheek in return.

[els-little-corner]

i usually never talk about my oc's because i'm actually quite shy online, but there's a yap session below the cut :)

i love all my ocs, but i think this one sprung up on me out of literal nowhere and went from being a side character with two lines to being one of the lead's best friend and having a massive impact on how things go within the story.

he's a son to two mothers, conceived magically, and had an older sister named Noelle. both these mothers come from a dimension much like this one at different points in time (1952 and 1989 to be specific) and ended up on a parallel world together, where they fell in love. they had the older sister, and then the oc i'm talking about.

he was just a side character, at first. but two years later, i wrote one arc and he became one of the secondary leads, with several POV chapters. he really did creep up on me. his hands can heal almost any wound but it slowly kills him if he does too much. he's been through so much: his powers kick in at 6 1/2 when he heals his sister Noelle after an accident that would've taken her sight, studying medicine from that age because that's what his powers were, handling Noelle's sudden disappearance days before his 13th birthday, having possibly some of the worst teenage years out of all the cast (and it's a big fuckin' cast). his debut arc involves going on a quest to save a summer camp he was left at by his parents, surviving being assaulted and the PTSD that came with it, getting caught up in a war he had no part in starting but choosing to help out as a battlefield medic at just 15, watching the love of his life die before him with nothing he could do, and yet he remained gentle; he said "i'm a medic, not a murderer" and stuck by it. he wanted to be a comic book artist, had to shelve those dreams for years to take up medicine because it's what he was "meant to do", but he ends up publishing his own graphic novel, surrounded by friends who support him in every way.

he was judgy, he was snarky. he didn't allow himself to be who he truly wanted to be. he had an unhealthy amount of self-deprecation all throughout his POVs. he was adopted by a group of friends, and even though he tried his hardest to push them away, they still wanted him. they'd sorely misjudged him at first, but the FMC's friendship with him helped restore her will to live again, and helped him become more open with people. he allowed himself to cry. fall in love, despite it all. he plays FNAF, the franchise he was named i got his name from, with his best friend. he cries at the jumpscares, and he's not ashamed of it at all. he loves his friends unapologetically.

he was once just a side character, and now he's getting his own prequel.

Evan Winnow, you judgy bastard, i'll love you always.

What is your favourite character you've ever created? And why are they your favourite?

[blueskittlesart]

is detcon actually good

no <3 hope this helps

[cuddytism]

the turn from cameron and wilson being our house-related co-conspirators to it being cuddy and wilson is so fast you don't even realize it. you go from season 2 to season 3 and all of a sudden wilson and cuddy are around each other so much more, and the premiere of that season solidifies them as our new co-conspiring duo.

i think it's really easy to go through the entire show and feel like wilson and cuddy were close the entire time but... they weren't. prior to season 3 they had very little to do with each other. i wouldn't necessarily call it a relationship retcon; Meaning seems to imply that they had grown closer in the two months between the end of season 2 and beginning of season 3, and even before that with the date in Forever. but there is a very distinct jump in their closeness and likelihood to share a scene or scheme between seasons.

prior to season 3, it was pretty firmly cameron and wilson playing the roles of The Ones That Care About House--not that cuddy didn't care about house at that time, just that she did it solitarily--so i find it interesting that they all but completely ditched the cam/wilson duo for cuddy/wilson in this season.

the reason that i believe this happened is quite the boring one; cuddy needed more screentime, and it evens out the character dynamics. they're trying to solidify her as being a Main Character, now that she's getting her own storylines, as well as the fact that this season is the one where the role of 'love interest' for house undoubtedly shifts to cuddy, where it'll stay for the rest of the show. the closer cuddy gets to house, the closer she has to be to wilson. the less that cameron is interested in house, the less she feels the need to seek out wilson, and vice versa.

it's strange how unnoticable this change is when you aren't paying attention, though. because it doesn't come out of nowhere, it does build, it isn't like wilson and cuddy have never plotted before (hello! Detox!) or that cameron and wilson stopped having scenes together completely. it's just that things are changing. in a way that feels... sort of natural, so it doesn't really catch you off-guard. it's kinda jarring on paper, but in practice i think it works.

character dynamics are changing. character roles are changing. change is a big theme of the season, and though it's quite hammered in by the finale, it starts at the very beginning. with these two!!! there's a reason the first real scene of season 3 is of cuddy and wilson conspiring in her office. it's solidifing this change, without us even realizing it.

[my-rose-tinted-glasses]

Tag Game: Scenes I will never forget

Rules: Share 5-10 scenes you can't forget. Not your favourites, the ones that got stuck in your brain for any reason.

Tagged by @dramalove247 here thank you!💜

So when I saw this game, my mind immediately went to pain. Maybe because of the post that originated the game or maybe because it's easier to remember the pain lol (laughing to mask the pain). But then I started to think about shows and scenes and so many scenes live in my brain and not just because they hurt, but also because I felt such joy, or a scene that made me relate in a good way, or made me laugh non stop. So, with that in mind, here goes my list of scenes that I will never forget, no matter how many more shows I watch. I'm gonna keep it QL to make it easier on me but I also started to think about scenes from other asian media, so if anyone wants to tag me again, feel free. But also, don't feel obligated. You know what I mean. Let's go.

Kinou Nani Tabeta

I still get teary eyed just looking at the gifs. Chicken thighs as love. Shiro had me crying throughout most of season 2, but this moment absolutely wrecked me. There's something about Shiro's understated but deep way of loving Kenji that hits harder than any tragic scene ever could.

Love in the Big City

What can I even say about this scene. It destroyed me twice. First when I read it and then actually seeing it. I related too heavily to Young in this scene for reason I wrote about before, so I'll stop there before I start crying and don't stop.

Love for Love's Sake

This show had plenty of scenes that completely wrecked me, so I could've picked several. But this one was a gut punch that absolutely shattered my heart. It was just so overwhelming. And it felt like looking in a mirror.

She Loves to Cook, and She Loves to Eat

Not gonna go into it right now. Everything you need to know about how I feel about this scene and others like these can be found here. It healed something in me to watch it.

At 25:00 in Akasaka

"To get into character." I could hear his heart break into a million pieces. I still get goosebumps just thinking about it. Such an incredible scene and an amazing job by Komagine Kiita.

Life~Love on the Line

This is one of those where you had to be there. Cause I'm not gonna spoil anything. I live here, on this beach. Damn you Akira!

Time of Fever

THE HEATER BETWEEN THEM!!! (*waves at @colourme-feral*) This scene has taken permanent residence in my brain. These two had me in a choke hold for way too long, and this scene was just perfect in every way.

The Untamed

Scene of all time. Suffice it to say that I sometimes go back just to watch this scene. Or to read that chapter in the book. That's the effect this scene has on me. I love Wen Ning so much. The actors were great here. Jiang Cheng just makes me hate him and want to hug him, all at the same time. And seeing Lan Zhan putting the pieces together just ends me. Oh it's so good.

Light On Me

"During the time I couldn't see anything, and I was unaware, Noh Shin-Woo thought about me. He talked to me. The messages that remained unread and his feelings that weren't relayed, came pouring out to me, all at once." AAAAAAAHHHHHH. Confession of all time. That's all.

And last but certainly not least, truly an unforgettable bl moment....

Every You, Every Me

This scene had me laughing so hard. For that whole afternoon after I watched this episode, this scene kept coming back to me and I could not stop laughing. Carrots will never be the same.

And we come full circle, starting with chicken thighs and ending with carrots, proving once again, that food is ultimately the most memorable thing to me. This was hard because I wanted to include so many others that I love and think about and can't forget, but today these were it.

Tagging but as usual no pressure: @thisonelikesaliens @colourme-feral @abstractelysium @troubled-mind @italianpersonwithashippersheart @nabi-unveiled @yannig @theside-b @watchthisqqq @watchingblsnowandforever @littleragondin @he-is-lightning-in-a-bottle and if you see this and want to play consider yourself tagged here ➡️@ 💜

[meo-juice]

HAII ^^ can i request some headcanons on what it would be like to be part of the bakusquad ? i luvv how u characterize characters <33

being a part of the bakusquad headcanons ✩࿐࿔

͙͘͡ ★ author's note: thank you sm for the request anon!! i hope i can do it justice. bakusquad is bakugou, kirishima, sero, denki, and minaaaaa. requests are open!

͙͘͡ ★ cw: sfw, swearing, mentions of alcohol.

͙͘͡ ★ word count: 603

͙͘͡ ★ dividers by @cafekitsune on tumblr!

being sucked into the whirlwind of a friend group that happens to be the so-called bakusquad (much to it's namesake's dismay), each day brings a new possibility.

being greeted by mina by a knock on your door at the latest hours to paint your toenails and talk the craziest shit known to man. who's hot, who's not, drowning out the low murmur of 13 going on 30 and love island from your tv. she's always ready with hot glue and sequins to make the latest craft trends on tiktok.

kirishima waits for you by the front door every morning to walk you to class and catch up on the tea that he missed the previous night from mina. he is an honorary member of the girls. when the two of you hang out it's all about watching new anime and mocking them when needed. jojo's bizarre adventure is a joint favorite to make fun of but love at the same time.

sero likes to drag you guys out for morning hikes, with many complaints from denki. bakugou will huff but it'll quickly turn into a race for him to make it to the peak first. he always offers a cooldown afterwards with fast food to keep everyone happy. the two of you like to go on long rides with all the windows down blaring everything from taylor swift to radiohead and doing your best 2000's pop punk vocal impressions.

bakugou will greet you in passing each morning, which is a lot for him. sometimes he'll stop by your room to study because, "you're the only other one who fuckin' knows what's goin' on." he secretly just thinks it's nice to work alongside another person and corroborate ideas on paper and in the field.

denki will drag you anywhere and everywhere. sneaking out at 2am to go to the nearest walmart, laser tag and arcades where he always leaves butthurt after you show him what's up. you frequently watch old spongebob episodes and see whatever new games are on steam to try out together.

every friday night is what kirishima has proudly named family game night.

family game night includes several heated (sometimes physical) arguments over mario kart. it truly brings out the worst in people.

when the twister board gets laid out across the floor of whoever's poor soul is hosting that friday, it gets even more intense.

many of the colored circles have been blown through with crispy, blackened edges from bakugou's determined attempts to claim his victory. he never wins. he is about as flexible as a butter knife.

denki tries his hardest to get a couple six-packs back into the dorms. aizawa does in fact catch him every time. they've begun to build up in his own room, he doesn't know what tat kid is trying to drink.

despite friendships almost being broken over blue shells and a right hand on red, the night always ends with a pileup on the couch and a movie that kirishima never gets to pick- he always wants the avengers.

bakugou always heads back to his room before he actually falls asleep, far before anyone else. kirishima goes next, until you one by one drop like flies. it usually ends up with you and sero quietly trying to pick up trash and fold blankets without disturbing the sleeping crowd.

he'll always let you take whatever bed there is, opting for the floor among the tangled bodies below him because he's just too nice.

yet each night you fall asleep feeling the love from your friends. whether they're the type that admits it or not.

͙͘͡ ★ disclaimer: these characters do not belong to me! all written works are my own (meo-juice). please do not repost my work on other sites or apps than tumblr. thank you!

[damnitiloveyou]

I’m personally very thankful that we’re getting to do this without the presence of Liv or Seb. I just want Robron for now.

Well I would imagine that Seb will make his way back at some point. They killed Rebecca off for a reason. I try to be careful when talking about Liv because although I never cared for her, I have mutuals who did, and I want to be respectful of that. For me they just never got the writing for her, and especially her relationship with Aaron, correct. And it felt like she was initially introduced as a way to make the more conservative audience members more comfortable watching Robert and Aaron scenes. She felt like a buffer between them and the audience and I hated that.

We waited so long for the Robron reunion and then we didn't get to see any part of the two of them enjoying their reunion. Instead we got instant crazy over protective Aaron who didn't allow anyone to even scold her, and who got upset with Robert anytime he was justifiably upset with her. Then she was literally in most of their scenes. It was way too much way too fast and it didn't work on any level. They never even tried to separate her from Aaron and it was detrimental to both characters. She basically had one friend, Gabby, and they fought more than they got along. Her ace storyline had potential, but with the exception of her early relationship with Vinny, it wasn't really handled appropriately either. But many people loved seeing themselves represented on television so I'm glad they got to have that, even if the storyline wasn't always handled with the best of care. I liked her relationship with Robert more because the show at least had to put effort into writing it. It's the same reason why people liked Aaron and Seb, but not Robert and Seb. But they ruined Robert and Liv's relationship the moment Ryan left so it ended up being pointless. I'm not even going to talk about how toxic the Aaron and Liv relationship was prior to Danny's exit, but they were unwatchable together at that point.

For now I just want to enjoy the two of them dancing around their inevitability. I want mutual pining, arguments and AFFAIR 2.0. Seb can come back later but for now I want to just have them.

[amphitriteswife]

College students HC’s

Yes I know lookism is highschool stuff n shit but that’s why i’m doing the characters where we haven’t seen them in school

🚬 Probably got held a year back. No it’s not cause he’s stupid. It’s more because he’s doing everything BUT school. If he does pass, it’s not like it’s barely but it’s not necessarily high either. Just eh. Most of his grades range from the ‘60%-80%’ sometimes it’s lower, but it’s always the subjects he don’t give a shit about.

🚬 He spends most of his lunchbreaks smoking somewhere outside school property or in the bathroom. Literally everyone knows he smokes. Even the teachers. And yes they don’t really care, he smokes with them outside too. Even got offered a lighter n stuff

🚬 Economics, math, English, Japanese, p.e, surprisingly biology and science. He has a mix of things but ultimately avoids anything art related. He likes art, he appreciates a good painting or just any form of art. However, he can’t produce art and would rather not have art as a subject.

🚬 He’s that one kid that does one or multiple sports professionally and the school is BEGGING him on their hand and knees to join one of the school’s club. (To promote ) ofcourse he refused.

🚬 prince of the school. Can talk to anyone how he wants to, even teachers. Doesn’t get marked absent even if he is, which is surprisingly less than you’d expect and will even go to the person who handled to absents and stuff to give him a late ticket. Mind you he does this willingly. (He aint a bad student)

🚬 surprisingly eats school lunch??? You’d expect that he goes off campus to eat lunch or dislikes school lunch but that’s actually far from it. He doesn’t have an opinion on school lunch. It’s there. It’s necessary otherwise it wouldn’t be there. It has the bare minimum and he’s fine with that. As long as he can drink his protein drinks with it he’s pretty chill about it. Yes he sits with his….acquaintances (friends)

🚬 The school once called his dad for something and they at first got no one on the phone and they had to try other contacts like his uncle who usually picks up. However this time he also didn’t pick up so they had to call his mom. Bro’s mom went to the school and he had to apologize in front of her.

🚬 doesn’t really attend any school activity unless it’s about sport. If he does, it’s cause he got forced invited by his friends. No he doesn’t like the music. No he doesn’t like the drinks, he prefers protein drinks not cheap alcohol. No he’s not going to prom.

🚬 Ofcourse he rivals with Goo. But it gets at a peak when they both are put against each other in P.E. Even if it’s a team sport, you’ll see the two going for each other’s throat. No it doesn’t matter which sport. So far we had: beach volleyball, hockey, soccer, tennis, climbing, basketball, hiking, boxing, gymnastics, boothcamp, cycling, surfing and the worst of all, sailing. Yes till this day it’s still a tie. Yes they are also known as the iconic duo in the year book.

🚬 actually takes extra classes. Mostly in English, math and maybe something to do with his handwriting cause it’s not that great. All which are paid by his family and yes it’s not in school but some private ahh high end place.

💸 The one student everyone wonders why he hasn’t dropped out yet. Does he suck at school? Yes. Could he easily solve it if he just tried? Yes. Is this going to stop him? No. He just doesn’t see the point in academics. It’s not everything and you shouldn’t be defined by it.

💸 definitely that one student that is at least absent one day in the week. Yes he also skips classes. The teacher’s gave up hope. No he’s never late because if he is he just doesn’t show up at all.

💸 actually an art student (?) he does have economics and geography, but doesn’t like those subjects. He’s only there cause Jonggun is there and he has someone he can talk to. He does have History and that’s his best subject together with art and p.e

💸 That one student that’s always roaming the halls even if he’s supposed to be in class. Did he get sent out or did he just not show up? We don’t know. The school had to put in inspections because he had so many absents and they made him tali to the school therapist to see if something is going on at home.

💸 Probably sells something on campus. Could be everything from candy to drugs. No he is never and never will he caught. Bold to assume he’s actually PHYSICALLY selling them. He has minions.

💸 is part of the party counsel. If you have some outrages but within school budget school party or trip. It’s cause of him. For someone who doesn’t go to school a lot and seems reckless, he actually handles planning stuff very well. It’s one of his hidden talents.

💸 Probably got voted to be a stripper or millionaire in the year book. No in between. Yes he liked it, he voted that on himself too. May or may not have based the school party theme on that.

💸 eats food off campus. He will rather be caught dead than eat cafeteria food. He might get something out the vending machine. But that’s cause he eats in class to piss off the teachers.

💸 Goo’s the type of student that goes to his friend’s school for a dat and forgets his own. He’ll just sneak in or give the information needed to enter the school building, no one knows how he even knows the correct classes, teachers, names ect. But he just does. He joins most of the classed there and befriends random ppl for the day.

💸 Sometimes he joins Jonggun’s class. No Jonggun doesn’t like it. Goo usually distracts Jonggun or caused trouble which ends up with him being asked to leave the class. It’s usually biology and science that he joins. The biology teacher actually liked Goo cause it’s one of the subjects he’s interested in but didn’t want to choose. He likes to learn about animals and evolution and stuff. (Reference to when he was concerned about Ryan, aka eli’s cat, when Jonggun was talking about Hostel)

💸 graduated with a look of surprise (just barely) and didn’t show up to his won graduation. He just did something, already forgetting that he had school. Only found out when he was checking his mails and found a letter with his diploma in the envelope. (Probably put it somewhere and forgot about it)

[sharksandsquirrelsandsnakes-ohmy]

Bedtime Books and Brews

Teen Wolf | Sterek | General | 3,160 words

Masterlist | Read on AO3

Derek wrote an entire book because of a crush and will now win the cutes getting together story ever. He would agree to if he didn’t have to recount the story on a popular talk show while trying not to turn a million shades of read.

It all felt so cliche. How many times could you hear about how someone’s neighbors were being too loud so they went to work at a coffee shop/book store/library and ended up falling for the cute employee? Well, you’d have to hear it at least one more time is you wanted to know how Derek fell in love with Stiles.

His apartment was so loud. The couple next door just had a baby. They also either adopted a poltergeist or a cat, he wasn’t sure which, that liked to yowl at random and knocked thing off shelves constantly. It made Derek feel very thankful for his own cat, even if he would glare at Derek as if the noise were his fault.

Derek remember the frist time he told Stiles the cat’s name and how scandalized he was by it.

“You named your cat Darcy,” Stiles asked in object horror.

“What’s wrong with his name? It’s from—”

“Ya, ya. From Pride and Prejudice, which is the correct name to pick from that book, by the way, but that’s not a cat’s name!” Stiles was never still, even standing in place, he was waving and gesturing as he talked. “Cat names are– like– Cardboard or Salami or Shit Head or Cornelius.”

“Do you have a cat,” Derek asked and Stiles whipped out his phone.

“I have two,” he showed Derek a picture. “The grey one is Porkchop and the orange one is Abraham de Lacy Giuseppe Casey Thomas O'Malley,” Stiles said proudly.

Derek just stared at Stiles, who was trying very hard not to laugh. “The cat from Aristocats?”

“He is Thomas O’Malley the alley cat! Respect his title,” Stiles joked.

See, the trouble was, Derek did his best writing at night, meaning there weren’t that many places he could escape to for peace and quiet at nine in the evening. Maybe that was for the best, thought, because when he looked up open coffee shops, he found a little hideaway by the name of ‘Bedtime Books and Brews’.

It was a small, cluttered store but it made it feel inviting rather than hectic. With floor to ceiling book shelves, vining plants, and little reading nooks that were cut into the book shelves themselves, there were plenty of places to sit in the quiet and write. The dark green of the walls continued up to the ceiling where the usual harsh LED lights had been replaced with something softer. 

Derek found himself sitting among the classics where a high, locked shelf held special editions. The small table he settled at had a lamp that was meant to look like a candle but was just bright enough to see. He set his laptop on the table and set his notebook to the right. He carefully set out a pencil, a black pen, and an eraser. He looked to make sure he had each color of pen in his pencil pocket, each color corresponding to a different draft. Once everything was set, he only needed to write.

Clicking through ideas and drafts, he tried to find something that drew him in, something he wanted to write. Even if it was just a line or two or a random scene he’d fit in later but nothing came. 

Really, he needed to keep working on the next book in his mystery series, the series’s fanbase was up in arms about the cliffhanger of the last book– his main character had come home to find their entire house had be emptied while they were gone and their best friend missing. The trouble was, he wasn’t even sure how the cliffhanger should be sated. 

Sure, he knew what was supposed to happen and he’d been dropping small hints about it in previous books– the best friend was planted in the character’s life by the same organization that had ruined the character’s family business and framed his mother for it. He just… he couldn’t get the words out of his head other than to jot down the plot. So, there he was, looking for inspiration.

“Hey, welcome in,” a voice said and Derek looked up from his computer. 

Standing at the end of the isle of shelves was a tall man in a baggy, worn band-t with a flannel over shirt, jeans and beat-up sneakers. He had a pair of wired earbuds with only one in. He looked to be around Derek’s age, somewhere in his mid to late twenties, with messy brown hair and a bright smile even in the dim light. 

“Sorry, if I startled you. I’m Stiles and, uh, if you want coffee or want to know where anything is, I’ll be in the back at the counter,” He said, pointing at the register deeper into the store, and Derek nodded. “I, uh, also have hot tea and hot chocolate if that’s more your speed. And I just picked up some decaf coffee too, so I can make that. There’s also some cookies and brownies and banana bread too. If you like bananas, you’ll have to tell me how it tastes because it’s a new recipe…” He twisted his loose earbud between two fingers, fidgeting as he stood. “I’ll, uh… I’ll let you get back to whatever you were doing. Ya, I’m Stiles so just let me know if I can do anything for you.”

Stiles wandered away, mumbling something that Derek couldn't hear. 

With the brief interruption gone, Derek was once again left looking at a blank document. If he could just write something– one sentence– he’d feel better. Just something.

He closed his laptop and sighed. Looking around him again, his eyes caught on a large set of vines hanging down the shelves to his right. All of the hanging vines were coming from a single plant. He carefully touched the leaf, surprised that it was real. There were plants scattered amongst the shelves and he wondered if they were all real and how they survived in the dark space.

Derek stood, looking at the different editions of the stories he loved. He smiled when he found a copy of The Prince and the Pauper. His mother had read it to him when he was younger. She was a college English professor and had raised each of her kids with a love of reading. 

Derek had loved books for as long as he could remember. He’d never quite fit in as a kid so he found his greatest escape in the other worlds people created and dreamed of creating his own. In a book, he didn’t have to figure out what other people were thinking or how things he said would effect them. He could find patterns and foreshadowing to know what was next.

He wandered into the mystery section, curious to see if he could find his own name in the rows. He was still surprised and excited to find his own books in stores, even if his series had seen its five minutes of fame on social media– his friend Erica had sent him a video of people in a book recommendation group she was a part of ranting and raving about the first book. Sure enough, he came across his books on the shelf. 

He was surprised to see not just his series but a few of his stand alone novels. His face and ears turned pink at the discovery. Someone had purposely ordered his work, not just picking the popular releases.

“Are you a fan?”

Derek jumped, face burning red when he turned and saw Stiles next to him. 

This close, he could see Stiles’s face better. He could see the littered freckles and moles, the way the light cough in his brown eyes, his thick eyelashes, his fill lips. Derek’s heart jumped, doing nothing to help the red of his face. God, he felt like a stupid teenager.

Stiles laughed, “sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” He smiled, staring to put away the books in his arms. “Just putting some new arrivals away and I noticed you looking. The Fortune Lost series is one of my friends’ favorites at the moment. What did you think of the second book’s cliffhanger?”

“Have you read them,” Derek asked nervously. He really didn't like people in his day to day life knowing he'd written the series. He’d only told a few of his close friends and his family.

“Well, not exactly,” Stiles said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I got the double-whammy of ADHD and Dyslexia so I usually wait for an audio book but Lydia, she's totally hooked and she'll explain what happens so she can rant to me.

“But you have a bookstore?”

“Ya and there’s a whole section of books with that font that’s meant to help dyslexic people. It’s crazy that they don’t print every book in like that. The first time I saw it in an actual print book was Percy Jackson and it’s so cool the difference it makes. If only there was a font that would help with my inability to finish a series cause, you know, you finish it and it’s like losing the characters but I guess that’s what fanfiction’s for, right?”

Derek nodded, “it is. So you can tell your own version.”

“Man, I wish I could write stories like that,” Stiles said, putting away the last few books he was holding. “I always end up in a mess of words and bad explanations and nothings in the right place. I think a toddler could tell a story better. It really sucks, too, because– you know how people will, like tell themself a story to get to bed– I’ve been making up stories and details about the same world in my head since I was, like, five. I mean, I made up detailed magic systems and what money they use and the way people look and how they talk and their jobs and the creatures they keep and—” Stiles glanced at Derek and cut himself off. “Sorry, I know you don’t really care. I tend to ramble. Do you want coffee or tea or…”

But Derek did care. He did want to know more, but how could he ask with out seeming weird? “What kind of tea do you have?”

Stiles smiled and waved for Derek to follow him up to the counter.

“I like that you don’t play music,” Derek said as he followed Stiles to the coffee bar.

“Huh? Oh, ya. I think must people prefer to listen to their own music anyway, especially if they’re working in the shelves so It just ends up getting distracting. Plus, not everyone likes the same music and my music doesn’t really fit the chill, cozy vibe,” Stiles explain, rounding the counter. “Anything specific you like? Or don’t like? Or are allergic too?”

“I don’t like green tea.”

“Oh, I’m totally with you there,” Stiles agreed with a laugh. “Actually, I think I have one you’ll like.” He opened a cabinet and started to move boxes of tea. He finally grabbed a bag of loose leaf tea and showed it to Derek. “They named it ‘The Fox and the Wolf’ but it’s a cinnamon and raspberry black tea. Interested?”

“Sure,” Derek said and Stiles turned to start fixing his cup. 

Derek tried to find the right way to ask about the fantasy world Stiles had been talking about but it sounded weird however he worded it. He repeated the question in different ways in his head, trying to find one that sounded better. 

“I really like this tea,” Stiles said, scooping some of the leaves into a bag and starting the kettle. “I got it a ren fair the first time and now I order it off their website. I actually get emails from them every time they restock because they know it’s one of my favorites. I usually end up buying, like, three bags at a time because I’ll get on these kicks where I won’t drink anything else and water is water, you know?” 

Derek nodded. “Sometimes I’ll go days where the only thing I can eat are arepas.”

Stiles smiled at Derek. “I do too! But, like, with fettuccine alfredo from this awesome pasta place off tenth street. They know my order as soon as they read my name!”

“I go to the same bakery every Saturday for breakfast and get the same thing every time.”

“I love being a regular at places like that because they know you and then they start to care and it’s a fun little conversation every time you go in.” the kettle beeped and Stiles poured Derek’s tea and set it in front of him. “Hey, maybe this can be a regular thing,” he said. “Ah, but not worries if not! Do you want some banana bread?”

“No, this is good,” Derek said. “My name’s Derek.”

“Like the author,” Stiles asked. 

Derek nodded. Had Stiles figured out he was the author Derek Hale? 

“That’s pretty funny. Is that why you started reading his books?”

“I guess,” Derek mumbled. “Do you… Do you want to tell me about your fantasy world? Since you can’t write it…”

Stiles paused, his smile growing bigger. “Really? You want to know about it?” Derek nodded and and Stiles laughed. “Wow, uh, ya. Where to start? So there’s a bunch of character in the story and they all have really detailed backstories about how they end up meeting. My favorite backstory is definitely Henrik because his family are all able to understand animals and they became the more prolific magical animal trainers– I mean, duh, they can communicate with them– but he can’t do that. He has, like, no magical ability and it totally ended up causing him to be seen as less capable so he decides to train a dragon because even his family won’t attempt to train dragons out of fear.”

Derek sat and listened to Stiles. He asked questions and picked out his favorite parts. Derek found himself wanting to hear more. He wanted to know everything. He sat and listened for so long that someone came in to take Stiles’s place.

“Hey, man,” the guy said, patting Stiles on the shoulder as he rounded the counter. “Shift change time.”

“It’s two already,” Stiles asked and Derek was just as surprised.  

“Ya, bro. Two in the morning, meaning it’s time for you to leave,” the other guy said. “Go home and get some sleep or you’re going to die later.”

It only took once for Derek to get hooked– on the story, on the store, on the tea, on Stiles– and he started coming back. After a few days, He figured out that Stiles worked from seven pm to two am Tuesday through Saturday and the shop was closed on Monday nights. 

Every night, Stiles would tell Derek about a character or a backstory or some hyper specific detail he’d made up in the years he’d spent daydreaming about this world. Derek wasn’t sure when it happened but he started making notes after Stiles would leave. 

He would use his forest green pen and writing down everything he remembered as he sat in the classic literature section with the candle-lamp on. 

Then his notes turned into stories. The first one he wrote was Henrik’s backstory. If he ran into a detail he wasn’t sure about, Derek would make a note of it, highlight it in the document in green and would ask Stiles. He wanted to put Stiles’s story into words for him. He wanted to bring everything Stiles fantasized about to life. Derek was sure by the time he was done, even Tolkien would be impressed by the detail given to the world. 

Derek really hadn’t intended for it to become a book– he was a mystery writer, not a fantasy writer– but it had. Each chapter switched between Stiles’s characters, telling each of their stories until they met. 

He put Stiles’s name before his as the author. In the preface, he explained how the book had come to be, that Stiles gave him every detail and he just made it readable. Then he printed it out.

He printed out eight hundred seventy two pages and then he had it bound.

Derek didn’t know how much time he’d spent on it, how long he’d talked to Stiles in the year since they met, how long he’d spent figuring out with fonts were best for dyslexia, or why he’d gone so far with it. What he did know is that he put Stiles’s fantasy world on paper in a way he’d be able to read it. 

He knew he wanted to make Stiles happy and that was enough.

The next day that Stiles worked, Derek changed his routine. He didn’t go to the classics section. He didn’t put out his computer or his notebook. He didn’t set out his pens or spent an hour writing. No, he walked right to the counter where Stiles was labeling books.

“Hey Der!” Stiles smiled at him, checking the time to see if he’d lost track, but he hadn’t. Derek was changing his routine, the one he’d set in stone over the past year. “Something’s different. Care to share,” he asked, noticing how nervous Derek looked.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he opened his backpack and pulled out the manuscript, setting it in front of Stiles.

“What’s this,” he asked, looking at the book. His smile fell as he read the authors’ names. “This is crazy, I’ve never written anything and I’ve definitely never written anything with Derek Hale!”

Derek took a breath. “You didn’t write it but I did.” He reached over, flipping the book to the preface. “These are your stories, the ones you’ve been telling me. You told me how they should go, down to the smallest detail, and I wrote them out.” He took a breath. “I’m Derek Hale. I wrote Foggy grave, Coriander and Lye, and the fortune lost series. When you found me looking at my books on the shelf, I just wanted to see if they were there. And I may have written this but they’re your stories.”

  Stiles flipped through the book, looking at his stories. He read his thought out to paper. Every word, every detail, every random detail had been fit in. Things that couldn’t be worked into the body of the story were written as epigraphs st the start of chapters. 

“This is— this may be the best thing anyone has ever done for me. Like, this is proposal level shit. Like, I’d be an idiot not to— Date me? Marry me? You made my literal dream into a book!”

[beveronica]

I think Yumeko and Kira should be endgame at this point. No other person could ever keep up with someone like Yumeko besides Kira. Their rivalry is so intriguing and enticing to the viewers because they both challenge each other in ways no other character could ever live up to. That’s why I’m looking forward for season 2 desperately cause I wanna see how them finally trusting each other would play out. They’d be too unstoppable together in my opinion. Two competent baddies getting the job done. Kira is smart and quick (even when she was losing her grip the entire season), she figured out about Yumeko’s past in just a few hours, was able to clean up messes without pinning it down to her or Yumeko. She has insider knowledge on how exactly they can end the board, she trained so hard to be the student representative, to have a seat at that table, she knows how this system functions. Yumeko on the other hand, showed Kira there’s more beyond that circle, that there’s more ways to face reality (ugh i love the symbolism w breaking the puzzle box, indicating theres no rules). Yumeko was the one that made Kira see the bigger picture. However, Yumeko has tunnel vision sometimes, as competent and brilliant as she is, her thirst for vengeance would screw her up and KIRA KNOWS THIS. They complete each other in that sense, they can both see each other’s weaknesses and help each other overcome them. Kira can see the smaller details, Yumeko can see the bigger picture. Red and Blue, Ice and Fire, Yin and Yang, a Timurov and a Jabami. THEY ARE SOULMATES TO ME. LIKE ITS RIGHT THERE. It’s explicitly said in the show that their paths were forged by their legacy, Yumeko when her parents were murdered, Kira with the pressure of being Arkadi’s daughter, they both laughed at it but that changed something in them. That moment made them realize their motivations are aligned. These two lost souls, entertaining as rivals but powerful as one. FREAK4FREAK. THEY’RE A MATCHING SET-

[fishyaudio]

Why is godmode your favourite rw ship? Curious :>

Also do you know/play Hollow Knight

Thanks for the ask right away!!

First off, I know Hollow Knight but have yet to play it when I'll have more free time. I know I'll like it and my body cannot handle more fixations than the massive one I have on Rain World at once /hj

Godmode storytime;

The funniest thing about getting obsessed with this ship for me is that I started out as someone who didn't really engage in fandoms and had the mindset of "why would I ship something that's not canon? Those characters didn't even meet, that makes zero sense!" before Rain World. And look at me now, neck deep into a ship of two slugcats that ony had a non-canon interaction in a joke dating sim.

At first I got more into barbecue (Arti x Gourmand), because how I saw them personalitywise really made them click for me and I wouldn't have even considered godmode if not for this one animatic:

It changed my brain chemistry a bit. While personally I don't see Inv and Saint as both gods of the world they reside in, I love the idea of them having opposite midsets and goals and kinda balancing each other out.

I've always seen Saint's goals and doings as really ambiguous. To me, they aren't a god, aren't an evil creature, but a being with a mission that could be debated upon in terms of its necessity. Is their time loop really a destined routine for them to ensure others will get their ending? Or does Saint just feel that way about their futile goal and despite their struggles and determination, the Cycle never truthly ends?

We get a lot of hints that the world isn't really fully dying, it's transforming. The way the Undergrowth blooms, how Moon mentions a new Cycle unfolding, one that the Iterators needn't be a part of. I feel like the overall idea to just shut the lights off for everyone and everything, while in line with the Ancients' worldview and with a lot of good intentions, isn't really a 100% right one to execute. From Saint's pov especially with how it affects them, making her go through literal hell (rubicon) and back to continue her mission. Almost as if the world itself was pushing them back from gifting this finality upon everyone with its circular nature. And despite all of that, they push on. Always so stubborn in their narrow worldview, with one goal only. An Echo tied to the Cycle they want to end so bad.

And then there's Enot. A flirty, unserious joke character. A character that also went through absolute hell in her campagin. Constantly gets all of the most terrible things thrown at her. A total mystery of a being that's more of a cryptid and a glitch in the system than an actual, playable character with her own story and goals like the other campagins. And with all of that, I like to imagine that he still manages to have a good laugh at it. Is always able to find something funny in the situation he's in. Learn to enjoy the chaos around him and take advantage of it. Love the world as is because that's the only one he has. And I personally find this reading of Enot really damn comforting + a tad more complex one rather than just a hopeless romantic and/or violent sinner and/or a gamer freak. A sinning hopeless romantic gamer with depth! And emotional baggage!

When I think of these two together, I always see it in the context of Inv being somehow thrown into Saint's campagin and not leaving their new friend's side. I feel like both of them wouldn't pass an opportunity for a companion after they both were alone for so long. I love how their worldviews would clash and force them to think more about the lives they had led before. Imagine the shock that Saint would feel when hearing Enot say that Saint's world, the one they have considered cruel and dying, is all sunshine and rainbows in comparison to what insane and absurd things she experienced in her home. Moreover, the home she managed to call her own and appreciate a bit in the end. And not because she lost her mind or something, no. Enot is still very clever and empathetic.

I even made a whole comic about this particular interaction idea when it comes to their different ideas about the supposed finality of the Cycle.

Also: I just think they're neat and should hold hands and kiss

freaks of nature

[a-ikus]

134 “THE UNSENT PROJECT” PROMPTS

disclaimer: i do not own any of these prompts, i compiled these from the unsent project

01 — i keep wondering what my life would’ve been like if you had chosen me instead of her. 02 — i have a lot of hope for us. too much. 03 — i still stay up hoping you’ll call. 04 — i was so angry for so long. 05 — i think about you everyday and i’m sorry i didn’t say more when we said goodbye. 06 — i’ll always have a place for you in my heart. but i need to accept you’re happier without me now. 07 — i hate that i always have to think of what we never were when i’m remembering you. 08 — it’s scary how much you haunt me even after so long. 09 — every time my phone buzzes i hope it’s you missing me, but it never is. 10 — sometimes i wish that you chose me. 11 — happy birthday, i miss you so badly, i wish you’d given me more time. 12 — i’m over you. 13 — please come back. please. 14 — i know i can be better to you than he is. please give us a chance. 15 — i can’t love you the way you wanted to be loved. 16 — if you asked me, i’d say yes in a heartbeat. i’ll wait for you until whenever. 17 — i love you so much but i hate being just a friend. 18 — i never missed you until you were someone else’s. 19 — maybe if we loved each other less we would have realised it needed to end sooner. 20 — i miss you so much, i wish we didn’t break up. i loved our life together. please come home. 21 — you remind me of snow, falling quietly at midnight. 22 — i can’t just be friends with you because friends don’t DO what we did. 23 — is it sad i’d wait forever for you? 24 — you aren’t allowed to look at me like that anymore. 25 — i dreamt that we kissed and goddammit i wish it was real. 26 — i still get butterflies whenever you hold my hand. 27 — i can honestly say that i can’t stop thinking about you, please get out of my head. 28 — i get this feeling in my stomach when you text me and i love it. 29 — why is letting go so hard? if you can do it, then why can’t i? 30 — we blamed distance, we blamed youth. i think i was just scared of having something real. i wish we tried again.

31 — i sat next to someone on a 6 hour bus journey and told him our story. 32 — i miss the days when i woke up to a morning message. guess i’m not the first thing on your mind anymore. 33 — you didn’t love me. you just loved the fact you weren’t alone. 34 — over a year and i still haven’t met anyone worthy of replacing you. 35 — i still have the heart next to your name in my phone. 36 — you’ll marry him in two weeks and my heart will die that day. 37 — what was the point of everything just to be strangers in the end? 38 — I HATE YOU WITH MY WHOLE HEART WHY DO I STILL CARE ABOUT YOU?? 39 — your music always sucked and i’m so glad i don’t have to act like it’s good anymore. 40 — we were supposed to have a happy ending. 41 — i guess we had different definitions of love. 42 — you were all that i could think about when i was with him. 43 — i know you don’t feel the same and that’s okay. 44 — i hope she makes you happy. i hope she was worth it. i wish i’d never met you. 45 — i think i really like you but i’m scared of what others would say about us. 46 — i think i’m in love with you and when you kissed me today i didn’t know what to do. 47 — i still wish you fought a little harder that night, i still love you. we can always try again. 48 — i’m getting really tired of tearing up all our photos. 49 — how terrifying it is to know you completely and not at all. 50 — i love you, sorry i didn’t say it back, i was scared. 51 — sorry i blocked you. i just couldn’t stop thinking about you. 52 — i based a character in my book after you. 53 — i felt a different kind of love with you. a quiet, calm one. 54 — does your girlfriend know we still hook up? 55 — marry her. it’s okay. 56 — i’d trade 7 years of stability for 7 hours with you. 57 — i know you reused the playlist you made me with another girl. 58 — i remember you soft, even if you never were. 59 — i drive down different roads but they all lead back to you. 60 — i left, and look how you’ve grown. i told you so.

61 — just date me bro, it’s not that hard. 62 — happy late bday i didn’t forget, trust me, hope you’re doing good. 63 — i’m glad i’ve forgotten how good it was. 64 — i thought you were going to leave me, so i left you first. i’m sorry. 65 — OKAY FINE I LOVE YOU! I CAN’T STOP THINKING ABOUT YOU! 66 — i know it’s a lot to ask but please just wait for me. 67 — i love you in a way i’m not supposed to. 68 — come visit my dreams tonight. i miss you. 69 — last week i was with the girl i told you not to worry about. 70 — sometimes i read all of our old conversations to feel something. 71 — our story deserves a better goodbye… maybe someday. 72 — everyone told me they thought we were going to get married. 73 — you miss him don’t you? 74 — i noticed when you fell out of love… i just never said anything. 75 — you promised me. 76 — give her everything you never gave me. 77 — it’s not fair how you can kiss me like that and feel nothing. 78 — you wouldn’t leave if you had something you wanted to stay for. 79 — i wish we could’ve been something. anything. 80 — i saw so many shooting stars on the bridge that night. i should have wished to see you again. 81 — your name is like a lump in my throat. i’ve never yearned this desperately for anything. 82 — i stay up late in case you wanna talk. 83 — you’re the first person i ever showed my heart to and you’re the reason no one will ever see it again. 84 — you’re in every song, in every sky, in every star, you’re in every dream. 85 — i miss you every time my keyboard suggests your name. 86 — you look like the rest of my life. 87 — there is not a single song on my phone that doesn’t make me think of you. 88 — won’t you at least hold my hand in public? are you ashamed of me? 89 — i still smile when you call. i know i’ll be a guest at your wedding someday. idk how i’ll bear it. 90 — he’s so good for me, but i miss you.

91 — hope life brings us back together sometime. coincidences exist… you were my favourite one. 92 — you see me differently than everyone else does. thank you. 93 — i want you so fucking bad!! 94 — sometimes its the ‘what ifs’ that torture me the most. 95 — i love you so much that i typed it all out and it wouldn’t fit. 96 — i have about two failed talking stages left in me before i start casting spells for you again. 97 — i love you so much, i pray every night that i get to keep you. 98 — i remember every detail of what you told me that night. i doubt you even remember my last name. 99 — i wish you knew how much i wish we had worked out. 100 — sometimes i wonder what would’ve happened if it were you. if it were us. 101 — i stare at my ceiling trying to figure out what went wrong. i’d like to think you do too. 102 — i wanted you to fight for me. 103 — when you find your way back, don’t call, i’m finally happy. 104 — i never thought i’d meet someone like you. thank you for saving my life. 105 — i miss you but don’t ever fucking come back. 106 — i can’t believe i never told you how hard i fell for you. i would’ve done anything to be yours. 107 — still you. 108 — i am terrified i will never feel such an intense connection to someone again. 109 — god knows i tried my best with you. 110 — i keep seeing you in everyone. i wish i didn’t. i don’t know if i know you anymore. 111 — happy would-have-been 4 years… all those fragments still cut me. 112 — i look forward to the day that every time i see an astrology article i don’t check yours. 113 — you broke your arm and i just want to call you. it’s weird that i don’t know everything about you anymore. 114 — why did i have to find you at the wrong time? 115 — do you ever wear the necklace i gave you? i still wear my half… 116 — i cried tears of happiness when i realised i was finally over you. 117 — i miss how easy things used to be between us. 118 — we didn’t grow apart. you gave up. 119 — are you as head over heels as i am? 120 — all i can do is sit here and watch you grow into the wonderful person i once called mine…

121 — i don’t want to just love you. i want our souls to merge. 122 — you deserve the world and i wanna be the one to give it to you. 123 — can we just go back to how it was in the summer? 124 — you only miss me at night. 125 — thank you for being my place to go when i can’t go home. 126 — if you’re that lonely, come be lonely with me. 127 — just say you miss me and i’m all yours. 128 — will it always be like this between us? 129 — tell me you love me. 130 — it’s your loss. 131 — i sometimes wonder if i was just a rebound to you. 132 — my finger hovers over the send button every night. i just can’t hit it. 133 — you gave her the love i begged you to give me. 134 — why not me? WHY not me? why NOT me? why not ME?

[gears-twisting-and-turning]

Plot twist I'm asking for the Bochum Engines this time. (Just for some variety) The first time racing with them, as their S/O on top of that. The world finds out that coach/truck/ freight reader is dating a champion racer on their first race together.

(As always you don't have to do all of them)

😘❤️❤️❣️

You know what? It might be a lot, but just because I haven’t done anything like the internationals yet I’m still doing all of them. Call me stupid, but I feel like it.

This took so long and I’m very sorry. I’ve been going through a lot lately and even though I love Stex I’ve also fallen a bit out of the fandom, but I’ll most likely still accept requests. They will remain closed for now. I did see a show in London lately and it reignited the feeling to get back to writing so yaaaay :] it was amazing and shout out to my friend for getting me a ticket and being so amazingly sweet for it <3 

Also I was fighting demons to try and make all of these somewhat different from one another-

---

Coco

This is one of the proudest women in the fucking world. So the fact that you’re behind her makes her even more insufferable in that regard. To the others that is, she cannot stop bragging- That’s just a plus for you though

She has no doubt in her mind that she’ll win together with you. You’re perfect for her after all so there is no way that you will slow her down in any way. You two will win together and you will celebrate with each other’s company in the end

This might be the first time riding with you, but the two of you know each other so well by now that she knows, not thinks, knows that it will go perfectly.

Then you have the others finding out about you being Coco’s S/O. They’re actually shocked, what do you mean Coco has a partner? And one she debuts during a race?!...

Actually that’s very in character for her and the moment the others realize this, they all just kind of. Deadpan? I think that’s the best way of saying it. They do congratulate you and her for being together.

The only one who has a problem with it is Bobo. Because how dare his sister not tell him that she has a partner?! He’ll act super obnoxious and dramatic about this fact. Coco just tells you to ignore him.

In the end Coco is just proud of you for being behind her and supporting her like that. She’s so immensely happy that she could show you off like that. Especially because she knows her partner will be the spotlight in every single room.

No, you cannot convince her otherwise. Don’t even try, she might just show you off anymore. Or do if you like being paraded around and the attention you’ll get.

Bobo

“FINALLY!” Yeah no he’s been waiting for a long time for the next race or in general the fact he could race with you behind him. He absolutely loves the fact he can show you off and is literally no better than Coco, even though he’d like to try and deny it often.

He’s making sure everything is absolutely perfect for this and the moment the announcement comes in calling out your and Bobo’s names, he takes all the applause and points at you to get the audience to clap for you as well.

Nobody is surprised that Bobo has a S/O because he literally will not shut the fuck up about you. He absolutely loves talking about you, showing you off, reminding everyone you exist that the moment he shows you off it’s kind of a long time coming.

Coco just greets you after the race, as she’s seen you before and has to hear Bobo constantly talk about you. Please save her, she’s sick and tired. She wishes to talk about literally anything else, even though you’re wonderful.

Either way he’s honestly at his best when you’re behind him, easily swerving and going through the motions of the race. Before you know it, it’s the end of the race and the two of you did amazing as expected.

He will shower you in attention afterwards and is just so happy that you would race with him. Careful though if you’re not much of a racer, he’ll just kind of look at you with batting eyelashes until you’re ready to do it again as he loves racing with you.

Bobo would never push you into doing what you don’t want to do, but he is a bit of a whiny baby about it, trust me. 

Espresso

Will absolutely attack you in kisses the moment you want to race together with him. Oh he would be so incredibly happy and honored and he could just eat you, you’re so cute.

You’d think he’d not be able to be more extravagant with his acts of love and such things like that, and yet here he is making himself shine even more than he usually does, just to look perfect for you when he races with you

Please ask him to do your makeup for the race, trust me he’ll love it so much. He’ll make sure to put extra details in there to make you so beautiful that you’ll definitely take the breath of the audience away.

At this point the competition needs sunglasses with how shiny and bright the two of you are. Which honestly would work in your favor so don’t change anything no matter what anyone says.

I will say that I feel Electra in the background would be so offended that you two are more shiny than his LEDs and like that’s funny so continue to rub it in, it’ll be funny.

With Espresso people finding out about the relationship is the same exact thing as with Bobo: Nobody is surprised. Like at all. He constantly gushes about your beauty and your shared interests and how cute you are when talking about interests he doesn’t understand for a moment.

Doesn’t stop him from continuing to show you off, his talks about you now finally being able to be viewed by every and all trains in the yard as well as the audience. He’s so proud to call you his and he’ll continue to show it off.

Ruhrgold

Super honored, but does give you a bit of a warning with how dangerous it is to race. Especially after last year when he almost was thrown off the railing by Greaseball and absolutely beaten, he’s very hesitant to let his S/O do anything honestly.

After a lot of convincing and ensuring that you’ll be okay, he does agree in the end. He does love the idea of having you behind him, it makes his day even. Be prepared to be very protected though, because he won’t let anyone touch you before, during and after the race. 

People are actually quite shocked about the fact that Ruhrgold has a partner. Everyone would just be surprised as he does seem the one to be open enough to share he has one, but honestly it would just be things slipping his mind as other things are more important to talk about at that moment or other understandable reasons.

Honestly they’d love to meet you though! I think it’s the only proper introduction you’re going to get in this line up honestly. He introduces you to all the engines, kind of blocking you still in case someone thinks they can snatch you away cough GREASEBALL AND ELECTRA COUGH COUGH. 

In the end though he enjoys the race with you. After realizing that you won’t just go down by a little hit he feels a lot better and does his best with you behind him. He’s incredibly proud of you and although he won’t know how to properly say it, he’ll definitely show you how proud he is!

Manga

Very honored that you would want to ride with him. The moment he asked he played it cool, but you could see a spark in his eyes light up as he agreed to race with you.

Will be extremely humble about it and honestly would talk to you about how you would like to be treated during all of this. Would you just like to join him behind him and enjoy the moment like the normal races go? Would you like him to go a bit out of his way to show you off?

The moment the two of you come out, he’ll stick to what you two discussed. He’s polite like that. Although you can practically see him beaming for you to be behind him as the two of you get announced. 

I don’t think people are surprised by the fact that he is together with someone. Manga is pretty mysterious and so people don’t know much about his private life, because of this they know to not expect anything, but also not to cross anything off.

Either way everyone is rather nice to you. Outside of the race that is, we all know how crazy the races can get… and do get.

Manga truly enjoys racing together with you and is just happy that you two participated. As long as you two are safe and have fun, that’s all he really cares about. Obviously he’ll do his best, but he won’t throw a tantrum if he loses. 

He’s just happy he didn’t crash this time-

Turnov

Honestly a bit unsure, after all if you look at just how crazy and intense the races are, you’d understand why he wouldn’t be too happy to just thrust you into that position. After all, if you're a threat, people will want to get rid of you.

After a bit of back and forth he does eventually cave and let you race behind him. Be warned though, if someone even slightly touches you he’s throwing hands. This man will fight for your honor, do not test him.

Honestly I think people would be surprised to see him together with someone. He isn’t really the person to be showing off, so for him to like let the entire world see his partner behind him in the race? It’s shocking to say the least.

The two of you absolutely kill it in the race. As you two are completely in sync as well as a power couple. You won’t let people get in cheap shots and Turnov would rather crash than let anybody touch you.

In the end he shows you off a bit, proud of you. After that he needs to recharge though, instead of celebrating he’ll grab you and have a night in. Enjoying your company.

He’s really sweet, but rather quiet when it comes to post race stuff. He needs to regain his energy and so he makes sure to just take it easy with you so he can properly celebrate with you.

Brexit 

Man’s so happy that he can finally race and he gets to race with you? Double win for him. After all the last time he tried to race he kind of had to drop out so the fact he gets to actually do this now.

Oh how he’ll talk non stop about how he’s super excited to race with you. It’s just so thrilling, the races, with other worthy opponents and with you behind him. He can picture it so clearly already.

The moment the race is on and the two of you get announced I feel most engines are rather shocked at the sight of Brexit together with anyone, but they get over it quickly as they decide to just focus on the race.

Both of you work together rather perfectly and smoothly, but due to the way the race goes you guys don’t particularly win. 

Brexit does not really give a shit though, he was just happy to have raced with you. Normally he cares a lot more about winning and yet he can’t seem to give himself a shit when he’s with you.

He celebrates the race with you either way, winning or losing. He’s just happy you’ve had your first race together and can’t be more proud of you and himself. Expect him to spoil you a bit after everything

Electra

It wasn’t a given that you were going to race with them?- Well. Eh. You’re racing with him, I don’t think you have much of a choice with this diva.

She wants to win, but also looks pretty. You’re her partner so you’d work perfectly with them and you’re fucking eye candy come on you’re racing with him, get your ass in gear.

The first time officially racing with them is still something rather special though. So he makes sure to be extra shiny and such to make sure you are completely pampered before the first race you two will go into together.

Not going to lie the components really pamper you as well and it’s almost like you’re going to prom more than going to your first race with Electra, not that you’re complaining though.

The moment you step out together with them the only shock that comes to everyone, is how Electra pulled another component out of his ass- They truly think you’re one of the components at first and that he had you be home for some reason.

Electra is almost offended, but then again the idea of you as his component rings absolutely right in her ears. Either way she didn’t bother with the other engines and is just set on winning.

The race is everything he wants it to be. Both flashy and fast. Electra is absolutely happy with the end of it and decides to immediately pull his entourage behind him together with you to celebrate. He doesn’t even bother with interviews this time, aren’t you a lucky carriage? 

Greaseball

Oh you know that he would love for you to be behind him while he races. I feel if you’re the one to ask he’d like practically spit out anything he was drinking and then try to keep it cool.

Either way he’d be like practically waiting for you to race behind him. We all know how much he likes showing off his partners. Especially in something as flashy as the races. 

Why didn’t he ask himself? Well he has a pride and reputation to uphold and since he’s seen as the whole heartbreaker he waited for you to ask. As well as he totally didn’t want to accidentally force you- what Greaseball being thoughtful? Unheard of.

Either way he’s happy to finally have you behind him for the race. He’d probably be even more pleased if you end up matching colors with him, oh he’d be almost on his knees. Figuratively of course, can’t have people thinking he’s a simp.

As for people finding out. People are honestly really baffled. Everyone was thinking that he was dating Dinah- Since when? What? Hah? They’re confused to say the least. A shock factor that might help in the race.

Then for Greaseball he’s extremely proud to be showing off as the one behind him in the race. Like look at his amazing partner, they look so amazing and you’re gonna look even better when he wins the race.

After the race he decides to spin you around while picking you up and carry you to a celebration together. The two of you deserved it and nobody will tell him otherwise.

Rusty

He’d be so excited and happy! He’s someone’s first pick? Oh he’s so happy, he lets out a few whistles of happiness and says that he won’t let you down. He’s not about to show that you shouldn’t race with him again, he’s going to show you made the right choice.

He’ll even try to shine himself up as much as he can so you just have a partner you can be proud of being behind. What he doesn’t realize is that you’d love him either way, he doesn’t have to do good in the race for you to enjoy yourself.

When you come out with him I think people would actually be a lot more respectful due to the last race, so they won’t like to harass you for being with a rusty steamer. You can't help to see some side glances and hear some under their breath comments, you don’t pay attention to them though.

Honestly with you behind him I think Rusty kind of crushes the competition, he’s just so set on proving to you he’s good to race behind, as well as so happy that you are behind him. In the end he’s just like “See? Told you that you wouldn’t regret your decision.”

Just hit him with a “I would’ve never regretted it, even if we lost Rusty.” And he’d be all blushy and cute. He’ll definitely celebrate his win with you and doesn’t really care for all the official victory laps and such things like that. 

He’s so happy he got to race with you.