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godslino · 5 months

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Everything okay?”

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

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

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

He shifts on his feet, still unsure.

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

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

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

Guilt, maybe, amongst other things.

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

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

“Have fun. Tell Minah I said hi.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I’m sorry for your loss.

Your grandmother was a wonderful woman.

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

Oh, what a lie forever is.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t give me that look.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Off-kilter. Disoriented. Exhausted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A stranger. But undoubtedly Jisung.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And in Jeju– it rains.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You could come with me, you know.”

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

The air was cold. The apple tree was bare.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love you too,” you whispered back.

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

“But I can’t.” you choked.

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

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

And in Jeju– it rained.

“I think you should talk to him.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jisung’s not a dick, he’s just–”

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

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

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

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

“Four.” you correct.

“God, even worse.” he grimaces.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well?” Hyunjin pushes. “Are you?”

You shrug. “No, not really.”

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

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

“But we were supposed to get lunch—!”

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

You gape at him. “What was that for?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can you be honest with me?”

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

“Do you love him?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You blink. “Hi, Jisung.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry that–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know.”

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

“I–” his voice cracks. “I know.”

“You lied to me.”

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

“I know.”

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

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

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

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

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

You’re only human, after all.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi Mrs. Kim, how have you been?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I mean, it was yours.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So, naturally, you do it for him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, you don’t.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I was being nice!”

“Uh huh.”

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

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

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

“No there isn’t!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ready?” you ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You. Him. This.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Since when did you get good at this?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Look at you throwing a tantrum.”

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

“Okay fine. I’m throwing a tantrum.”

“Thought so.”

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

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

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

“I didn’t–”

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

He smiles. Slow and sweet like molasses. Blinding.

“And the fact that you suck.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Play something good, Jisungie.”

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

“You got it.”

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

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

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

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

Jisung, Jisung, Jisung.

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

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

Jisung lets out a low whistle. “Harsh.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” you blink. “What the hell?!”

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

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

“Magic, I guess.” he chuckles.

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

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

Things are different now.

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

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

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

“Hi.” you whisper against him.

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

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

“Hi.” he whispers back.

The apple tree is much bigger now.

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

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

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

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

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

“Ji.”

“Hm?”

“Can I ask you something?”

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

“Of course.”

“Am I ever gonna see you again?”

He takes a deep breath. “Yes.”

“You said that last time.”

“I know.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t be like that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s not what I said.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Did you ever even love me?”

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

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

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

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

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

“No, Jisung, you promised me that–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jisung stops by the shop early to say goodbye.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jesus Christ Hyune, did you have to–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You are so stupid.” Hyunjin sighs.

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

“Come on. We have to go.”

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

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

“What is that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can you be honest with me?” he asks.

You nod, slowly.

“Do you love him?”

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

“So much that it hurts, Hyune.”

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

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

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

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

“I’ll send them to you.”

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

“I’ll manage.”

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

“I’ll miss you.” you say weakly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The airport is crowded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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GOODBYES ARE BITTERSWEET | Sebastian Vettel ✩₊˚.⋆ PART 4: FAMILIAR [PREVIOUS PART] [NEXT PART]

goodbyes are bittersweet masterlist f1 masterlist | ao3 | ask anything or let's talk!

ferrari sebastian vettel x ex gf!female reader

word count: 3811

summary: seb comes back home as a surprise only to see that hanna and a little mysterious girl receive them... instead of y/n, who was supposed to finally meet him

warnings: settled on may 2018. curse words, angst, seb and little emily meeting but they don't know who they are to each other, seb being VERY suspicious. seb pov.

taglist: [ @saltycomicsanimalssalad @hc-dutch @mycenterfold @simplyamberj @spitesfvl-blog @jaydaaasworld @lottalove4evelyn @zoeyjadetice2010 @jehun @ferralari @cosmoscoffeee @mcmuppet @myescapefromthislife @sleutherclaw @youre-on-your-ownkid ]

a/n: i haven't said anything, BUT taylor made a mashup for her surprise songs in warsaw night 2 that is an absolute spoiler of this series (if you know it TELL ME ON ANON BECAUSE I LITERALLY SCREAMED). anyways, we're back with an update FINALLY. sorry to make you wait (really, i wasn't doing mentally ok and I'm still struggling but here we are!), but in the next chapter we'll have y/n and seb finally meeting... but for the moments I'll wait to see your comments, anon messages and reactions (please please please) about everything that happens on this chapter and how suspicious seb's gonna be (hope you fangirl and like everything as much as i did writing this) + also remind you that feedback and reposts are truly appreciated. thank you for all the support you've been showing me these days, love you all <3

2018

May 3rd Heppenheim, Germany

Sebastian

The exhaustion was piling up in my body, and I knew that what I was doing was crazy. I was fully aware that facing my past with just two hours of sleep was quite risky, but I couldn't wait to see Y/N again. As soon as Hanna told me she had spoken to her and gave me the green light to visit her, I forced Britta to buy me a plane ticket to Cologne to head home as soon as I finished some Ferrari ads and all that shit I absolutely hated in Maranello. My excitement and nerves were so intense that I didn't even tell anything to my parents or Fabian, who would probably go crazy for not telling them earlier.

I let go of the suitcase reluctantly and, to my misfortune, it fell to the floor with a rather noticeable thud. I sighed and did my best to ignore it, ringing the doorbell and leaning against the wall while holding the bouquet of tulips I had bought for Y/N. I knew it was silly, but I was excited to have this small gesture as a sort of belated birthday gift for her.

"Who is it?"

I was notably surprised when, instead of my mother’s voice, a child’s one chirped the question.

"It’s Seb," I replied, trying not to make a big deal out of the situation. Maybe it was just the daughter, or even granddaughter, of one of my mother’s friends.

"I don’t know any Seb! Who is it?" she asked again, this time with a slightly annoyed tone.

"I’m Sebastian."

"Sorry, but I only know two Sebastians: one is the crab from The Little Mermaid, and the other one is the man who sometimes appears on TV at Grandma’s house."

I couldn’t help but laugh. Whoever that little girl was, she was the best thing I had come across in a long time.

"Mum also says I can’t open the door to strangers, so I can’t let you in. I’m sorry, sir."

"But my parents live here," I replied as calmly as I could. It was clear that the lack of sleep was affecting my patience.

"Are you Mr. Norbert’s secret son?!"

"Emily, let me open the door!"

The door suddenly opened, revealing a somewhat out-of-breath Hanna, as if she had come running to open it and was now trying to catch her breath. Next to her was a girl about five years old, with completely blonde and curly hair that reached roughly to her waist. The little one didn’t hesitate to smile and greet me with her right hand, and almost immediately, her eyes widened as she made eye contact with me. When I turned my gaze back to my friend I was quite surprised. Her skin, which was already pale, had turned even paler for no apparent reason. The girl, however, kept looking at me, curious and, in my perception, somewhat pleased.

Had Hanna become a mother and didn’t tell me?

Before I could react or say anything, the door slammed shut in my face, not giving me a chance to say anything. My surprise came when, a few seconds later, it opened again, revealing the same scene.

“You’re…” she started to say, hesitating. She was nervous, and her nerves only made me more anxious. “Seb… but not…”

“Is something wrong, Hanna?”

Instead of answering, she remained completely silent. I knew something was wrong as soon as she started to look at the ground instead of looking at me.

“Hanna?”

“Aunt Hanna…” the little girl, still by her side, intervened, trying to get her attention by tugging at her sweater sleeve. “The man who appears on TV with the red car is talking to you,” I widened my eyes, surprised. Did the girl know me? “Mom says that when someone talks to you, you should respond; it’s rude not to.”

“Do you know who I am?” I asked the little girl, crouching to her level.

“Of course I know you…!”

“Hey, sweetie, why don’t you go play outside for a while?” My friend intervened before the little girl could finish. “Sebastian and I need to talk about some things, okay?”

“Did mommy have a surprise for me and that’s why she brought him?” the girl asked curiously, pointing at me. “Mommy said she was going to bring me a surprise when she came back from…”

“Emily, that’s enough! Go outside and we’ll talk about mom's surprise later. We can even call her if you want, okay?”

Prater’s shout startled the girl, who simply picked up a stuffed panda from the couch and a red car that looked quite similar to the one I had in Formula 1 back in 2015. As soon as Hanna turned back to her, scolding her once more, she ran towards the yard.

I found it amusing that, when my friend turned back to me, that curly-haired blonde girl peeked around the door, trying not to let us see her, possibly feeling quite curious about what we had to discuss.

It didn’t bother me at all, but exactly the opposite. I used to do the same when I was a child and my parents had friends coming home.

“Are you here or not, Sebastian?”

Hanna quickly brushed her hand over my face. I immediately shifted my gaze from the little girl and refocused on her. She had her arms crossed, her sweater sleeves rolled up, and her face was completely red.

I wasn’t sure if she was angry with little Emily, with me, or with the situation, though she had no reason to be. After all, I was the one who had come to my parents’ house, my home, to get ready to see Y/N. It wasn’t my problem that I had encountered Hanna and this mysterious girl here, without any prior notice. At least, I didn’t see it as such.

“I’ve been here since I arrived, Hanna. You’re the one who’s gone crazy seeing me show up,” I responded tersely.

“You could have told me that you were coming.”

“Do I need to give an exact day for when I’ll be back home? Can’t I give my parents a fucking surprise?”

“Didn’t you consider that your parents might be running errands at this time? Or that…”

I left her talking to herself because the last thing I wanted was to argue, especially over something trivial like this. Her behavior was stressing me out too much, and that was the last thing I needed, especially considering that my ex and I might run into each other at any moment.

Without saying anything else, I headed to the kitchen to find a vase for the tulips for Y/N before they wilted. While filling it with water, I noticed the little girl. She was engrossed with that red toy car, moving it back and forth while murmuring commands with what seemed to be an attempt of technical Formula 1 words. She pushed her curls out of her face and suddenly decided to include the panda bear in the game.

I stared at the girl. Her face seemed familiar… too familiar, in fact. I didn’t know exactly what it was, but I had a feeling I had seen her before in Heppenheim, though I didn’t remember seeing her as part of any family of my parents’ friends.

I tried to downplay the fleeting thought when Hanna arrived, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed and, as I had guessed upon looking back, with a rather unfriendly expression.

Her eyes were analyzing me, I knew it perfectly. I sighed and placed the vase on the counter, arranging the tulips as best as I could while trying to ignore her behavior.

"Are they for Y/N?" she finally asked.

"Who else would they be for?"

"She isn’t here," she said abruptly, dropping the news.

Silence fell between us once again. I raised my gaze so quickly that I almost felt a bit dizzy. All she did was look at me, unable to continue the conversation or, at least, undecided on whether to continue it or not. Finally, after a few seconds, she decided to speak again:

"I know I told you she’d be here this week, but…" she hesitated. It was the first time I had seen her like this, and she was by no means the self-assured Hanna I had known since the first day of school. “Damn it, Seb, I shouldn’t be telling you this, but…”

"Does she have a boyfriend?"

That was the first thing that came to mind, and I immediately regretted blurting it out. Hanna laughed so hard that Emily, who was now chasing a butterfly, stopped dead in her tracks to see what was happening to her supposed aunt.

Hanna approached me. She gave me a few pats on the chest and then on the head, before giving me a hug that caught me off guard.

"How naive you are, Sebastian Vettel… Do you really think Y/N would have a boyfriend? Can you picture her having one?"

"Well, it's been five years since she broke up with me. It's about time she moved on, so I find it normal."

"Have you moved on? Do you have some secret girlfriend you haven’t told us about, Mr. Privacy?"

I didn’t answer, which was enough for her to know we were in the same romantic situation.

"I've slept with a few girls all these years, but I’ve never looked for anything serious," I confessed.

"Well, I’m afraid to tell you that you’re in the same boat as Y/N then. As far as I know, she hasn’t slept with anyone, although it’s understandable, considering she has…”

And before she could say anything more, she stopped talking. Again.

If the situation between us had calmed down, it had now become tense again. It was the second time that day, at least as far as I had noticed, that Hanna Prater seemed to have let something slip. I looked at her, searching her expressions for something that would give me a hint about what she wanted to say; she simply looked away and headed to the living room, sitting on the sofa and changing the channel from some cartoon pigs to the local Heppenheim news channel.

"What does Y/N have, Hanna? Or who does she have?"

"Y/N is in London, Seb," she finally revealed with a sigh, as if it was hard for her to tell me. “I know it’s not my place to tell you this, and even less that she would like you to know, but after your breakup… she has some contacts.”

"What kind of contacts are you talking about?" I wanted to know. Had she done something I wasn’t aware of? Was she in trouble?

"To say it briefly, because the story is too long, a guy from this very famous boyband back in the day decided to come here for a while to find inspiration for new music and see what to do with his solo career," she explained. “Call it coincidence, luck or an act of God, but Niall ended up going to the bar where Y/N works and, well… the rest is history.”

I didn’t know what to say… Yes, I hoped things were going a bit better for her than when we were together, but that she had met someone as important as that guy seemed…

"The thing is, Y/N is in London right now. But she’ll be back, so don’t worry. She’s been there for several days," Hanna continued. "Niall isn’t particularly good at keeping secrets, and since he knew she was the face behind Red, he had the bright idea of mentioning it to his label who, luckily, said they’d like to meet with Y/N to offer her a contract."

"And did you know any of this before telling me to come, or…?"

I tried not to sound angry, but the truth was I was, at least a little. To be more exact, I was more than just angry… I was upset. Upset simply because Y/N, knowing I had asked if she was the face behind that viral video that was having so much success, and now considering that she had a possibly important meeting with that record label, hadn’t bothered to respond not only to my question but also to my birthday wishes.

I felt really bad because, despite being the person who probably knew y/n better than anyone else in the world, it seemed like the opposite.

"Y/N didn’t tell me anything until the day before she left," she confessed quietly. "I swear, Seb, she was so reluctant to go that I even thought she wouldn’t go and you two would finally get to talk about everything…” Once again, a pause full of uncertainty gnawed at me from within. “The only thing she said to me before going to London was that she wasn’t going to sign anything and that she was going only because she hadn’t traveled since you two were together, and she actually was doing that because she needed to disconnect and think about a few things.”

"So… did she go for nothing?"

"She doesn’t want to sign any record deal, Seb. She just wants to put her life in order and continue it as it is now. She doesn’t need anything more than what she has."

I didn’t know what to say, but I had a thousand conflicting thoughts swirling in my head right now. It struck me as very strange that my ex-girlfriend didn’t want to accept a record deal. That was everything Y/N had worked for in this life, and now, when she had the opportunity, she was turning it down…

Maybe Britta was right and the Y/N I knew was now just a mere ghost of my past, still haunting my life to torment me with the answers I never got.

"Y/N should accept it," was all I could say, impassive to what my ears had just heard. "I can’t believe she’d turn down something she’s fought for so many years…”

Suddenly, a melody from a song I didn’t recognize started playing in the room. Emily appeared with a phone in her hand and ran to give it to Hanna who, upon looking at the screen, became quite alarmed.

"Sorry, Seb, it’s important…" she said without taking her eyes off the phone. "Emily, stay here with Seb, okay? I’ll be right back…”

Hanna left faster than I would have liked, leaving me alone with the little girl, who again kept staring at me.

"You’re just like on TV..."

The little blonde girl came up to me, too close, and began examining me closely. She placed her small hands on my cheeks and moved them across my face. I was sure she was leaving little traces of dirt, but I didn’t mind when I saw she couldn’t stop smiling and laughing.

"If my mommy were here, she’d be very happy to see you," she said, sitting next to me.

"Does your mom know who I am?"

She nodded.

"Mommy watches you on TV every day," she revealed. "Well, not every day, but when you’re on granny’s TV on weekends, she spends hours and hours watching you at your work!"

"So your mom likes Formula 1, huh?"

"What’s that?" she asked innocently. However, before I could say anything, she spoke again. "Oh, I remember now! That’s what’s on TV where the cars go really fast, right? And you drive one of them, don’t you?"

I nodded slightly while laughing.

"Mommy says it’s very dangerous and sometimes she’s scared about what might happen to you. Mommy really likes you a lot, you know? Why don’t you go out with her and be my daddy?"

"Sometimes it is a bit dangerous, yes, but don’t worry: today there are many safety measures to keep us safe, and we also take a lot of care when we drive,” I said quietly, trying to sound as calm as possible and ignoring her last request. Did this girl not have a present father?

The girl frowned, not very convinced by my answer and, possibly, upset by ignoring part of what she was surely eager to know. Her eyes, a shade of blue that was neither dark nor light, looked at me with curiosity.

"Have you ever hurt yourself while driving your red car?" she asked again, interested.

"Well, um…" I hesitated for a moment on what words to choose so as not to alarm her further. "Sometimes we have small bumps, but the barriers on the track protect us when we go off."

Emily seemed more at ease with the softened version of reality, although she still looked worried and upset. I didn’t know why I was telling her all this considering she was probably no older than five and I might be scaring her.

"Hey, now tell me something about you, since I’m on holidays and I don’t want to talk about my work! What do you like to do? I don’t know anything about you yet!"

Her eyes lit up when I asked her that. My main intention was to change the subject, but something inside me was glad to see her so happy when I showed some kind of interest in her.

"I love to paint and play!" she exclaimed. "I also like going to the park with mummy, dancing and singing at her work! And I also like tales!"

"What’s your favorite tale?"

“Mommy always tells me one about a prince who is part of a blue team and takes part in an important game every year, and he always wins! And in the end, he falls in love with a very pretty waitress, and they have a little baby and take care of it together, and they’re very happy!”

I got in absolute shock at her words.

Could it...?

No, it’s impossible, there’s no way that’s some kind of version of my story with Y/N. It must be the exhaustion and all the hustle and bustle of these last few days that are starting to make my head a mess.

I didn’t know what else to say, so while I tried to sort my thoughts, we sat in silence for a while. I changed the channel from the local one to the cartoons that had been on earlier to keep Emily entertained.

The little one didn’t say anything else, but she did snuggle up to me as if she had known me for much more than less than an hour.

When some amount of time had passed, I felt slight tugs on my shirt. I hadn’t realized I had closed my eyes and had dozed off a little. Emily’s little smile brought me back to reality:

“Is something wrong, little one?” I asked, worried that something had happened to her.

“Aunt Hanna is still on the phone, and Peppa Pig is over,” she pointed to the TV with her little hand. “And you probably have to leave soon... Mrs. Heike and Mr. Norbert are coming back any moment now!”

“But this is my house. I’m not going anywhere,” I said, trying not to laugh. “Heike and Norbert are my parents. Do you remember that I told you that before?”

She nodded, relieved and partly remembering that we had talked about it earlier. From her face, I knew she was about to say something more, but I didn’t hear her when I noticed my phone vibrating in my pocket.

I tried to disconnect as much as possible when I was on “vacation,” but given that it could be an important work issue, I decided to check what the notification was about.

To my absolute surprise, it was a message from Y/N:

Hi, Seb.

I’m so sorry for not replying to you earlier. I completely forgot...

I really wanted to, but with one thing and another, it’s been impossible. Hanna has probably talked to you about it, so I won’t say much more so I don’t stress you out more than you probably already are.

I promise that the next time you come, I’ll be there, and we’ll talk about whatever you want.

I think we have quite a few things to discuss about, and I hope you’re not upset with me when that happens.

I read the message more times than I could count, not believing what my eyes were seeing. Relief mixed with confusion at the last sentence. “I think we have quite a bit to discuss, and I hope you’re not upset with me when that happens” didn’t make me think of anything good, especially coming from Y/N.

I took some time to reply, maybe hoping that Hanna, who I saw was coming back into the house, could help me. I started to worry again when I saw a forced smile on her face, as if she was trying to hide something, just as she seemed to have been doing all day.

I started to hear the door lock and then it opening. I knew perfectly by the way of walking that it was my parents, and Emily seemed to know it as well. The little one jumped off the sofa and ran towards them, which surprised me quite a bit.

I only did the same, except I stood up as calmly as I could, with a kind of fear I couldn’t explain.

“You’ve come back home!” the little girl shouted excitedly, bouncing up and down. “Mrs. Heike, Mrs. Heike! Can I ask you something now that your son, the one who drives cars and is very liked by mom, is here?”

My mother looked at the little girl, and then at me. Her face changed completely when she realized that Emily wasn’t lying and that I was, in fact, back home. I didn’t know what Hanna was like at that moment, but I would swear she was more distressed than she had been all day.

Even my father, who normally was a person who didn’t get flustered by anything, seemed quite nervous.

Emily and I, however, seemed to be the only ones who weren’t catching on and were living in our bubble of innocence.

“Does your mommy have a nickname for you, Sebastian?” the little one asked me in a low voice, calling me by my name for the first time. Then she asked me to bend down and carefully placed her hand on my ear to tell me something so that no one would hear. “My mommy says I’m the sunshine of her life, but she always says to me not to tell anyone, that she calling me that way is a secret between us. No one answers me why when I ask them, do you know why?”

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simplyreveries · 9 months

Note

hello hello!! just wanted to say your blog is super cute!! could I request platonic! dorm leaders with a very very affectionate yuu. like hugging, cheek kisses, the full nine yards. GN reader please!

sorry if my message wasn't clear 😭

have a good day/night!

💐anon

ty ty!!

riddle rosehearts

he was so incredibly flustered when you first started to show him lots of affection. he tries to keep his composure and push you away slightly while clearing his throat deeming that it's not appropriate! but it's just ever since he broke down after his overblot and then you've gotten close to him (well you barge into his life and make him your friend immediately) that you've been so utterly loving and sweet with him. something he is not particularly used to.

whenever you come by some celebration or unbirthday party you always eagerly come find him and hug him giving pecks on the cheeks. he’ll nervously pull away and thank you for coming, but he felt quite smiley and warm inside. because you usually greet him in such a fashion and refuse to be put off by his need for formalities, he has been accustomed to you doing that all the time whenever you see him. he doesn't necessarily reciprocate it but sometimes you may feel him wrap his arms around you and quickly pulls away.

his temper can easily be calmed down if you're around, he does feel much softer around you… lowkey though he does get a litttleee bit jealous with ace or deuce if you're equally as affectionate with your other friends as well. he can't help it.

leona kingscholar

nope nope leona totally pushed you away the first few (many times) you'd happily come up and try to hug him or kiss him on the cheek. he refused to let you be all affectionate with him, he would simply huff annoyed pushing you away. especially if you try to do anything like that around other people.

it'd take him a while to even warm up to it even a little, but with enough of your own persistence he gives in little by little soon enough. you've upgraded to being able to give him hugs without him giving you some glare and pulling away… he's lost the energy to try at this point you're too eager to find and hug him. he’ll rub his forehead “you're giving me a headache, herbivore.”, but once again doesn't make much of an attempt to push you away anymore.

ok… he still gives you this look, but he's better about it. like when you vote up to him after magishift practice (that he finally went to) and gift him a supportive pat on the back or hook your arm around his to drag him to show him something. the only time he somewhat reciprocated it was genuinely if you seemed distressed or upset about something, like your current situation in twisted wonderland or dealing with stress- he sighed as he wrapped one of his arms around you when you came in for a hug.

azul ashengrotto

he was so surprised at your affection initially but like riddle carefully pushes you away to maintain his image. nevertheless, you still are insistent on giving him so much attention. I’d like to think that after seeing his more… emotional and irrational side during the events of chapter 3 only made you want to dote on your friend more.

whenever you come and find him to give him a quick hug and to check up on him during late hours at the mostro lounge and just ask him about his day and what is he doing. he is slightly taken aback but like the others he's gotten pretty used to your affectionate behavior, he’ll chuckle confused, clearing his throat and thank you for asking. he is not used to this in really any way. in fact, if you think about it… this is probably the first time he's had someone he’s considers himself close to be so affectionate and kind. not wanting anything from him in return but to just be okay??

once he's more comfortable, he will somewhat reciprocate a little, something like placing a hand on your back when you pull away from hugging him. he won't admit it, but he does love the attention from you, it's something he never realized it's what he needed.

kalim al-asim

oh, he's definitely just as affectionate with his friends, if not more than you. kalim will happily hug you back and squeeze you tightly or kiss you back on the cheek and giggle. he's glad to have someone who can understand his affection's, unlike some people haha. he just has so much love to give to everyone.

he always greets you with a big hug, in fact it's basically a habitual thing between you two whenever you see each other on campus he’ll greet you with a big hug all happy every time he sees you. when kalim gets excited to tell you about something he’ll playfully swing your arm and asking you to come over to scarabia because he's holding some sort off celebration, or sometimes he likes to laugh and tell you he's tired as he lays his head on your shoulder.

he always tells you how much he loves the affection from you, you'll always get some cheeky “hehe thank you!” from him. he claims you cheer him up and help him all the time whenever you're all affectionate with him.

vil schoenheit

vil is affectionate in his own ways, i mean, ever since i saw the way he treated yuu and the others during chapter 6 when he kisses them on the forehead in a reassuring manner it made me melt. he definitely is lowkey about it to those he considers close to him. though he doesn't reciprocate much at times, he does appreciate small gestures.

like he will sigh and begin to smooth out his clothing or fix his hair after you hug him, he may even fix yourself up as well if your ribbon is tilted or uniform seems crinkled. but he’ll give you some afterwords shaking his head, giving a small smile “tsk, how troublesome” he’d say.

vil is quite observant though, if he were to notice you don't seem as affectionate with others or try to be with him he’ll definitely see and ask you if you're doing alright. he's surprisingly very sweet with his words. he can't help but consider you dear to him now, if you really seem troubled and worried about something, maybe feeling hopeless because crowley hasn't found a way home yet. he will give you honest advice and if you're lucky a kiss on the forehead as well.

idia shroud

he's so ??!! instant brain malfunction when you first come up to him and kiss him on the cheek, seemingly worried but relieved that he's okay after what went down in his chapter, once you got back to NRC. he will freeze up and feel unsure of what to exactly do because he's so awkward with these things.

the first time he hugged you back was a little tough for him at first (he just gave you that small and awkward pat on the back haha) and immediately pulled away, he feels himself burning up from embarrassment, but you're just so persistent, it does make it easier for him when you're so understanding and kind.

he does get more and more comfortable with you especially after inviting you or sleepovers with him and ortho at ignihyde and they're really fun. at that point he's totally okay having you close by as you're laying with a bunch of blankets, pillows and snacks close together playing videogames with him. he's grown to love it actually, as he casually talks and dumps everything he loves and knows about the game hehe.

malleus draconia

malleus was pleasantly surprised with your sudden affection, though he has known you for a while throughout the game, so he already has kind of gotten the idea you're a naturally friendly and overly affectionate with those close to you. he does notice how you are with grim and the others when out. but when you actually come up and hug him? he's shocked, you? a human would just come up to someone like him and hug him? going on your tippy toes to kiss his cheek when saying thanks for coming to the music festival with him??

after the initial surprise he chuckles placing a hand on your head “you’re quite the brave and unusual one, child of man” he loves that most about you though. he admires and thinks its endearing how often and without even thinking twice about giving him affection and calling him your own friend.

soon enough during the nights when he visits the outside of ramshackle dorm and you come to find him, he’ll gently stretch out his arms already knowing you're going to greet him with a hug. and you just know, his hugs are the warmest and most gentle things ever.

#twst #disney twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twst headcanons #twst imagines #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland headcanons #riddle x reader #leona x reader #azul x reader #kalim x reader #vil x reader #idia x reader #malleus x reader

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pickingupmymercedes · 2 months

Note

Hello! I'm the girl with filthy ideas but this time I'm not here to ask for something dirty. I'm out of my country alone in a university dorm, and I just had my four wisdom teeth removed and I'm extremely spoiled and sensitive, so I just want you to please write something Where Lewis pampers and takes care of his girl during her recovery from surgery, lots of pampering and love. Thank you.

Hiiii my favorite anon!!

I'm soooo sorry it took me a whole month to get this out, I'm sure you're all recovered now, but I hope everything went well ❤️❤️

I drabbled something to apologize for how long it took though?! Hope you like it.

"That's what I'm here for" and "You're spoiling me rotten"

The scent of the dentist lingered on Y/n's clothes even hours after getting home. The surgery, though minor and on her mouth, had left her drained and sore all over.

Lewis had manage to transform their London apartment into a haven. In the living room, where she'd spend the majority of the next week, pillows were strategically placed on the sofa, creating a makeshift nest, blankets draped invitingly, and a fluffy heating pad was nestled at the small of Y/n's back.

The hum of the television played in the background as Lewis kept a close gaze upon his very sleepy and drowsy girlfriend.

Painkillers were neatly arranged on the coffee table beside a glass of water, a bouquet of her favorite flowers added a touch of cheer. He'd even bought a stuffed animal, Patches the Panda with its bandaid and get better message, placed by the tv, a silent promise of companionship.

Lewis had warned everyone he'd be taking meetings from home, determined to be with her until, at least, she could eat solids.

He'd prepped a grocery list a mile long, ensuring a steady stream of healthy and delicious meals wouldn't be a concern.

Y/n sighed contentedly as he brought her closer to him on the sofa. Having Lewis by her side made everything a little less daunting. She drifted to a light doze, the warmth of the heating pad and the gentle murmur of Lewis' voice a soothing lullaby.

The aroma of sizzling garlic and fresh herbs drifted into the living room, jolting Y/n awake. Her stomach rumbled, a sweet reminder that she hadn't eaten much all day. Lewis appeared in the doorway, a chef's towel slung over his shoulder, a content glint in his eyes.

"Alright, sleepyhead," he announced, holding up a bowl steaming a bit and smelling a lot like his tomate soup "Dinner is served."

The plate looked so good it almost made Y/n forget the initial twinge of discomfort she felt when while trying to stretch she felt her stitches. Lewis swooped in before she could even attempt to move again.

"Nope" he said firmly but gently, placing a hand on her shoulder and pushing her back against the pillows. "That's what I'm here for."

Lewis propped her up with more pillows, creating a perfect backrest. He placed a small table on her lap, the surface covered with a crisp white napkin where he carefully set down the bowl.

"Let me know if you need anything else," he said, a soft smile playing on his lips. He leaned in, placing a quick kiss on her forehead. "You just relax and enjoy"

Y/n giggled, a genuine, unrestrained sound that warmed Lewis' heart. It was a far cry from the weak smiles and forced joviality she'd managed all day.

Lewis chuckled, returning to the kitchen and reappearing with a glass of cold-pressed juice and a straw. He held it out to her, watching as she took a hesitant sip.

"See?" he said, amusement dancing in his eyes. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

Y/n shook her head, taking another sip. The juice was refreshing, contrasting perfectly to the warm savory flavors of the food.

"Wow," she murmured, surprise evident in her voice. "This is actually really good, Lewis."

"Thank you" he replied with a mock bow. "I'm all booked for the next three to four days but I'm sure I could arrange something for you after that, miss." he jocked as Y/n laughed again.

"You're spoiling me rotten," Y/n said between spoons, the playful smile still tugging at her lips.

"You deserve to be spoiled rotten" he countered sincerely. "Now, finish your food so I can bring you some ice cream. Doctor's orders."

______________________________________________________________

TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @happy-golden-hour @vicurious28

@0710khj @thecubanator2 @neilakk @bigratbitchsworld @adriswrld

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If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

#Ella500 #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 scenario #f1 x reader #lewis hamilton #lh #lh44 #lewis #lewis x reader #lewis imagine #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton one shot #lewis hamilton imagine #lh44 x reader #lh44 imagine #lewis hamilton x you

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dokries · 3 months

Note

Hi! I was wondering if I could request a secretly dating in a friend group fic possibly with the prompt “Not sure I can go the whole day without kissing you." Or like they get caught by someone else in the friend group. I was thinking either Seungkwan or Hao. A little angsty/ comforting and pretty fluffy! I love all of your drabbles they’re so fun to read. Thank you!

no need to hide

pairing: boo seungkwan x gender neutral reader

genre: fluff, comfort, established (secret) relationship

word count: 805

warnings: reader feeling a little insecure, a few kisses, chan is bullied as always

author note: thank you for requesting anon ! it means so much to me that you love my work 🫶 honestly this was a really cool idea to write, and i hope you like it :> (let me know if you do by dropping an ask!)

masterlist

you and seungkwan haven’t told the others about the fact that you’re dating just yet, and you know he wishes he could be open about it.

after all, he loves public affection, even with just his friends. you’ll always see him hanging off of vernon’s shoulder or holding joshua’s hand—or yours but that’s something he can only do in private. he would rather be loud and proud of his love for you, and not have to keep it hidden in glances and smiles across the room.

when you told seungkwan that you didn’t want to tell the others, he had asked you why, adjusting his shoulder so your head was more comfortable as you watched whatever romcom he had put on for your first inaugural date night.

“i just…listen,” you paused the movie, sitting upright so you could face your boyfriend. “i do love you but i don’t want anything to happen in case we find out that we don’t want to date anymore. like—of course, i don’t want us to break up but we’re still so new.”

seungkwan hesitated before reaching out to hold your hands in his, saying your name softly. “yeah, i get what you mean but…i hope you know that i don’t think we’ll end up like that, and the guys wouldn’t hate us for it or anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

you sighed, moving back to rest your head on his shoulder once again, and he placed a kiss on your temple. “your feelings are valid, trust me. so maybe we can see in a few weeks—or months, if that’s what you prefer, sweetie?”

you nodded and he smiled, putting the movie back on.

right now though, he can see you don’t want to be at seungcheol’s apartment with everyone else. you look uncomfortable beside him so he silently takes your hand, and your shoulders immediately are more relaxed as you squeeze back a thanks.

as the night progresses, you seem to feel better, and he makes a mental note to question you about what’s wrong later, when they’re not around everyone else. that time comes earlier than he thought it would though, as you message him after saying you were going to get a drink of water.

you ❙

kwannie can you come to the kitchen?

we need to talk

my boo 🫶 ❙

on my way ♡

he excuses himself from his conversation with vernon to follow you, and he smiles nervously at you near the sink.

“sweetie, is something wrong?” he asks, taking your hand again.

you shake your head before changing your mind and nodding. “i uh…i have something i need to say.”

seungkwan looks at you worriedly, and squeezes your hand, urging you to go on. “what’s up?”

you quickly kiss him on the cheek, and grin at his shocked face. “i just needed to see you so we could, you know…be lovey dovey.”

seungkwan smiles back at you before kissing you on the lips, and tucking your hair behind your ear.

“i get it.” he smirks, before whispering, “i’m not sure if i could go the whole day without kissing you at least once.”

you giggle and he moves to hug you, and continues to litter your face with kisses until you hear a clang, and you both look up, alarmed at the faces of minghao, and seokmin, who just dropped his plate on the ground—thankfully, it’s made of plastic, so it only bounces off the hardwood floor.

“um…” seungkwan starts, looking at you again before up at his two friends, gulping.

you break away from seungkwan, and without thinking, intertwine your hands again, taking a protective stance.

seungkwan looks at you in confusion as you start to speak. “uh, we have something to tell you.”

minghao raises an eyebrow at your hands. “clearly.”

seungkwan grins, squeezing your hand. “we’re dating!” he looks at you giddily before running out of the kitchen to the living room, where most of the guys stare at you—except jeonghan because he’s napping. he’s seungkwan’s roommate, so he probably already knows anyway, and was keeping it a secret for the two of you.

he looks at you and melts, and everyone in the room groans, already knowing how lovestruck seungkwan’s been since the beginning, even before you started dating.

“finally!” chan says, holding his hands up to the ceiling. “thank you!”

seungkwan glares at chan before turning back to you, your friend group already moving on—to be honest, they already kind of knew; the two of you aren’t as slick as you think you are.

your boyfriend boops your nose before making space for the two of you on the couch to cuddle, kicking chan off despite his protests.

you kiss seungkwan on the cheek, and smile. “hey, at least we don’t have to hide anymore, right?”

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kurokens · 3 months

Text

Everything I Love Will Make Me Cry | Satosugu

anime/manga: jujutsu kaisen

character: gojo satoru & geto suguru

words: 1.5k

pronouns: they/them

request: none

notes: part 3 of In The Middle, my first satosugu piece. trying stg new by including some texts in the middle but idk if i'm a fan, just didn't know how to convey it better than this way.. don't judge the quality of the text this is an app i used to use back in 2020 and i didn't want to try and find a new one. also thank u to 🪼 anon, ur message helped me get out of writer block, this one for u!!

not proof read

song rec: Everything I Love Will Make Me Cry - Movning

genre: hurt comfort, fluff, slowburn, a little bit angsty, poly?

warnings: satosugu are in a loving relationship, misunderstanding, pinning, a lot of pinning on satosugu's end, reader is so oblivious, insecure and self conscious reader

Taking all of your clothes and getting out of the apartment was probably one of the hardest thing you ever had to do in your life. Especially what forced you to do it. But what else could you do? You no longer were welcomed there, and you knew it, the longer you stayed and the worse it would hurt. So you took advantage of both of your roomates being gone for the day to pack your essentials, write a note and get out of there. Not without your vision blurred by your tears. You didn't really plan your next moves but it felt like an evidence to just go and crash at Shoko's, such an evidence that you refused to do it. After all she was just as close with these two as you were, well, as you used to, so it would be quite an awkward position for her, and you refused to impose this on her. That's how you found yourself at the door of an old friend of yours, looking like a kicked puppy. "What are you doing looking like a sad little puppy?" Namami said after opening the door.

"Please don't, I already told you, and I don't want to cry any more than I've already did." You replied in a whine, to which he just gave a roll of his eyes, stepping aside to let you in.

"Haibara is in the kitchen, he is making some food for you. He thought you could use a warm meal right now." The blonde man told you, leading you towards the kitchen.

"M'not really hungry though..." You sighed, following him without another complaint.

"Ah! Don't say that, I've poured my soul into this meal. You better eat and appreciate it!!" Haibara exclaimed, popping his head through the door after hearing you two coming his way. "I made your favourite!"

"It smells wonderful Yū, I'll eat it, just for you. And enjoy it, that's for sure." You giggled, seeing his enthusiam and the effort he put into this, pulling the younger boy in your arms.

"You can stay here as long as you need. And I promise I won't say a word to Satoru and Suguru about your whereabouts." Nanami chimed in, a soft smile on his face at your interactions.

"Haha, you don't have to worry about that. They're probably not gonna look for me at all, on the contrary." You whispered the last part, tears starting to well up again.

"Just, don't rush yourself to find a new place okay? You're more than welcomed to stay there. And I'm sure all of this must be a big misunderstanding." He gently answered.

"Thank you so much. It means a lot, even though I do doubt your last words." Was all you could muster as an answer.

To say the lovers were frantic was an understatement, they need to find you, they needed to tell you what they felt and how all of this was a misunderstanding. There was no way they were about to lose you over this, no not like this, not before you knew what you meant to them. It couldn't end with you thinking they hated you, lord, it was so far from the truth. They would never forgive themselves.

"Try calling them!!" Satoru shouted, pacing around your empty room.

"I already tried Toru, they're not answering, I go straight to voicemail." Suguru replied, his heart sinking at the potential meaning of his calls going straight to voicemail.

"No, no, no... You have to try again, please Sugu, try again!" The white-haired man begged, his voice breaking as the tears made their way up. "Sugu, this can't be it. Sugu we need to find them, this can't be it, please this can't be it."

All Suguru could do was take his lover into his arms, letting him break down and cry on his shoulders. Words stuck in his throat, as his own tears made their way down his cheeks. He never felt this helpless.

"Maybe..." He began slowly, "Maybe we should try and text them. So they can read it whenever they feel like it and not feel pressured to answer right away."

"Let's do that." Satoru grundgingly said, his pout never leaving his face.

Both of them let out a breath seeing your answer, it wasn't really positive one but at least they weren't blocked, and right now it meant already a lot for them. They would give you all the time in the world you needed, they were ready to wait an eternity if it meant that you would come back to them in the end. Well, at least Suguru was ready for that, Satoru was a whole other story. "M'gonna die Sugu. M'gonna disappear from the face of the earth if I don't see them soon." The youngest whined, holding onto his lover for dear life. "Why don't we call Shoko? I'm sure they're with her. Even better, we could just go there and tell them how this is just a misunderstanding, and we can tell them how much we love them and how we want them in our space forever, and never out of it."

"Baby, we have to wait and you know it. We don't know what they heard, and why they're so hurt. It made them leave our place Toru, it's not something we can fix that easily. We probably lost their trust, and winning it back won't be an easy task. That's why we can't force this on them. We have to be patient, and wait for them to come to us, no matter how much it hurts." The dark-haired man explained, not fully convinced by his own words, but one of them had to be rational in order to mess this up further.

"I know you're right, but knowing we hurt them and that we can't make it better is so hard. I never wanted to hurt them in the slightest, and now we drove them away. At least, I'm glad I have you in all of this." Satoru confessed, hiding even further in the crook of his lover's neck, hoping this wouldn't last too long.

You couldn't help the small smile that made its way on your face after reading your conversation, but it didn't stay for long. After all, you heard what you heard, and there was no way you could have gotten it wrong in any way, it was pretty clear who they were talking about, so this all misunderstanding thing seemed like a lie to you. But why would they lie about that? What was the point in hiding the truth now that you knew about it? Wouldn't it be easier for them now to get rid of you? Not having to go through the burden of telling you directly to leave and everything?

You were confused, a part of you wanted to believe they were telling the truth, that all of this was a misunderstanding, and your best friends didn't hate you. But at the same time, another part was scared because what if they really did hate you, and they were doing all this just to be able to humiliate you even further, and have the satisfaction to tell you in your face how much they wanted you out of their life. You were kind of used to be the odd one in friend groups, and ultimately being left out, so why would it be different this time?

"You realy should hear them out." A voice suddenly said, making you jump.

"Gosh Kento you scared me." You squeaked, hand on your chest in a futile try to appease your beating heart.

"I'm sorry, but really. I'm not the biggest fan of these two, and I think that's why you decided to come here, but I know they would never hurt you." Namami chuckled softly, sitting down next to you.

"Well, look at that, for once in your life you're wrong." You tearfully laughed.

"I've been wrong a lot of times in my life, but not on that. I promise you, they would never intentionally hurt you, especially not with their words." Your blonde-haired friend affirmed, and the look in his eyes told you there was no convincing him otherwise, almost as if he knew something you didn't.

"I don't know, I need time, I don't think I can face them yet." You explained, curling into a ball next to him.

"Take all the time you need." He simply replied, petting your hair as if to comfort the crying child you were. And for now it's all you needed, some time and a comforting friend, you would deal with all of this later, maybe.

oki here it is!! sorry im not quite satisfied with this part, i wanted to make it longer and have them maybe meet to talk it out but i also didn't know if it was the mood of this part or not... also, yes, don't worry there will be a part 4! part 4 here!!

#saturn's writing #satosugu x reader #satosugu x you #satosugu poly #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #geto suguru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x you #gojo satoru x you #geto suguru x gojo satoru x reader #gego x reader

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7ndipity · 8 months

Text

False Pretenses

fwb!Jungkook x Reader

Summary: Just how fair does the ‘benefits’ aspect between Friends with Benefits actually extend? Based on this meme.

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: crack to fluff, suggestive moments and ending, swearing, Jk has side by side washer/dryer units cause it’s funnier, reader’s referred to as ‘Ma’am’, not proofread

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! Sorry it took me soo long to get to, I hope you’ll still like it tho! (I’ll also be posting a couple more pieces with this pairing in the next couple weeks, so keep your eyes peeled if you liked this)

Masterlist

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It was the type of text you had gotten more than used to receiving from him over the past few months, smirking down at your phone as you waited for the elevator in his building.

“Need you so bad rn. Come over?❤”

The heart was a new addition, he must be feeling particularly needy today, you thought to yourself as the elevator doors finally opened.

Since the two of you had established this new part of your friendship, it was rare for you to go more than four or five days without receiving some variation of the same short message from him.

You were still slightly surprised by his text, seeing as you had only been over the night before, but you weren’t complaining by any means. Though you may have enjoyed pretending that Jungkook was the needier one in your arrangement, if you were completely honest, you were just as affected by him, finding yourself missing him on the nights you didn’t spend together.

When he opened the door, you noticed he looked a little more disheveled than usual, his hair sticking up all over the place, as if he’d been running his hands through it, a habit you knew he did when he was stressed.

“You got here fast.” He noted, letting you into the apartment.

“Well, your text made it sound kinda urgent, didn’t want to leave you waiting too long.” You said, wandering through into the living room, slowing to a stop as you caught sight of the chaotic state of the space, cleaning supplies and laundry scattered around, furniture moved all out of place.

“What happened in here?” You asked, turning back to Jungkook, who was now avoiding your eyes. “Koo?”

“I lied, I didn’t want sex.” He said guiltily, looking up at you. “I need you to help me clean.”

“I-, what?” You blinked at him, unsure if you heard him correctly.

He slumped back against the counter, looking stressed as he ran his hand through his hair again. ”My parents decided to surprise me by announcing they’re coming to visit tomorrow, but I’ve done nothing but sleep since I got home from tour last week, so the house is a fucking mess and everything’s a disaster and I need help, please.” He pleaded, staring at you.

You immediately began pulling your coat back on, turning back towards the door. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Y/n, please!” He quickly followed after you, catching your sleeve. “I’ll do anything you want! I’ll buy you dinner, I’ll rub your back, I’ll even let you pick what we watch for a month!”

You paused, turning to look back at him with a raised brow. “Even if I want to re-watch ‘Our Beloved Summer’ for a third time?”

He bit lip, trying to fight back a pained grimace before nodding slowly. “Whatever you want.”

You stared at him for a long moment.

“Fine.” You said reluctantly, caving as you saw the genuine desperation in his eyes. You could never say no to him.

“Thank you!” He sang, catching you in a tight hug and spinning you around in a circle. “I promise I’ll make it up to you!”

“Yeah, whatever,” You grumbled as he set you back on your feet. “Where do we start?”

“Laundry room?” He offered. “It’s mostly done, I just need to vacuum behind the machines.”

Do you really think your mom’s gonna look back there?” You raised a brow, following him down the hall.

“She’s very thorough.” He said seriously.

“Fair enough.” You shrugged. “I don’t quite see why I’m necessary for this part though?”

“I was afraid if I tried to clean back there by myself, I’d slip and get stuck or die.”

“So you want me to slip and die behind your washer instead?” You shot him an accusatory look.

“No! I’ll hold onto you and keep you safe,” He smiled reassuringly. “You know, like the buddy system.”

“I thought the buddy system was for camping so you didn’t get lost or eaten by bears?”

“It’s a multi-purpose system!” He said, his earlier agitation starting to flare up again at your teasing. “Are you gonna help me or not?”

“Yeah, I’ll do it, pass me the vacuum.” You relented, boosting yourself up on top of the dryer.

He held onto your hips to keep you balanced as you cleaned, his mind beginning to wander as he stared at your ass, his fingers starting to slowly knead your flesh absent-mindedly.

“Koo.” You warned, shooting him a quick look.

“Right, sorry.” He snapped back to attention, ceasing his movements and focusing back on the task at hand.

You finished up quickly, passing the vacuum attachment back to him and letting him help you down.

“Thank you.” He said.

“You’re welcome.” You answered, looking around expectantly. “What’s next?”

The apartment wasn’t nearly as bad of a mess as he claimed it to be, but it still took both of you several hours of work to get everything back in order, finishing off with laundry and changing all the bedding.

“Why are these sticky?!” You asked, mildly horrified as you helped him strip the sheets off his bed.

“Relax, it’s just caramel sauce.” He said.

You looked up at him confused. “We didn’t use-?”

“No no, that was just me,” He explained quickly. “I had ice cream last night.”

“Without me?!” You said, clutching your chest in feign hurt, making him roll his eyes as he let out a huff of laughter.

“I’ll add that to the list of things I need to make up for, okay?” He said.

“Eh, it’s better than where my mind went.” You said, only half joking as you grabbed the fresh sheets from him and turned back to the bed. “Almost thought you were fucking around behind my back for a second there.”

Facing away from him, you missed the way his expression suddenly turned serious as he looked at you. “I would never.”

It was strange, despite the supposedly ‘casual’ nature of your arrangement, you both found yourselves making little comments like that, words and exchanges that sounded a lot more like things said between a committed couple, rather than just two friends helping each other out till you found something more serious.

“Alright, I think that’s everything.” You said, snapping him out of his thoughts. You had finished making up the bed, even turning down the covers for him.

“Thank you, y/n.” He said gratefully. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

“Probably called Hobi.” You smirked, making him snort.

“Now, you promised me food, and if you lie to me twice in the same day, I’m dumping your ass.” You said, earning another laugh from him.

“Alright, whatever you want, just like I said.” He said, leaning down to give you a quick kiss.

“Although, if you wanted, I could make up for my false pretenses from earlier in a different way?” He offered, eyes darkening slightly as his hands drifted over your hips

You lightly shoved his hands away. “Not a chance, Loverboy, I’m way too tired now. You’ll have to try and ‘make it up to me’ some other time.”

“How about tomorrow?” He said, eyes twinkling mischievously, looping his arms around your waist instead to keep you close.

“I thought your parents were coming over tomorrow?” You reminded, raising a brow at him.

“You could come over after.” He suggested. “Hell, you could even come to dinner with us, my parents like getting to meet my friends.”

“Friends?” You looked up at him skeptically.

“Yeah, what?” He laughed, squeezing you lightly.

“Do you let your other friends suck your di-?”

“They don’t need to know the details of our relationship!” He said quickly, his face flushing slightly, making you snicker. “You’re still my friend, one of my best friends actually.” He added, in a soft tone.

The way he said it made your heart twist in a weird way, though you didn’t quite understand why.

“So?” He asked, staring down at you hopefully. “Will you come?”

You chewed your lip, considering. It felt like a really big commitment to meet his family, regardless of what your relationship was, but you tell it would mean a lot to him if you said yes.

“I’ll think about it.” You said finally.

He beamed.

“Thank you!” He said, leaning in to kiss you again, his lips lingering longer this time, tracing over yours lightly, making you shiver.

You pressed closer to him, hooking your arms around his neck as you tilted your head to deepen the kiss, letting your tongue delve into his mouth as his hands grip on your waist tightened.

When you pulled back for air, his pupils were blown wide, eyes almost black as he stared down at you, breathing heavily.

“Take your shirt off.” You ordered, your breaths equally unsteady.

“But I thought you said-?”

“I changed my mind.” You cut him off, tugging at the fabric impatiently. “Shirt off, now.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @a-gayish-unicorn

#jungkook imagine #jungkook scenarios #jungkook smut #jungkook oneshot #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x reader #jungkook drabble #jungkook fluff #fwb!jungkook #bts drabble #bts one shot #bts x y/n #bts x reader #bts scenarios #bts fluff #bts requests #7ndipity

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seonghwaddict · 1 year

Text

music to my ears — choi san PART THREE OF LILO'S 600 FOLLOWER EVENT

requested by anon. “congrats on 600 lovely !! <3 fluff list 2: “you wouldn’t, uh, maybe, want to stay the night, would you? i just really don’t want today to end.” & smut list 4: ❛ i love that no one else has seen you like this, that no one else has felt you before, been inside you. they don't get to have you, but i do. ❜ with san would be 🫠🫠” lilo’s notes. thank you for the request anon!! i agree this is an absolutely amazing request and the prompts are just *chefs kiss*. that being said, i had to change them very slightly (like one or two words) just to fit the scenario a bit, i hope you don’t mind. <33

prompts. “you wouldn’t, uh, maybe, want to stay the night, would you? i just really don’t want today to end.” ; “i love that no one else has seen you like this, that no one else has felt you before, been inside you. they don't get to have you, but i do.” pairing. choi san x fem!reader

warnings. smut below the cut, minors please dni, soft dom!san, soft sex, body worship, fuckbuddy!san, minimal dirty talk, praise, p in v, unprotected sex (pls don’t do this irl), nicknames (baby, love), slight overstimulation, aftercare, a lot of softness. wc. 1.7k.

he was supposed to be a one night stand, a stranger you’d have some fun with and then forget about later.

what he was not supposed to be was a repeated cycle of waking up in his bed. but that’s exactly what san became. you weren’t exactly sure how to describe your relationship with him—friends with benefits? no, you didn’t really talk enough about your personal lives to consider him close to you in any other way than physical. fuck buddy? that was definitely more fitting, but something about it still felt off.

after the first night you spent together, you were intrigued, eager to find out everything he could do but had not yet shown you. so, before you left in the morning, you grabbed a pen and paper from his desk and wrote down your number and name (you couldn’t even remember his name so you doubted you ever gave him yours).

it didn’t take him too long to contact you. only a week later and you received a text message where he introduced himself. once you were reminded of who he was, you couldn’t suppress your excitement at the prospect of seeing him again. you were completely right about his intentions for it was only a few messages later that he threw in the information that he was stressed and could really use relief. you were happy to assist him.

your little adventures in his sheets quickly became something constant in your life, seeing him every couple days. soon enough you figured out you were both std free, so you let him go in without protection. the pleasure of it all never really left either of you with a desire to sleep with anyone else, since you didn’t have to worry about diseases or pregnancy (thanks to you being on the pill). and after the first night, you stopped leaving as soon as you woke up while he was still fast asleep, and with each encounter you’d find yourself staying just a bit longer each time. san was always very sweet, though his personality in bed was a bit unpredictable.

sometimes he was merciless, pounding into you at an ungodly speed while he whispered the filthiest things into your ear. other times, like now for instance, he’d be gentle, taking his time with your body, hands and lips ghosting over sensitive areas and mapping them out.

he already made you cum three times and by the time he finally entered you, you were quivering with overstimulation but still eager to continue. one of his hands had your wrists crossed and pinned over your head while the other trailed all over your body, gently teasing before he held your thighs together and bent them over your chest, his hips rolling against you sensually.

he knew your body well, knew what angles got your head spinning and what touches got your pussy gushing. occasionally he let out groans, but he was rarely too focused on his own release, keen on making sure you felt good. this particular position was a favourite of yours, it helped him reach inside you deeper and it increased the tightness around his cock, stimulating both of you in the most delicious way.

“you know,” his tone was soft, almost as if he were talking to you while reading a newspaper over breakfast and not fucking you. “you’re always so pretty for me.”

san leaned down and pressed featherlight kisses to the back of your calves, trailing them down to the back of your knees and causing a stampede of butterflies you forcefully swallowed. the pace of his thrusts was almost frustratingly slow, making you feel how his length filled you so thoroughly.

his hands grasped the back of your thighs and moved your legs carefully, to hook them around his waist. when he was fucking you like this, with this gentleness, he liked missionary. he liked it because it gave him a clear view of how your face contorted with the pleasure only he can provide you with. because he could lean down and kiss you and swallow all your moans.

“o-oh san…” you whimpered against his lips as he gave a sharp thrust different from all the other ones.

in response, he bit your lip and pulled it slightly before releasing it. san brushed his fingers over your cheekbone as he leaned his face back to watch the muscles of your face twitch and go slack. “hm, did you like that, baby? your sounds are like music to my ears. all your whimpers and moans, i never want to stop hearing them.”

you felt your nails digging into his biceps as he increased his pace just a bit, the contrast between his sudden roughness and the featherlight touches of his hands sliding up and down your glistening body making your head spin. he hummed, his eyes rich with all kinds of emotions as they surveyed the moaning mess you were.

“i love that no one else gets to see you like this.” he angled his hips a little differently so his whole cock dragged along your most sensitive spots. he reached one of his hands down to let his thumb circled your swollen, abused clit. “that no one else gets to feel you or be inside you. they don’t get to have you… but i do.”

something about the way he whispered those words so possessively. it sent your mind reeling and had your walls clenching around him tightly as another orgasm washed over you. your body shook and writhed beneath him, overwhelmed for a moment. you opened your mouth in a silent moan, but his hand moved to your chin to nudge it shut so he could finish with his own groans muffled against you.

a little after that, he pulled out of you, both of you shuddering as he collapsed on top of you with his head between your breasts. san’s hands traced from your shoulder to your hands, holding them as if they were delicate and could break at any second, his hazy mind calming down as he listened to your heartbeat and felt the rise and fall of your chest. when you squeezed his hands, he sat up slightly dropping your right hand to hold onto your left one with both of his. he brought it up to his face and kissed your palm.

you let him, watching him silently as your cheeks warmed with heat and your stomach stirred with something other than arousal. he placed heartfelt pecks against your palm before he moved his lips to press more pecks on the inside of your wrist and then up your arm, all the way until he got to your shoulder. there, he lifted his lips, but not for very long as he placed a kiss against the spot over your heart and then continued travelling upwards. his tender kisses littered your neck and cheek until, finally, he pressed a firm kiss to your lips.

you shivered and held him close, not quite processing how intimate all of this was. but soon enough, he got up from the bed and returned with a fresh pair of boxers on and a wet towel. he took ahold of your ankles and pulled you to the edge of the bed so your knees hang off it. spreading your knees apart, he kneeled on the ground, eye level with the area he intended to clean.

as he wiped away all the cum and arousal, you twitched every now and then, stinging from the slight overstimulation. whenever you flinched, he’d pull his hand back and glance up at you, not continuing until he saw your discomfort eased. occasionally he’d press his lips against the inside of your thighs and your kneecaps, mumbling sweet words against them.

“you did so well, just relax now, love.” “does this feel okay, it’s not too much, is it?”

once he was done, san took the panties he had haphazardly tossed away from the bed and slid them up your legs, patting your hips once he got them on you. figuring you’d be cold, he also grabbed a shirt from his closet, slipping his hand under your back to help you sit up (though you weren’t that exhausted, but who were you to complain?) and dressing you in the soft, grey material.

when you woke up the next morning, you were facing each other, legs tangled under the sheets. he was already awake, absentmindedly tracing shapes on the skin of your waist under the shirt as he looked at you. there a warm smile spread itself onto his face when he noticed you were awake. his hand moved to the small of your back and drew you closer, holding you tightly and kissing your forehead.

briefly you considered asking what he saw you as. sure, after you slept together he’d usually be very affectionate. but something was different last night; the lingering kisses, the intimacy, the shockingly affectionate tenderness of his eyes. you pushed those thoughts away. there was no way he thought of you the way you thought of him.

still, a part of your soul couldn’t help but stay hopeful as he hesitantly uttered his next words.

“you wouldn’t, uh, maybe, want to stay for the rest of the day, would you? i just really don’t want this to end.”

you stopped yourself from cooing at his nervousness, nodding slowly. “i’d love to stay.”

“good.”

a beat of silence followed that, neither of you sure of what to say next. it was an awkward or uncomfortable silence, it was calm. the few rays of sunlight that got past his curtains provided the room with a soft glow, the pair of you engulfed by the warmth of the blanket.

he brought your hand up to his face and, much like the night before, pressed a kiss to your palm and then your wrist. the sensation left tingles on your skin and your breath hitched, something he took note of with a smirk.

“can i have my hand back yet?” you asked jokingly, your chuckle ringing through his ears.

“hmmm,” he nipped at your wrist, “no.”

[ networks . . . ] @cromernet @blankjournal

[ perm taglist . . . ] @ad0rechuu @sankatchu

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kelcemenow · 1 year

Text

Hey Daddy.

Pairing Travis Kelce x Reader

Words 3381

Warnings Some strong language and mentions of miscarriage, blood, losing a family member. There's a bit of angst and lots of fluff though!

Another Anon request! This is my first Dad Travis/pregnancy related fic. As someone who has never been pregnant and doesn't plan on it in the future, I've avoided writing this sort of thing. But this is why I love getting requests as it brought me out of my comfort zone and I really enjoyed doing it! So, thank you Anon for making me branch out into a different style! "Can I request some dad Travis/pregnant reader? Travis has to travel for an away game and his wife (reader) is 9 months pregnant who has to stay home - unable to travel due to being so close to giving birth. She gets very anxious lately whenever Travis has to leave because she can go into labor any day now. Game day is here and the reader is not feeling well at all. She's curled up on the couch with a blanket and some tea, to watch the game. During the game, the reader's water breaks and she goes into labor. Travis' mom is in touch with her. Travis' mom notifies the team staff what's going on... and then they notify Travis during the game."

"Baby, I miss you." Travis' warm voice made you melt as you held the phone close to your ear.

"You only left this morning!" You giggled as you clutched at the blanket and pulled it up to your chest, "You can't miss me already?"

"Yes I can! Are you saying you don't miss me when I leave?"

"Of course I do, Travis." You winced slightly as you shifted on the sofa.

Travis heard your slight noise of discomfort, "What? Are you okay? What's wrong?" He immediately sounded concerned.

"Relax, baby. I've just got cramp. I'm fine."

You heard him sigh in relief, "Man, I hate leaving you. I hate leaving you anyway, but you're sick and you know...ready to burst."

"Not long until the little guy is here." You gently rubbed your swelling stomach.

The Chiefs had a game in Dallas against the Cowboys and Travis had travelled to the game alone for the first time since you had been together. You only had 2 weeks left until your due date and luckily, Travis had had a bye week and two home games in a row, meaning he was around to take care of you. You hadn't been feeling 100% for the past few days however, meaning he was more worried, especially as he was about to be 500 miles away from you. You tried to keep him calm, reminding him that it was only an hour's flight home and he would be back before he knew it.

"Well, try to keep him in there until I'm home."

You laughed, "I don't think I'll have much of a say!"

Travis hummed into his phone, "And remember, you can call my Mom at any time."

You snickered slightly, "Travis, I'm fine. I'll be here on the couch with my snacks and my herbal tea, watching you kill it."

Travis sighed again, "Okay, okay. Baby, I gotta go. But please, take care until I get back, alright?"

"Alright. I love you, Travis."

"I love you, Y/N."

You hung up the phone and reached for your ginger tea, sipping it gently, the hot steam tickling your cheeks. A strong stab shot through your lower back again, causing you to stretch your chest upwards in an attempt to relieve any pressure. You had been having these pains for most of the afternoon but you didn't want to worry Travis. You picked up your phone from the arm of the sofa and texted Travis' Mom, Donna.

"I've had a few more of those pains, but I don't know how much more ginger tea I can have. I'm running the the bathroom every two minutes!"

Donna must have had her phone in her hand as they three grey dots appeared almost immedately.

"Just wait till you're at my age, sweetie!"

You smiled at her message, pulling the bowl of nacho chips onto your lap, enjoying the pre-game interviews. Your eyes danced across the room, cards from friends and family wishing you well for your pregnancy dotted around the surfaces. A brand new crib was located near the window, a bright blue bow secured on top; a gift from Travis' brother Jason and his wife Kylie. Your heart fluttered as thoughts of you and Travis becoming parents filled your mind. He was fantastic with his three nieces and they adored him just as much as he did them. You picked up your cup of tea, but as you brought it to your lips, you felt your bladder sting, groaning as you lifted yourself up for another trip to the bathroom.

By the second half of the game, you were out of chips and the Chiefs were down by 7 points. You grumbled to yourself with the dull ache that was radiating across your back and stomach. Gripping onto the blanket you opened your latest message from Donna.

"Keep up with those breathing exercises, honey. Have you got the birthing ball?"

Your eyes scanned over to the large, blue gym ball in the corner of the lounge. You knew that it would help with your pains but just the idea of getting up from the sofa was enough to tire you out.

"Yeah I have. I'll get on it now. I could really do with a Momma Kelce hug, that would make me feel better!"

"You only have one week to wait and you can have all of the Momma Kelce hugs you want!"

You smiled as you put your phone back down and slowly rose to your feet, one hand lightly supporting your large bump. As you settled down on the ball in front of the TV, the third quarter was beginning. You gently bounced, breathing deeply and feeling some of the pain release before your core tightened again.

Travis' face flashed up onto the screen as he was settling into position for the first play of the quarter and you smiled, feeling an immense combination of love, pride and respect. Your relationship had developed over a few years, through your friendship with his teammate Eric Fisher and his wife Elizabeth. When Travis was drafted to the Chiefs, he was invited to numerous parties, dinners and barbeques that you had attended and a close friendship blossomed. Travis eventually asked to take you out on a date and you agreed, with a little persuasion from Elizabeth and Eric. He was kind, caring and attentive to you, with staunch manners and an incredible sense of humour. He made you laugh, made you feel safe and always put you first when he could. The two of you had married after 4 years surrounded by your family and friends and it was truly the happiest day of your life. You couldn't believe how lucky you were, staring up at the handsome man who was promising the rest of his life to you. It was a mutual decision to start trying to have children, and you got to work almost immediately after the wedding.

When you found out that you were pregnant, Travis was overjoyed, choking up as he kissed you repeatedly, crying "Thank you" into your lips. You prepared the house for your new arrival, painting the nursery and spending your Monday nights building new furniture. Everything was falling into place until during your second trimester, you suffered a miscarriage. You had been putting some groceries away when you felt a strange sting deep in your abdomen. You grabbed onto the kitchen counter and doubled over, clutching your stomach with your other hand. You breathed through the intense pain and when Travis walked through the door, he rushed to your side. Picking you up and moving you to the sofa, his face turned white when he saw the trail of blood that ran behind you and he quickly drove you to the hospital.

The next few months were numbing. You felt that you had let Travis down, that it was your fault that you had lost his first child. He insisted every day that you had done nothing wrong and stuck to your side as you grieved.

Just as you were beginning to heal, life threw you another cruel blow. You had invited your Mom for coffee and you knew something was wrong with her. She was quiet and fidgeting so you pushed for answers. You wished you hadn't as it was then when she explained that she had found a lump in her breast and was awaiting for the results from the Doctor. Only days after you saw her, she was diagnosed with Breast Cancer and she passed away soon after. Coming from a single parent household, you and your Mom were extremely close. She was your rock and was elated on your wedding day, constantly telling Travis how happy she was for the pair of you. You had felt like your life was falling apart around you but the one constant support you had was Travis. He would hold you close as you cried yourself to sleep. He would stay with you when you were too drained to leave the house. He took a year off of football to help you and to care for you. You were undeniably grateful to him and when you fell pregnant again, he was reasonably cautious. Reading baby books, attending lamaze classes with you and checking up with you every hour when he wasn't with you. His attentiveness made your heart burst with love, seeing a glimpse of his parenthood skills.

Your attention was brought back to the screen when you heard the commentators begin to raise their voices. Travis was sprinting down the field, the football safely cradled in his arm.

You sat up further, clenching your thigh muscles, "Go on, baby! Come on, keep going! Go!"

Travis made the touchdown with ease, dropping the ball as he raised his hands to the sky, blowing a kiss in your honour, as he always did. You clapped your hands and shouted with happiness until you felt a sudden wetness release in your sweatpants. You stopped, slowly standing up from the gym ball. Feeling the smooth texture with your fingers, you looked down with an initial sense of panic. The liquid was clear and you froze on the spot. Your water had broke.

You immediate reaction was to call Donna.

"Hey honey!" Donna sang down the phone.

"Uhh Donna, I think the baby is coming." Your voice was panicked.

"What?"

"I was cheering for Trav and my water broke."

"Oh shit. Okay, stay calm, relax, I'm gonna call Travis' team staff. Have you called the hospital?"

You paused, "Umm...no. I called you straight away."

"Okay. Call the hospital straight away."

You swallowed hard, "Donna, he's not supposed to come for another 2 weeks."

"I know, it's okay though."

"I'm scared. I'm on my own and I'm scared."

Donna sighed, "I know you are, but trust me, everything is going to be fine."

You nodded your head against the phone, "Yeah, yeah. Thank you so much Donna."

"I'll speak to you soon, sweetie."

You paced the floor with nerves, unsure of what to do. Usually, Travis would be the one to keep you calm so you looked towards the screen. The game was still playing and you stared as Travis was completely unaware that his wife was in labour.

You called the hospital, clutching at your stomach, explaining that your water had broken two weeks before your due date. The call handler explained calmly that they would be sending an ambulance as soon as possible but that you were still in the early stages of labour and not to panic.

As the current play ended, you saw Travis sitting down on the bench, breathing heavily and watching the action on the field as he sat this one out. A member of the Chiefs staff approached him from behind and tapped his shoulder. The camera panned away and you groaned through what you assumed was a contraction, waiting to see your husband on the screen again. When his face finally appeared, his eyes were wide and his head was whipping from side to side, anxiously shouting to everyone around him before he was quickly ushered out of the stadium.

You felt restless. Glancing out of the window, you tried to slow your breathing down in an attempt to relax. You watched the trees swaying with the breeze, almost replicating the movement with your own body and taking deep inhales. Closing your eyes, your hand instinctively cradled your baby bump just as another stab of pain shot through you.

"Come on, just stay in there until Daddy gets back." You muttered.

You hunched your back over and pressed the palms of your hands against the wall for stability as your phone started ringing. Without checking who it was, you answered the call.

"Hello?" You groaned.

"How are you doing, sweetie?"

You winced as you sat down on the gym ball, "I don't know if these pains are contractions but they're kicking my ass, Donna. Did you speak with the team?"

"Yeah, they're getting him out of the stadium now and onto a private jet to bring him home as soon as they can."

You sighed with relief before letting out a throaty cry, "I need him here."

"He'll be there, honey. He isn't missing this."

Your phone beeped in your ear, signalling that another call was trying to get through. You pulled the phone away to look at the screen, seeing a selfie of you and Travis on your wedding day, a huge smile on your face as he pressed a kiss into your cheek.

"He's calling me now, Donna. I'll have to go."

"Okay, call me later on."

You switched the call over quickly, hearing Travis' breathless voice.

"Baby, baby! Are you okay?"

You smiled, "I'm fine, it's painful but I'm okay. They're sending an ambulance as soon as they can."

"I'll be home in an hour and a half. Just sit tight and keep breathing. I love you so much."

Your voice shook, "I love you too, I can't wait to see you be the best Daddy to this little guy." You held your baby bump tenderly, feeling movement through your sweater.

Travis cleared his throat, "I'm getting on the jet now, I'll see you soon."

"Bye, baby."

You dropped your phone on the sofa and began pacing the floor again, grasping at your back as the sharp stab began to change into a dull ache. Your groaned through the pain, gritting your teeth and scrunching your eyes.

It wasn't long before an ambulance arrived to take you to the hospital. You were anxious about having to do this first step on your own but knowing that Travis was on his way eased your mind slightly. He was your birth partner and knew what to do to keep you relaxed, the correct breathing exercises to do and you were desperate to have him by your side.

Once you were in the hospital, you were quickly brought to your private room, your husband wanting only the best for you. It was bright, comfortable and quiet, just what you needed. A cheerful nurse appeared in your doorway with short grey hair and a wide smile.

"Mrs Kelce, my name is Heather. I'll be looking after you today." She beamed as she made her way to your bed.

"Hi Heather." You whined quietly, "My husband is on his way so please could he be let straight in when he gets here?"

She nodded and picked up your notes that were hanging on the end of the bed, "Of course, anything you want. Now, how is your pain."

You scrunched your face, "Manageable at the moment, I guess."

Heather stretched on a pair of gloves, "You just let me know if you would like any help with the pain, but first thing I'm going to do is check how far along you are, if that's okay?"

You nodded as she made her way to the end of the bed, lifting your gown up. You shifted as she examined you, trying to relax.

"Okay, so you're around 4 centimetres so I'm afraid we've got some time to wait, Mrs Kelce."

"Please, call me Y/N."

Heather smiled as she removed her gloves and placed them into the bin, "Now, can I get you anything?"

You pointed down to your bag that you had had packed and ready for the last 2 weeks, "Could you hand me the book that's on the top, please? I figure now would be the perfect time to get some reading in."

Heather reached into the bag and pulled out a large hardbacked book and passed it to you, winking, "Good idea. I'll be just out here. If you need anything at all press that buzzer and I'll be right in."

You smiled at her, your fingers brushing over the pages of your book. You held your breath as another wave of pain brushed over you, but this time it was longer and more intense. You clenched your jaw and closed your eyes to try and deal with the pain, not keen on taking any drugs throughout your labour. Squeezing your eyes further shut, you gripped the book in your hands as the pain began to subside.

Your knuckles were turning white when you heard gentle footsteps. You opened one eye to see Heather set down a cup next to you on the bedside table and lower herself into the nearby seat.

"Ice chips." She said with a smile, "You'll get a dry mouth, especially in this heat."

You took hold of the cup, "Thank you."

She placed one hand on yours, "First time?"

Your face relaxed as the pain subsided, "Yeah." You said with a slow exhale.

"I bet your husband is excited?"

Your lips curled upwards, "You could say that." Your eyes drifted to your phone which had lit up with a notification and was now showing your background of you and Travis on vacation together. "He's going to be an amazing Father."

Heather gave your hand a squeeze, "You'll need to buy an 87 jersey!"

You lowered your eyebrows in confusion.

"My husband is a Chiefs fan, I know who your husband is." She laughed.

"Well, I'm sure I can hook you up with an autograph...ohhhhh." You groaned in agony as Heather started to put her gloves on.

"Oh sweetie, let's just have a look and see what's going on here." Heather said calmly as she began to examine you, "Oh, someone's impatient."

Your eyes widened, "What? What does that mean?"

"It means your baby is coming." She smiled as she removed her gloves and discarded them.

You placed your hands either side of your hips and lifted yourself up slightly, "What? Now? No, Travis isn't here. I need him with me."

Heather took hold of your hands in hers, "Honey, this baby isn't going to wait. He's like his Papa, quick off of the mark." She laughed as she grabbed some charts and unlocked the brakes on your bed.

You closed your eyes, willing the tears not to start falling down your cheeks. You took a few shaky breaths before frantic footsteps in the hallway caused you to open your eyes and your breath hitched when Travis bounded into your room. His face was red and sweaty from rushing around and his expression softened when he saw you.

"Baby, I'm here, I'm here. Is everything okay?" He leaned down and kissed you gently.

You smiled into the kiss, "Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just glad you're here. I think they're taking me now."

"What, now? Right now?" His voice was panicked.

Your eyes filled with tears, "Are you ready to be a Daddy?"

His thumb brushed over your forehead, "Absolutely."

Heather appeared in the doorway, "Are we ready?"

You pressed your lips together and nodded quickly, "I think so."

______________________________________________________________

Your eyes flickered open and the room slowly came into focus. You swallowed with difficulty, your dry throat scratching. As you turned your head on the pillow, you saw Travis standing at the window, looking outside. You could hear him mumbling with a low voice, but it was too quiet to hear what he was saying.

Clearing your throat a little first, you croaked, "Hey Daddy."

Travis turned around, a bundle of blankets nestled in his arms. He looked up at you and smiled before looking down again, "Look, Mommy's awake."

He came close to you, leaning slightly so he could place the tiny baby on your chest. You looked down at a pair of large blue eyes blinking up at you.

"This is crazy." You whispered.

Travis grinned, bending his knees so that his face was lined up with yours. He pressed a gentle kiss on your forehead, his stubble grazing your skin, "I am so proud of you, baby. You are amazing."

You sighed, "Thank you for getting here in time, I don't think I could've done it without you, baby." You voice shook.

Travis cleared his throat, his emotions taking over, "You are so strong, you can do anything. You hear me? Anything. And I am so happy to start this new chapter of our lives together." He leaned further, kissing his sons forehead, "Our little family. You, me and Dashiell Kelce."

______________________________________________________________

My show is finished now so I'm back to writing. The requests are piling up but I promise that I'm going to try and get through as many this week as I can! If you want to be on my Taglist, please do let me know!

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