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sodamvelvets · 4 years

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“cherry blossoms”

bae joohyun x fem reader

word count: 4,386

warnings: some swears

a/n: wow, I suddenly got really motivated and was able to write this one in just a day :D, a Seulgi one will be coming next followed by either Joy or Yeri! I hope you guys like this one, I tried out a different writing style for it.

Irene’s gaze falls out the window as she rests her chin in her palms, peacefully watching as the breeze gently brushes against the towering cherry blossom trees that line the streets, causing their blooming flowers to slowly float downwards in wide spirals before settling amongst the bustling pedestrians. Irene sighs contentedly, April has always been her favorite time of year, even before she moved to Seoul five years ago. The brunette has always had a special appreciation for the cherry blossom season, the pink flowers taking her back to the times before her debut, where she’d spend the small two week period bounding through the winding Buk-gu district parks, her older sister just barely trailing behind as Joohyun occasionally stopped to collect the delicate blossoms, her giggles echoing through the warm spring air.

But she realizes, almost bitterly, that those times have long since passed, and by now, Joohyun, South Korea’s freshly turned thirty-year-old it girl, is much too refined to spend her days playing amongst the flowers.

“Joohyun?” Irene jumps in surprise as she feels a hand lightly grasp her shoulder, turning to see Red Velvet’s maknae, Kim Yerim, smiling apologetically at the older girl. “We have to go.”

Irene nods, watching as Yeri runs to join the rest of her members who are currently animatedly chatting away as they await alongside her manager and bodyguard at the café exit. Joohyun stands, stretching her limbs out before reaching for her face mask and black baseball cap, quickly adjusting both around her face.

“Did you enjoy your alone time?” Wendy teases as Irene approaches the group, Seulgi, and Joy both quietly snickering beside her, while Yerim silently types away on her phone. Irene rolls her eyes.

“Yes, it’s much easier to properly think without mosquitos buzzing in your ear.” She says dryly.

Seungwan cackles, pinching her leader’s cheek and quickly stopping as both girls notice their manager whose eyebrows are narrowed in an unamused expression. “Are we ready to hear the schedule for today, or are we going to continue acting half our age?”

Joohyun’s cheeks redden as she mumbles out an apology, and her manager begins to drone out a long list of today’s activities. Irene’s eyes begin to wander back outside as her manager speaks, her focus moving to the two young children chasing each other through the blossom laden roads, the sounds of their sweet laughter being left in their wake. “I’d like to go for a walk before we leave.” Irene suddenly says, and her manager lets out an exasperated sigh.

“Joohyun, we don’t have time for-“

“I want to as well!” Seulgi chirps with a crescent eyed smile, cheerily holding up her camera. “The weather is really good for pictures.”

Seungwan waves her hand in the air excitedly. “Me too! Plus we still have time before our photoshoot.”

Joohyun giggles softly as Sooyoung and Yerim join in on the chorus of begging, their high pitched whines causing their manager to rub his forehead in thought and irritation.

“Fine!” He finally exclaims, checking his watch. “You have ten minutes.”

The Red Velvet members cheer, splitting off into their own groups as they file outside with Irene politely declining Wendy’s offer to check out the boutique across the street, instead opting to walk aimlessly down the busy Seoul streets, enjoying the faint scent of the cherry blossoms drifting through the air.

It’s times like this she misses most, Irene thinks as she pulls her hat just a little lower, the times when she wasn’t one of Korea’s most famous celebrities, but rather just Bae Joohyun, the shy and quiet girl from the Daegu providence, able to wander the city whenever she wanted or even just sleep in past seven. But even as she watches the children play and the rowdy teens jostle each other around, Joohyun knows she wouldn’t have it any other way. She likes her life now, as different as it may be from the peaceful one she once had.

“Look out!” Irene’s eyes flick upwards at the sound, eyes widening as a girl looking around Sooyoung’s age comes bombing down the sidewalk on a skateboard, slamming her foot into the pavement as Joohyun quickly steps to the left, watching in shock as the sudden force of the stop causes the girl to go flying off her board, landing with a loud thump in the spot where Joohyun had just been standing.

Irene blinks, before moving to grab the girl’s skateboard and rushing to her side. “Are you okay?” She asks worriedly, helping the girl stand.

Irene is surprised when the girl, who is only a couple inches taller than Joohyun, only laughs heartily, brushing the dirt off her knees, and patting down her shirt. “Never better!” She says with a large smile, taking the board from Irene’s hands and tucking it under her arm. “I’m really sorry for almost hitting you and I’d love to make it up to you but I gotta go, my shift starts in five minutes.”

Joohyun gapes at the young girl, slightly put off by her almost puppy-like personality, and for the first time noticing the girl’s unique beauty, her sparkling brown eyes and slightly mussed hair helping her achieve a certain type of gorgeous that Irene feels outmatches her own and reminds the brunette of a female classmate whom she used to frequently admire back when she lived in Daegu.

“It’s okay,” Irene finally manages to say, tearing her eyes away from the girl and cringing as her voice comes out a little more shaky than she would’ve liked. “Maybe you should walk the rest of the way through.”

“Will do!” The girl says, making a saluting motion that Joohyun notes is eerily akin to something Seungwan would do, but unlike when Wendy does it, Irene finds it oddly charming and even a little heartwarming.

“You know,” Joohyun says with a chuckle, feeling that same fluttering feeling in her stomach that she used to feel when she was near her Daegu classmate. “You’d better go before you’re too late.”

“Oh!” The taller girl exclaims, a look of embarrassment coming to her face as she bashfully rubs the back of her neck, a toothy grin spreading across her lips, which Joohyun realizes she’s been staring intently at. “Right! But If I ever see you again, I definitely owe you a coffee.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Joohyun says kindly, pushing down the saddening thought that she’d most likely never see the younger girl again, before urging her to hurry along.

Irene watches the girl with a smile as she takes off, waiting a few moments before uttering a few choice swear words, realizing that just like the girl in Daegu, she finds this new one insanely attractive, and can already feel herself developing a crush on the stranger.

For a second, Joohyun stands, soaking in the warm sun and admittedly, thinking about the girl’s warm smile, before finally deciding to set off again, her eyes almost immediately falling upon an object laying on the ground around where the girl had fallen earlier, and perhaps foolishly Irene bends down to pick it up, quickly identifying it.

“Hey! Your wallet!” Joohyun calls, but by then the girl is so far away that Irene can’t even see her, and with a humored sigh Irene decides to follow after the girl’s general direction, only to be cut short by the feeling of her phone vibrating within her pocket. Joohyun’s eyes widen as she pulls it out, reading the caller ID and instantly recognizing her manager’s name. Hastily she hits the accept call button.

“Hello?” She says, tucking the wallet into her trench coat and mentally noting to find the gorgeous girl later (something that definitely excites her) as she begins to walk at a brisk speed back towards the way she came.

“It’s been fifteen minutes Joohyun!” Her manager cries, and Irene can already imagine his distressed expression as she quickens her pace to a light jog. “You have a photoshoot in less than an hour!”

“I know, I’m sorry, I’ll be there in a minute,” Irene promises, hanging up as she dodges a pedestrian, spotting the café up ahead and swiftly closing the gap between her and there, arriving with her cheeks only slightly red from the exertion. Her manager simply shakes his head when he spots Irene, motioning for her to enter the transportation van before walking around the vehicle to get in the passenger side.

“You’re late,” Sooyoung remarks with a smirk as Irene climbs in, her breath already having evened out by then.

“As if you don’t hold us up ninety percent of the time,” Joohyun snaps, sitting down beside Yerim and taking off her hat to fix her windblown hair.

Seulgi laughs as Sooyoung feigns offense, the two beginning to get into a friendly argument, Irene’s tardiness seemingly already forgotten.

“What took you so long?” Yeri asks after a few minutes, her eyebrows raised in question.

Joohyun turns from the window to face her maknae, a small blush spreading across her face as she’s reminded of the gorgeous girl from before. “I ran into,” Joohyun bites her lip. “Someone.”

“Someone you know?”

“No,” Irene says quietly. “She was a stranger.”

“Was she pretty?” Yeri questions with a mischievous look.

Irene huffs, beginning to get annoyed by the younger girl’s antics. “Yes.”

Yeri’s eyes widen and she lets out a loud and boisterous laugh, clapping her hands together, and Joohyun gets the feeling that Yerim has already figured out about her tiny crush. “Quiet down Yerim,” Irene hisses.

Yeri rolls her eyes but lowers her voice nonetheless. ”Do you know her name?”

Irene frowns as she realizes that no, she does not. “No,” Irene says, suddenly becoming aware of the weight in her pocket, and pulling it out. “But I have her wallet.”

“Did you steal it?” Yerim asks excitedly.

“What the- No!” Irene scowls, sparingly slapping Yeri on the back of her head. “She dropped it and I didn’t have time to give it back to her!”

“Lame!” Yeri teases, snatching the wallet from Joohyun and beginning to rifle through it, harshly elbowing the older girl when she tries to take it back. “Quit it Joohyun,” Yeri exclaims. “I’m looking for her ID, don’t you wanna know her name?”

“Whose name?” Wendy chimes in, Yerim’s sudden shouts having attracted her attention.

“Some hot girl Joohyun met earlier,” Yeri answers, causing Seungwan to chuckle, and Joohyun briefly buries her head in her hands.

“And her name is,” Yerim smirks, proudly holding up a driver’s license. “Holy shit, she is hot-“ Wendy peers over Yerim’s shoulder, nodding in agreement, and Irene pinches Yeri’s side causing her to squeal. “Sorry, her name is Kwon Y/n.”

Joohyun grabs the license and wallet from Yeri, and she smiles slightly as she sees the younger girl’s face, instantly deciding she likes the name Y/n, and feeling it fits the girl perfectly. “How am I even going to find her though?” Joohyun says with a sigh, putting both items back in her coat pocket.

Seungwan raises a brow, pulling out her phone. “You said her name was Kwon Y/n?” She presses her phone into Yerim’s lap. “Is this the right Hangul for Y/n?” Yeri nods.

“She works at the coffee shop a couple blocks away from the café we were just at,” Wendy says after a few minutes.

“How did you even figure that out?”

Wendy grins at Irene. “I’m the search king Joohyun!”

“Just call and see when she’s working,” Irene sighs.

///

Joohyun blinks wearily, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she looks out the car window, watching as the cherry blossoms blend into one long pink stream, her head slowly bobbing along to the guitar riff of Molly Burch’s Downhearted, a song chosen by Seulgi, who had happily volunteered to take Joohyun (and Yerim) to the coffee shop after Yeri told her about Joohyun’s encounter last night.

“So are you excited?” Seulgi asks, reaching to turn down the music volume. “You haven’t liked a girl for like seven years.”

Joohyun glances in the rearview mirror, eyes landing on Yeri, who has her earbuds plugged in and seems to be blissfully unaware of everything around her. “I guess,” Irene says, crossing her arms. “And I’m going to graciously pretend you didn’t say that last part.”

Seulgi snickers. “As if it’s not true.”

“Whatever,” Irene mumbles, cranking the volume up and drowning out Seulgi’s laughs, choosing to focus on the passing scenery for the rest of the car ride, and doing her best to ignore the bubbling anxiety in her stomach.

“We’re here,” Seulgi says ten minutes later, and Irene laughs as her bandmate turns to throw a one hundred won coin at Yeri.

“What the fuck Seulgi!” Yeri exclaims, ripping out her earbuds and rubbing her head.

“You didn’t hear me when I said we’re here.” Seulgi smirks, unlocking the car doors and getting out with Joohyun following closely behind, clutching Y/n’s wallet.

Irene hears Yeri mumble a few more swear words before exiting the car, running to catch up with the two older girls, wearing a scowl on her face as Seulgi holds the door open for her with a teasing smile, and Yeri, in retaliation, stomps on the older girl’s foot, and the two instantly begin to bicker.

Ignoring the two girl’s antics, Irene slips into the shop, the faint smell of vanilla instantly entering Irene’s nostrils. For a second Irene looks around, admiring the creamy yellow walls that are covered in abstract paintings. Irene is pleased to see that no other customers inhabit the shop, the only visible person there besides the three Red Velvet members, being the blonde-haired female worker whose back is currently turned, and Irene silently observes her as she works, noting that they look to be shorter than even Wendy.

“Is that her?” Joohyun doesn’t get a chance to respond as Seulgi brushes past her, confidently walking up to the counter, and waving at the barista, who seems to have gone into shock, clearly having recognized the trio, all of them having decided earlier to not wear their face masks.

Irene’s eyes widen, rapidly shaking her head no and Seulgi’s cheeks redden as the barista lets out a high pitched squeal and grabs Seulgi’s arm, causing Yeri to laugh aloud as she sneakily pulls her phone out to film the moment.

“Minseo! Why are you screaming?” Joohyun‘s eyes flicker in the direction of the voice, a tall figure appearing from the back room wearing a frown, swiftly moving to remove her coworker from Seulgi with an apologetic grimace. Seulgi glances back at Irene, her eyebrows raised in silent question and Joohyun mouths a yes, her eyes falling upon Y/n, and she swears her heart flutters a little as she takes in the younger girl, who is wearing a low hanging bun that peeks out of the back of her hat, a look that Joohyun definitely appreciates.

“R-red Velvet!” The girl, Minseo, stutters out pointing first to Seulgi, then to Yeri, and finally Irene.

Y/n’s glances around at the three girls, her brown eyes briefly landing on Irene, a hint of recognition seeming to flicker in them before she turns back to her coworker. “Ah they’re that idol group you like, right?” Y/n says with a grin, patting Minseo’s back gently.

The smaller girl nods meekly, and Y/n chuckles, her gaze once again returning to Irene, who smiles gently in response. “I recognize your eyes,” She says suddenly, beaming at Joohyun. “You’re Joohyun, aren’t you? The girl I almost ran over yesterday and called about my wallet.”

Irene nods, holding up the wallet tossing it to the taller girl who catches it with ease, and Joohyun’s eyes widen as Y/n literally jumps the counter almost knocking Irene over as she is swept into a tight embrace, that Irene melts into, breathing in the girl’s scent, instantly relaxing and Joohyun decides there and then that her new favorite smell is whatever fabric softener Y/n uses.

“Minseo, please get these three any coffees they want.” Y/n says, releasing Irene, and Seulgi and Yeri who were taking a photo with Minseo high five, cheering loudly.

Joohyun shakes her head at this, watching in amusement as her two younger members excitedly order two dalgona coffees.

“What about you?” Y/n asks Irene, gently grabbing the older girl’s hand, and Joohyun jumps.

“I don’t like coffee,” Irene says, a blush rising to her cheeks.

Y/n cocks her head, seemingly confused before her face turns back to a large grin. “How about tea?”

“That would be great,” Irene says softly, her lips beginning to curve upwards as well.

“Oh, by the way,” Y/n says, leaning into Joohyun, and whispering into her ear, causing the older girl to shiver. “I hope this makes up for yesterday.”

Joohyun laughs at the taller girl, lightly poking Y/n‘s side and making her yelp. “It’s a start.” Joohyun jokes.

Y/n chuckles, her sparkling brown eyes moving to her blonde haired coworker who seems to be struggling with the coffee machine. “I should really go help her.” She says, directing Joohyun to a table. “Let’s talk more when we’re finished though.“

Irene nods, seating herself and watching as Y/n leaps back over the counter, joining Minseo and making a teasing remark at her coworker’s efforts.

“Yerim was right,” Seulgi says as she and Yeri sit down beside Joohyun. “She is hot.”

Joohyun’s cheeks go red as she kicks Seulgi under the table, the two swiftly beginning to fall into a friendly argument, all while Yerim watches, occasionally making witty comments of her own before quickly shutting up when the two older girls send her a warning glare, all of them suddenly coming to a silence as Minseo and Y/n reappear, drinks in hand.

“So you guys are idols?” Y/n asks as she sets Irene’s mug in front of her. “That’s so cool, I wish I had the talent for that!”

Irene glances at the younger girl, noting to herself that the girl definitely had the looks and body for an idol, but bites her tongue as she begins to open her mouth and say that, deciding it would be too straight forward.

However, to her left, Yerim smiles proudly, starting to tell Y/n all about Red Velvet and their latest comeback, while Joohyun silently listens along, watching as the steam rises from her tea in long, billowing, swirls, her thoughts returning to the feeling of y/n’s arms wrapped around her. Irene sighs, a feeling of contentment filling her as she takes a sip from her cup, realizing that from this angle she can once again smell Y/n’s flowery scent.

“What fabric softener do you use?” Irene asks suddenly and Yeri chokes on her coffee beside her, Seulgi begins to laugh at both girls before her phone rings and she politely excuses herself.

Irene sinks into her chair, feeling embarrassed, but Y/n simply smiles at Joohyun, and the older girl finds herself once again at ease. “I don’t know. I can see when I get home though.”

Irene beams at the younger girl appreciatively, and Joohyun swears she hears Yeri coo teasingly.

“Hey, you two” Seulgi says pointing at Joohyun and Yerim as she returns to the table. “We have to go, we have an interview in an hour.”

Yerim makes a whining sound, and Irene smiles sadly at y/n, swearing she can see a hint of disappointment lingering in the other girl’s brown eyes, and Joohyun’s stomach drops. Perhaps against her better judgment and knowing full well her manager would chide her for this if he found out, Irene pulls a pen from her purse, quickly scribbling her number on a spare napkin and pushing it towards the younger girl with newfound confidence. “Text me when you find out.” She says, following Yeri and Seulgi out.

And a couple hours later as Joohyun is getting her makeup retouched for a post-interview photoshoot, she receives a text.

I use Pigeon btw :)

Joohyun laughs and her makeup artist scolds her to keep still.

///

It’s a couple months later that Joohyun finds herself in Red Velvet’s shared dorm room, alone with Y/n, the rest of her members having agreed to go out for the night and leave the two alone to watch a shitty chick flick that only Y/n was really paying attention to, Joohyun being more focused on stealing looks at the gorgeous girl, who is currently allowing Irene to rest her head upon her shoulder.

Joohyun has come to realize that the twenty-four-year-old girl loves skinship and cuddling, something that Joohyun definitely doesn’t mind, and happily obliges to. But as Joohyun stares at Y/n, admiring her delicate features, Irene can’t help but feel a certain sadness.

Since her time at the coffee shop, Irene has only fallen harder for Y/n, and every day it seems to get more difficult for the brunette to ignore. With each melodic laugh of the younger girl or relaxed half-smile, Joohyun only wants to call Y/n her own even more, a fact that Y/n remains blissfully unaware of, despite the constant urges of Joohyun’s members who have also come to enjoy Y/n’s company.

Irene remembers her conversation with her bandmates last night, when she had first asked them to leave the dorm for the night, recalling how all the girls, even the troublesome maknae, seemed to agree that Y/n liked Joohyun just as much if not more. But still, Irene is unsure, not even knowing if Y/n likes girls.

“Rene!” Joohyun flinches as Y/n flicks a piece of popcorn at the older girl, smiling slightly at the nickname Y/n had begun to call her a couple weeks ago. “The movie is over. Should we watch another?”

Joohyun only looks at the younger girl, resisting the urge to reach out and trace Y/n’s soft-looking lips.

“Joohyun?” Y/n asks, brows furrowing as she waves a hand in front of Irene’s face. “Are you alive?”

Irene’s eyes widen. “Yeah,” She mumbles, “Sorry.”

“Alright,” Y/n says, moving so she’s facing Irene, taking the older girl’s hand in her own. “What’s wrong, you’ve been acting weird this whole week and your fingers are doing that twitching thing you do when you’re upset.”

Irene bites her lip, realizing that she has been acting off the past few days, a little more spacey than usual, and as she gazes into Y/n’s worried eyes, she sighs looking down into her lap. Joohyun‘s thoughts drift to the Daegu girl, who she had spent years pining over, simply because she was too afraid to do anything, and maybe it’s time, Irene thinks, to just get it over with and ask Y/n what she desperately wants to. To see if there is a chance, for Joohyun who has never had intimacy before, aside from a few quick flings, to find lasting love and comfort with Y/n, who could like girls.

However, Joohyun also knows the crushing side of that equation, realizing that there is also a chance that the younger girl does not like girls, and Irene is just a friend to her. But as Irene closes her eyes, focusing on her breathing, she pictures herself with Y/n, and she wants it so bad, her heart swelling with courage as she squeezes Y/n’s hand.

“Y/n,” Joohyun finally whispers after a long silence, glancing hesitantly into Y/n’s sparkling brown eyes. “Do you like girls?”

Irene can’t quite decipher the look Y/n gives her, but she can definitely feel the dread budding in her stomach as Y/n softly let’s go of Joohyun’s hand, moving it to rest on Joohyun’s thigh. “I like guys. But-“

Joohyun freezes at the younger girl’s words, wishing she could just disappear as a sudden iciness spreads through her body. Abruptly, Joohyun sits up, cheeks filling with embarrassment as she hurriedly moves away from Y/n, her body suddenly jerking to a stop as Y/n grabs her wrist, pulling the older girl close and pressing her lips against Joohyun’s. Irene hesitates at first, before beginning to kiss Y/n back, her fingers moving to tangle themselves amongst the younger girl’s hair. Joohyun bites down on Y/n’s lower lip, her tongue moving to explore Y/n’s mouth, causing her to let out a moan, a sound that makes Irene’s heartbeat quicken. Joohyun visibly frowns as Y/n slowly breaks away from Irene, a small smile beginning to spread across the younger girl's lips.

“You didn’t let me finish Joohyun,” Y/n laughs softly, her hands move to gently cup Irene’s delicate face. “I like guys, but I also like girls.”

And for some reason, Joohyun starts to cry.

///

Irene feels like a child again when she’s with Y/n. She feels that same joy she felt when she lived in Daegu, the happiness and innocence that she found herself missing last year finally found again, something she especially feels as she walks through the winding paths of her favorite park, hand tightly clutching Y/n’s.

“Thank you for coming,” Joohyun says as she and Y/n take a seat on a bench, Irene sighing contentedly as she watches the cherry blossoms trees shaking in the breeze.

Y/n nods, grinning broadly and reaching out to catch a falling flower. “Of course, you know I love visiting your hometown.”

Irene smiles at the taller girl, allowing Y/n to gently place a blossom behind her ear.

“I love you,” Y/n says, running her fingers through Joohyun’s hair which has been recently cut short.

Joohyun tilts her head, pulling Y/n into a soft kiss just as the April wind begins to pick up, sending the fallen cherry blossoms into a whirlwind of pink that seems to magically encapsulate the two girls, hiding them in their own world, even if only for a moment.

“I love you too,” Joohyun whispers.

And who better, Irene thinks, as she presses her lips to Y/n’s again, to share her favorite time of year with.

#girl group scenarios #girl group imagines #red velvet scenario #red velvet imagines #irene x reader #red velvet x reader #red velvet #irene #irene imagines #irene scenarios #red velvet fluff #bae joohyun #bae joohyun x reader

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virmillion · 5 years

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Ibytm - T minus 32 seconds

Masterpost - Previous Chapter - Next Chapter - ao3

Words: 3,591

Logan fidgets with his bow tie in the mirror, watching the light catch on the sparkling gold stitching. Against the deep purple of the fabric, the reflection of the shining yellow thread looks like jewels dancing along his jaw. He glances to the side, watching his dad walk over to fix it for him.

“You really need to wear more than your skinny long ties,” his dad mutters, pulling the bow taught. “Then you wouldn’t have such a hard time with this one.”

“Oh, leave him alone, Emile,” Logan’s doddo huffs. (Yes, Doddo, as in ‘dah-doh,’ because Logan had a very obsessive dodo bird phase when he was younger and still learning to speak.) Logan meets his eyes in the mirror as his doddo tries to smile, and the way his near-black eyes crinkle up at the corners is almost enough to bring drops of water to Logan’s matching pair. “Let him have his day.”

“Yeah, Dad ,” Logan adds, wrinkling his nose to make the title sound appropriately nasally. “Let me have my day.”

“I’ll let you have it when you earn it,” his dad replies good-naturedly, pulling him into a side hug. From under his dad’s head, which rests on his own, Logan glances over their reflections, taking stock of a future he might well be heading for. Grey hair pulled back from a widow’s peak, just long enough to be pulled into a spurt of flyaways through a hair tie, resting on his shoulders with a weight even Atlas wouldn’t bear, but it does nothing to diminish those familiar laugh lines. Through everything in Logan’s life, those laugh lines have always been there, always reminded him of why it’s worth it to keep going. Those laugh lines are all Logan has ever aspired to become.

“Hey, hey! No crying on your special day!” his doddo says suddenly, waving his hands over his head. Logan brushes a finger over the damp skin beneath his eye and smiles.

“I can’t promise you anything of the sort.”

“Well, will you at least wait until you actually see the man you’re stuck with now before you go breaking down about it?”

“I’ll do my best.” Logan rests his fingers on the bow tie, watching it glitter against the tears in his dad’s eyes.

The walk to the altar is a blur, fraught with tripping over his own feet and trying to maneuver his doddo’s chair across the bumpy parts of the grass. Logan barely remembers to wrap his parents in the tightest hug he can manage before he breaks away to his spot at the ride side of the altar.

Roman tuts, tapping Logan’s shoulder to get him to turn around. Messing with his bow tie, he chides Logan, “I told you, no more hugs after the final touch-ups.”

“And I told you to leave the sword at home.”

“It’s tradition for the groom to be able to defend his bride from any kidnappers, and you refusing to be prepared for that means I have to pick up the slack!”

“Roman. Sword down. ”

Roman huffs before stashing the very real sword behind the stage, hiding it in the taller patches of grass crawling up the sides, but he gives Logan a pointed look as he does so. Where did he even get a sword? “If someone tries to steal your bride, don’t come crying to me when you aren’t ready to fight.”

“Virgil isn’t my bride.”

“Not yet he’s not, and he certainly won’t be if you keep up that attitude.”

Logan rolls his eyes and pats his tie one last time before turning to the marriage officiant, who gives him a reassuring nod. “Everything is good to go, and he should be walking down that aisle any minute now.”

As Logan inhales and glances at the white carpet rolling across the grass and holds that deep breath, he feels goosebumps skitter all over his skin. Maybe it was a little too on-the-nose to pick an open field that’s framed with trees, but at least the leaves did him the dignity of decking themselves out in brilliant reds and oranges. A few shreds of yellow dance across the breeze and tickle the back of his neck. At least it’s right up against the side of a nice restaurant that was more than willing to put up their short-notice reservation. They even blocked out a decent chunk of the building for them to occupy after the dinner rush. A nice little place, really, one Logan’s fiance has sworn by since forever, and Logan kind of gets the feeling they aren’t often chosen for weddings and receptions, especially such impromptu ones as this.

Granted, they could’ve shot for earlier in the day, too, but it’s more than a little too late for regrets. Plus, hey, Logan kind of likes the soft pinks of the sunset framing their little stage, and he’s almost certain he’ll love how the colors will slice across Virgil’s sharp features. He feels something clap his shoulder, and turns to face Roman again.

“You’ve got this, buddy.” Roman grins, holding his gaze just a little longer than he needs to.

Logan nods and releases the shuddering breath he forgot he was holding, looking out over the audience. He’s never been particularly uncomfortable with crowds before—quite the contrary, in fact, as he’s the best presenter the fifth floor had to offer—but this feels different. This is a group of literally the most important people in their lives, gathered in one spot to watch literally the most important day of their lives.

Fine.

Logan is nervous.

He turns to his parents in the front row on his side, both of whom are flashing him giddy thumbs-ups and waves. He pretends not to notice the persistent tears still sparkling in his dad’s eyes.

He looks away, hoping the wells of emotion aren’t so blatantly reflected in his own face. If he’s breaking down this early, there’s no way he’ll make it through the rest of the ceremony, much less the reception.

Soft piano notes swell, creeping into the air and floating in circles around Logan’s head like so many flickering stars. Off to the side of the stage sits Joy, who nods at Logan as the melody picks up. Her fingers dance over the keys, keeping time with Logan’s erratic heartbeat. It was nothing short of a miracle that she agreed to provide the music for this part, but Logan can hardly even begin to think of all the ways he owes her as the doors to the restaurant swing open, revealing Virgil on his mother’s arm. His father stands in the front row on the audience’s left side, openly crying into his handkerchief. He knew he wouldn’t be composed enough to get Virgil down the aisle without collapsing, and Virgil’s mom was more than happy to oblige.

Virgil wears the perfect inverse of Logan’s outfit—a deep gold washing over his pale skin at sunset, accented with warm swaths of purple and bursts of pure white. The only unique thing in the color scheme is the tie looped around his neck, a pastel silver etched with lilac. With every achingly slow step Virgil takes, Logan feels his heart ricocheting around inside his body, bouncing off his ribcage and hammering into his knees and slamming against the top of his skull and trying to leak out through his eyes. It’s all Logan can do not to mirror his parents’ little emotion fest.

All too soon and nowhere near soon enough, Virgil arrives at Logan’s side. His mother nods and smiles at Logan, pressing Virgil’s hands into his before joining her husband on the left side, where she comforts the weeping man.

“Dad never was one for the stony silence kind of things,” Virgil says under his breath. Logan fights back a giggle.

“No, he really wasn’t.” Were it not for the officiant clearing his throat to get the ceremony underway, Logan might take the chance to reminisce on that one New Years’ Eve party, where Virgil’s dad circled the building delivering his sincerest emotional wisdom, bolstered by the liquid confidence infecting his veins. Virgil squeezes Logan’s hand once more before letting go, stepping back to make room for the officiant to stand between them.

“Great turnout for a week’s notice!” the officiant declares, expertly clapping his hands together. This earns a light chuckle from the admittedly small crowd. Good ice breaker. Now Logan just has to survive, y’know, the whole rest of the speech. Easier said than done.

“I’ve done many a ceremony in my time,” the officiant continues, “but few have surprised me so thoroughly as this one. I’ve seen couples elope on the spot, plan five years in advance, and pretty much everything else outside and in between. With all that in the tank, it might be hard to believe that never, in all my years, have I seen such a pair as Logan Marcus Walders and Virgil Sandovall.

“Their passion for each other truly surpasses that of all else—and older couples in the audience, please take no offense to my saying so.” Another light laugh. “In truth, you have all come here because, in some way or another, you know this, you understand this, and you believe in this—this being love.” Logan’s breath catches.

“Love is easily one of the most difficult, simple, painful, healing, awful, wonderful, insurmountably beautiful things on this earth. It brings together so many people with so many backgrounds, so many emotions, so many lives, and you pass that on to someone else, and you build each other up beyond what could ever be expected of you on your own.

“This simple ceremony, a few hours’ worth of speeches and declarations and toasts, is not enough to set you on the path down the life you intend to lead, nor is the license of some guy off Craigslist.” Even Logan allows himself to laugh this time. “I kid, of course. But in all sincerity, it is no secret that these two will not continue their lives together without some form of support from the community around them. They may have their love to fuel each other, but the people to whom they turn in times of hardship are some of the strongest people they will have the privilege of knowing. They cannot do this alone, and all of you present surely know the trials that await. Your support will be vital when they find their own strength faltering.” Logan doesn’t have to look to know both of his parents are well past trying to hold back their tears.

“We have reached the point where I ask the both of you to say your vows, and to give your love unto each other. Before that may happen, however, I ask that you think back upon your love—the love built on trust, care, acceptance, and knowing that true strength comes from supporting each other through your weaknesses. Look back on this love, and know that by making these vows, and by keeping these vows, your lives will be forever entwined, far more closely than any one person could ever say. Please now read your vows.”

Logan fights the rising lump in his throat, immediately wishing he’d brought some flashcards to quiet his nerves. He fumbles his hand around behind him, feeling for Roman’s solid grip. Roman grabs his fingers and squeezes them tightly, and Logan sniffles before barreling on with the speech he could probably do in his sleep. It might actually sound more confident if he were unconscious, rather than so solidly aware of every molecule of air separating him from Virgil.

“I, Logan, take you, Virgil, to be my husband, my companion and friend, my universe explorer, and my truest love. I will put all I have into lifting you up, into maintaining what we have, and into fighting the tests of time and change to ensure that our bond is never torn apart by anything we could face together. I—” He hesitates, knowing his bravado is going to crack and knowing there’s nothing he can do about it.

“I love you for—from the bottom of my hurt—heart, and my soul, and my soles, ha, and I—I’ll be by your side, in every sense of the where—word, for as long as I can stand on my own two feet, and—and even after that.” Logan hears his dad sniffle something fierce as he lowers his voice to a whisper, and maybe a tear or two of his own gets out, but he certainly wouldn’t admit to as much if anyone asked. “And no matter how long it takes, I will bring you the moon.” How Virgil has managed to keep his composure for this long is a mystery to Logan, who exhales shakily, his part done for the moment.

“And I, Virgil take you, Logan, to be my husband, my companion and friend, my universe explorer, and my truest love. I will do whatever it takes to remain with you, and I will put aside anything that might stand in the way of your being content, and I will ensure that we can together be at peace. I will stand to see that you never want for anything, and I promise you that I will always be at your side, for as long as you’ll have me.” Virgil drops his own voice, and it would be a crime for Logan to deny the smile weaseling its way onto his face. “And however long it takes, it will still cost you the stars.”

The officiant nods to Virgil’s youngest sibling—a slight girl of almost nine years, her light brown hair done up in a braided nest and crowned with flowers. “May I have the rings, please?” She rises carefully and stares at her feet as she holds the plush velvet pillow straight out in front of herself, poking her tongue out in obvious concentration to not trip on the way up to the stage.

When she reaches the officiant and thrusts the pillow at him, Virgil elbows her in the shoulder. “Not bad, dork.” She pulls a goofy face at him before retreating to her spot in the front row, where her mom pats her back lightly and smiles.

The officiant continues his spiel, looking first to Logan. “Do you, Logan Marcus Walders, take Virgil Sandovall to be your lawfully wedded husband from this day forth? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for rich or for poor, in joy and in sorrow, in love and matrimony, for better or worse, for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do.” Logan slips the band onto Virgil’s finger, watching the soft pink light of the sunset catch that familiar promise engraved along the inside. He’s pretty sure he would collapse right about now, were it not for Roman and Virgil on either side to hold him up. Logan is very close to spontaneously imploding. The glittering bow around his neck is the only thing keeping his insides in, to be completely frank.

“And do you, Virgil Sandovall, take Logan Marcus Walders to be your lawfully wedded husband from this day forth? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for rich or for poor, in joy and in sorrow, in love and matrimony, for better or worse, for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do.” Tears are pouring freely down Logan’s face now as he watches Virgil slip the wedding band onto his finger, inlaid with that same response. All the stars in the sky couldn’t outshine the swelling of Logan’s heart.

“By the power vested in me, I pronounce you husband and husband. You may now kiss the groom!”

Logan almost melts then and there into Virgil’s arms as the latter pulls him into a fierce hug, burying his nose in the puffy material along Logan’s shoulder. Logan takes a steadying breath before leaning back just enough to get a good look at Virgil’s face. At least Logan isn’t the only one crying on stage anymore.

Logan presses his lips to Virgil’s, exhaling softly when he feels Virgil’s hand come to rest on the back of his head. He distantly hears the crowd cheering, distantly hears the officiant take a few respectful steps back, distantly hears Roman clapping louder than anyone else, distantly hears Patton putting his daughter’s hands together for her, distantly hears his whole world clicking deftly into place.

“How’s that for a wedding put together in just a week?” Virgil mumbles, pulling away just enough to whisper the question.

Logan rolls his eyes and laughs, tugging Virgil into another hug and squeezing his back tight enough to feel the ring pressing an indent of words along his finger. “Think we’ve got a reception to get to,” he informs Virgil’s jacket. Virgil laughs, the sound reverberating through Logan’s chest before they finally separate completely, both beaming brighter than the sunset behind them.

Something Logan can only describe as a blurry whirlwind passes as different people shuffle around them, propelling him through the doors of the restaurant and into the dining area set aside for them. The room is blissfully silent, the only sounds coming from him and Virgil leaning on each other as they walk. Everyone else waits respectfully outside, presumably holding back until the head waiter cues for them to come in.

“Bit more showy than we usually go for, no?” Virgil’s voice dances through Logan’s head like a haze of warmth.

Logan laughs and settles on his side as they take their seats, sighing softly. “I liked it.” He holds up his hand, admiring the gleam of silver and gold. “Think this is my favorite part, though.”

“Can’t argue with you there.” Virgil holds his own hand up beside Logan’s, tilting his head to rest it against the top of Logan’s hair. “You ready for even more attention?”

“No, but send them in anyway.” Virgil signals to the waiters beside the doors, who pull them open to allow the sea of guests to flood inside. Logan acknowledges the words of praise and congratulations with small smiles, trying to tamp down the flurry of emotions rising in his chest. Once everyone is seated, the waiters swerve between the chairs to hand out glasses of champagne, as well as sparkling cider to the kids and the adults that ask for it.

“Know what this is?” Virgil mumbles into Logan’s ear.

“Probably not,” Logan replies, watching Virgil’s dad pick up a knife in one hand and his champagne flute in the other.

“The fun part. We just have to sit here and smile.”

“Sounds easy enough.”

Virgil’s dad clinks his glass lightly, waiting for the buzzing crowd to quiet down. Logan barely hears a word out of his mouth, too focused on the weight of Virgil’s arm draped over his shoulders. He must finish at some point, because he sits down as one of Virgil’s sisters rises to clink her own glass. Logan loses track of the order after that, all of his attention squarely on not crying again. That is, until Roman stands up. Then Logan is too terrified to look away.

“Logan Wald—er, Logan Sandov—um.” Roman hesitates, waiting for a cue on which surname to go with.

“I guess we never officially announced that, huh?” Logan mumbles to Virgil. “We still going with option two?”

“I like option two,” Virgil replies.

Logan turns back to Roman. “Combined name. Sandovall and Walders. Sanders.”

“Right. So as I’m sure most of you are aware, I’ve known Logan Sanders for quite a few years now—no newbie could deal with that kind of last minute name change out of nowhere, at least not as well as I did.” This earns a hearty laugh, though that might be due in considerable part to the light buzz from the champagne.

“He’s never made a whole lot of sense to me, nor did he ever promise to. First day I met him, I knew nothing would ever be quite normal with him around. I’ve never met anyone else so ridiculously devoted to every aspect of their life and work, much less to all the smaller calculations and details that bore me to tears. That said, Logan has never been so single-mindedly dedicated to anything as he is to Virgil.

“They’re unbelievably close, more so than Logan ever was with riddles that earned brownie points with his boss, and the day Logan brought up his first date with Virgil was a day I’ll never forget—mostly because he also picked that day to tell me about the second date. And the third, and the fourth, and the several months that went by before he decided to tell us they’d even officially met .” Roman fixes Logan with a pointed stare, prompting him to shift uncomfortably in his seat. “That’s what we in the ’biz call ‘not passing on crucial information,’ a term with which Mr. Sanders here is very familiar.”

Roman raises his glass with a grin, and Logan is pretty sure the look on his face was just ripped wholesale from the iconic image of the titular character in The Great Gatsby. “To the Sanders!”

The cry echoes in a cheerful chorus around the room, everyone toasting with their flutes before dissolving into warm laughter and upbeat conversations.

“To the Sanders,” Logan mumbles, pressing deeper against Virgil’s side.

“To the Sanders,” Virgil agrees.

#labhwrites #mine #i'll bring you the moon #ibytm

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