#but i guess the beauty is leaving my comfort zone to try something new

[gentil-minou]

reread some nice comments and feel better again so yay but i have to go to sleep because i have a jOB D: and i just want to stay home and writeeeee

i've written 36k for this fic but my brain has reached the point where it keeps telling me im a sucky writer and should just quit and ahhh i need the anxiety to shut up and just let me have fun and not have imposter syndrome

[imsilay]

VENOR pt.2

NSFW! mdni +18

word count: 1.8k

summary: His obsession for you was overwhelming. So yours too.

prev

cr: dwisesz on twt

You were in the most comfortable position on your bed, pillows between your arms and legs as you lay on your side. The feeling of the warmth of your bed was so good to leave but you had to go to work. You turned around in the bed and you felt something else, something you weren't used to. It was big, hard, and covered the most of your twin-sized bed.

"Guten Morgen, Prinzessin." he chuckled lightly at the confusion on your sleepy face and ran his fingers through your hair. "König?" you mumbled, looking up to meet his icy-blue eyes. He hummed in response and continued to fondle with your hair. His gaze was on your hair, adoring how beautiful it was. His heart was hammering in his chest, as he tried to stop the trembling in his hands. Being this close to you was overwhelming him. "Did you break into my house? Again?" you said jokingly like you were tired of finding him in your house all the time. Only if you knew what else he was doing while you were at work... "You were the one who gave me your keys, Prinzessin." He chuckled again. He would be a giggling and blushing mess, if he didn't have the self-control. "Yeah, but does it give you the right to come unannounced and lay on my bed?" you said, proping yourself up on your elbows.

You little cheeky thing... The position that you're in made his gaze drop to your breasts. "Yes. It pretty much does.” he mumbled quietly while his head was moving to look at your face, but his eyes were glued to the thin fabric of your black nightgown. Your nipples were visible and his mind was going foggy from seeing them this close. What would you do if he weighed himself on you and pinned your hands above your head? Could you stop him when he lose himself between your breasts? Inhaling your scent deeply and sucking your nipples until you were wet and ready for him.

"I guess I need to get used to it by now." you giggled, sounding everything but disturbed by his actions. Your breasts undulating deliciously, making it even harder for him to look away. He was drooling over the sight. Of course you noticed where his gaze was, he was making it too obvious. You used it to tease him cruelly. He nodded his head with no idea what he was agreeing with. All he could think about was tearing your nightgown and devouring you. You noticed he was so zoned out and you shaked your head. He was so cute and you knew he was blushing behind that mask.

You got up and he caught a glimpse of your soft thighs. He just got up from your bed reluctantly and followed you like a lost puppy. He was almost entering the bathroom with you, but you gave him a look and he stood right before the door. It was funny to see a man like him, understanding and following your orders, without you needing to say anything.

He put his ear to the door, trying to listen to everything you did inside. The sound of the shower turning on made his heart skip a beat. You were there, naked and vulnerable. He could just bang in and do everything he wanted to you. He could bend you down and fuck your little cunt from behind as you tried to steady yourself from his rapid pace. He could fuck you like a animal and then bathe you like a baby. Just to fuck you later again.

But he didn't do anything. He took the opportunity to fix and hide more little cameras around your house, a new one for your bedroom and kitchen. Because you broke the previous one, without even knowing they were there. When he was done, you were out of the shower and, unfortunately for him, changed into new clothes. "I just realised that it's my day off!" you said, while entering the kitchen, knowing that you'd find him there. "I assume that you're hungry?" you smiled, as you already knew the answer. He was always hungry, not only for the food, but that mountain of a man, ate a lot. He would eat whatever you gave him, without complaining. He was leaned against the fridge and had his arms crossed over his chest, and looked bigger like that, you thought to yourself.

"That means I have you all for myself, huh?" He smirked at you under the mask, tilting his head to the side. His whole mood brightened up when he got the news. "Sorry, i already promised someone." you winked at him and started to prepare something for breakfast. It wasn’t true, you were just trying to get some reaction from him. His body tensed at the thought of you being out with someone other than him. He clenched his fists and his muscles looked bigger. He was right at your way, while you were trying to open the fridge. "Can you sit down?" you tilted your head to the side as you waited for him to move away. "Do you have a date?" He raised an eyebrow and didn't move from his place. Now feeling his cold and firm expression, you knew the reason why. "Maybe," you cooed, stepping closer to him, enjoying the effect you were having on him. "Why did you ask?" you smiled.

"Nothing." He mumbled quietly, while moving away. Having you close made his mind go blank and his focus waver. He knew he'd find out later on. "If you say so." you shrugged but knew that he was trying his best to cover up his jealousy. Then he sat down like a good boy, with his eyes firmly set on you, as you were moving inside the kitchen. You could feel that he was watching your every move, intensely. He had his urges under control, but the urge of taking ownership over you was too strong to suppress.

Watching you was triggering something in him. He just had to touch you when you were this close. His cock got hard as your body danced inside the kitchen. You were so focused on flipping the pancakes, and wanted to make it perfect, he got closer to you from behind. He grabbed your spatula, "Let me do it, Prinzessin." in a low voice that sent chills up your spine. His voice was like a purr and he towered over you, with his firm chest almost pressing against your back. You felt the heat radiating from his body and swallowed thickly. That tension between you and him was back and you wondered what would happen next. He could bend you over to counter and bully his cock inside your tight pussy but the pancakes would go waste, not that he was scared of your rejection. "Sure." You muttered, your voice just above a whisper. His big palm was covering your small hand and you used all your willpower to let go. He bit his lip, as he tried to not let out a moan when your body brushed against his while you walked out in between him and the counter. The tension between you was palpable as he glanced at ypu while flipping the pancakes with such seriousness. His cock was rock hard already and he wished you wouldn’t notice the big tent in front of his pants. When the pancakes were ready he rushed to bathroom saying he had to wash his hands real quick. But his intentions were different.

The first thing he did, was to place four cameras in there. He wanted to see you in every angle. After the job was done, it was time for him to get rid of the tent on his pants. His gaze wandered in the bathroom trying to find anything that could help him. Anything that reminded you. And that was when his eyes landed on the laundry basket. At first he shook his head and pulled his cock out, wanting to do it fast and go back to kitchen. But stroking the thick length with his palm wasn’t enough. He tried to toy with his precum leaking tip. It was so sensitive and draw low groans from him. But it wasn’t enough. He needed more because knowing you were at the same house turned him on wven more. It angered him that you got him that hard. He let out a sigh of frustration and quickly searched the thing he was looking for. He found it. And his cock throbbed with just the look of it. It was the panties you wore yesterday, when he watched you desperately finger yourself with your small hand. He groaned and brought it closer to his mask hesitantly. It was the first time he got that far. What if he became addicted to your scent, your taste? What if he couldn’t contain himself anymore and eat you out before breakfast? What if it would be his breaking point?

It was too late for thinking about it when your arousal filled his nostrils. His cock twitched in his hand. He leaned against the cold wall of your bathroom with your panties under his mask, sniffing it like a pervert, and stroking his cock furiously. “Scheiße- I want you so bad, Maus.” he whimpered. His breath swollen and fast. His eyes rolled back when he stuffed your panties into his mouth to muffle his groans and moans. Your taste spinned his head and made him cum uncontrollably fast. Now he was wanting to taste your fresh arousal. Nothing was enough until he had you. He was so desperate for it to regret his action. He placed the panties back because he knew if they disappeared while he was at your house you’d know. You’d know how pervert he is and hate him, right? No. You were at the door when he was jerking off to your panties, whimpering your name. It made you feel proud of yourself knowing that he couldn’t even waited to go back home to satisfy himself.

You noticed he could not look you into the eyes during breakfast and even while doing the dishes, he remained silent. Was that because he was ashamed of his actions? You tried to look into his eyes but he kept avoiding you constantly. Your heart ached when he did not even look at you as he left your house. What was he thinking? Normally he wouldn’t leave your house before midnight or you kicked him out. The curiosity got to you and you wondered what was going on in his mind.

He would have done it a long time ago had he the bravery. "What am I going to do with you, Maus?" He mumbled to himself and sighed. It was difficult for him not to attack your lips after tasting your arousal -even through your panties- He could not even look you in the eyes, because if he did, he wouldn't be able to control himself and do something he'd regret later.

a/n: please support me by reblogging, if you liked the content ofc <3 your comments also makes my day :* and i love to reply all of them :>

taglist

@bunnyclaire @bigtastyrake @lazyflue @eddiemxnsonlvr @azzy-ozborn @sukioyakio @maylovesyousomuch @pinkblossomsworld @alxexhearts @cheezbites @opaljoyfish @maylovesyousomuch @aizawaswhoresworld @rilamon @catycat01 @ghostslillady @penguinobambino @elichisstuff

idk i’m not satisfied with this. tbh i hate this so i could delete and change it later :/ (i lost my ability to write?!)

[morathicain]

Rewatching the final of The On1y One after the second season announcement and because sometimes pain and heartbreak and good acting and longing symbolism are a must.

Still baffled though, how some people see Tian's breakdown on the stairs as a teenage temper tantrum. Like how???

Of course, emotions probably get heightened by those teenage hormones but it's no wonder Jiang Tian is breaking down? Like, he's so torn between care and sadness and anger. And not because Sheng Wang is switching to another classroom, but because Sheng Wang did it on purpose. Because Sheng Wang, after being so close to kiss him during that one night and giving a glimpse of hope that the love might be reciprocated, CHOSE to go away from him. Sheng Wang, who promised to stay by his side, who'd become his home, Tian's personal safe space, the one who promised to be honest with him, messed up an exam to the point that he now has to stay away (to make himself fall out of love). This isn't about a little distance while learning (although Jiang Tian will miss him for sure) but after so many years of getting abandoned and not daring to believe he has a place, the one he finally gives a chance again, basically betrays him.

Of course, it's all about unspoken words and misunderstood feelings. Sheng Wang calling Jiang Tian "Big brother" in the end as a damn reminder to himself to keep his proper distance and be a good younger brother and for Jiang Tian it means a forced distance that pushes him away and also Sheng Wang burying whatever spark of hope there had been. He's drawing a clear line between them and keeping Jiang Tian on the other side. And all of that after months of bonding and getting closer and Sheng Wang pushing himself into Jiang Tian's life and comfort zone.

And he knows or at least guesses and that guess becomes clearer with everytime Sheng Wang avoids his gaze and acts so fucking guilty, literally curling into himself. Let's not forget Jiang Tian is able to read him so well because he cares and watches. And even when he's about to cry angry tears because Sheng Wang won't even admit he fluked it on purpose and doesn't give a reason (which proves the point that it's because of Jiang Tian and that hurts double) but curls into himself and is lying so obviously, Jiang Tian cares so fucking much, he brings mint and lemon water. But while he's still there, Sheng Wang won't even touch that. Not even talking of the bracelet ripping in the most beautiful of symbolic choices.

And then he feels as if he's getting replaced in Sheng Wang's new classroom and yes, Sheng Wang being away now, out of touch and reach, especially emotionally (and the distance is a physical and emotional one, a symbolic even) does hurt him and make him devastated. Because that way, Sheng Wang can keep the mask on way too well.

So yes. Yes, he might be a teenager and his emotions might be heightened but this is not an unreasonable tantrum (and even those often have reasons but might be harder to get from the outside). I'm in my 30s and if the person I loved and finally let into my life and who was my home and promised to stay, lied to me and made sure they had to stay away from me on purpose, avoiding me and not even admitting to any of it? I'd be angry and devastated, too.

WE know Sheng Wang's reasons for trying to keep his feelings in check and forcefully turn his love back into what's right again. He's had his whole sexual awakening and self realisation all at once, together with the shame and guilt for feeling that way. We know but Jiang Tian doesn't and for him, this all comes out of nowhere and leaves him alone where they'd walked together before.

But Jiang Tian can't keep his care hidden and still cares so much. Ngl loved when he claimed Sheng Wang's seat, angry at Wang for leaving but possessive enough to have this spot for himself now. As if to keep it for Sheng Wang or as if to have whatever is left of the boy he loves and this is something, no one can take away.

So yeah, yeah, I am in my feels and they're deep and crushing and painful and I love it. Can't wait for the next season!!

[rays-of-fire-and-ice]

For the fanfic meme! 4. What detail in "As Months Go By, As Seasons Change" are you really proud of? / 7. Any worldbuilding you’re particularly proud of? / 30. Have you ever written something that was out of your comfort zone? If so, what was it, and how did it affect your approach to writing fic thereafter?

questions for fic writers

Sorry I took a while to answer this!

4. What detail in "As Months Go By, As Seasons Change" are you really proud of?

How Shinji and Momo's dynamic turned out. I was daunted at first, trying to think of how I could possibly write their dynamic in a way that felt in-character and organic. I had a few ideas that inspired the fic - namely, the moment where Shinji hands Momo her lieutenant's badge, when Shinji gets a phone call from the Visoreds, and the scene in the kitchens where they discuss Aizen - but they were more like images rather than scenes, if that makes sense. I knew how I wanted the scene to look, but not what was being said or done but the two of them. My perfectionism got in the way too.

Eventually, I just threw myself into it, starting with the first scene of the fic with Momo about leave Fourth Division. After finshing that scene, I got the gist of their dynamic and how it could unfold from there. It also helped to read what happened in Death Save the Strawberry as a general framework.

In the end, I love how their dynamic and growth turned out in the fic, and to get your amazing, AMAZING, comments that just...(darn, I'm grinning just thinking about your comments).

7. Any worldbuilding you’re particularly proud of?

I'm not much a of a worldbuilder, I like to focus more on plot and character. However, I was happy with how I built the world of Worlds Apart. Not only was it my first time writing a fantasy AU, I did entirely based on this beautiful piece of fanart by @tinaillustrations. I don't even know how I managed to pull it off, but somehow I came up with a whole new world!

30. Have you ever written something that was out of your comfort zone? If so, what was it, and how did it affect your approach to writing fic thereafter?

Writing trauma and recovery for Momo. These are very sensitive subjects and the last thing I want to do is write them in an insensitive or stereotypical way. I've brought up Momo's trauma in several fics at this point, but when starting off, I was so unsure for how to go about it. I got more courage after reading more meta pieces about Momo's character, watching shows that are recommended for having good portrayals of trauma and recovery (or not recovering in some cases), and also real life stories about those who have gone through similar trauma. I also reflected on how I've coped with some of life's struggles (I've never gone through anything like Momo has, not even close) and also how friends and family got through their struggles. In the end, I came to realise everyone goes through trauma differently, and they also recover differently, so I tried to approach writing Momo's trauma and recovery by focusing on her as a character - how would she react if someone brought up Aizen? Would she be triggered by a sound or smell? Does she still have nightmares? How has it affected her relationships? So I guess in terms of how it affects my writing fics, I just think about 'if this character were confronted with this traumatic event, how will they react?' and going from there.

The way I've written Momo's trauma, how she recovers from it, and how it informs her everyday living, is just my take on how it goes, and I'm always keen to see how others write it too. I'm also open to feedback about my portrayal of both elements too, as I mentioned I don't want to write something that's insensitive or stereotypical.

Thanks for sending these in!! :D

[thoughts4all]

Day 208: Life is Beautiful

I was walking home from my basketball game and I noticed the moon. I mean really noticed. It is a massive celestial body circling the Earth. It is very comforting. I realized I have been taking it for granted. The moon effects are tides, it illuminates our nights, and its present during the day too. It is so beautiful. It was so many little details and it is a very pretty shade.

I realized religion has made me less accepting and I want to change that. I used to be very supportive of the LGBT but lately I have been looking down on it. I realized, that is not what God wanted anyways. Only he is to judge what am I. I guess was afraid I would be judged poorly by him if I support them and consequently made the world more queer. However, I realized that is silly. God knows my intentions. He knows I would never be apart of that. I should not treat them poorly just because I am afraid to be associated when it is my turn to be judged. Every human should be treated with love and respect. Plus, deep down I think I believe the LGBT community lacks love and respect. So if I make them feel welcome in the world, they might not (incoming assumption) feel the need to do extravagant things to make themselves feel recognized and seen in the world. At the end of the day, I should support them more because I think they need the support.

What if I take the poorly paid job in Germany? I recently got an interview for a position in Germany for my coop placement. The job is not advanced enough for me and it barely pays anything. It would be poor for my career and horrible for my finances. However, it will change my life around. It will be an experience unlike anything I have ever experienced before. Working in a little city in Germany where no one speaks english. I would live alone with no friend or family. I won't know the language or the culture of my new home. This will push me to learn German which will be very cool. This will teach me to be alone which is something I wanted to try for a very long time. This will force me out of my comfort zone to the extreme. I won't even be able to travel a lot in Europe due to poor finances. This experience might make me miss home and make me infinitely more grateful of my life here right now. Will make me value my friends and family to a degree I have never experienced. It will help isolate me from the noise and help me find out what I really want. It will help me find myself. If I do not take this opportunity, I feel like I might be submitting to this life for slightly better and better career and social opportunities. The rat race is not bad. However, it could be cool to leave it for a bit. Taking this job in Germany has zero benefit to "capitalist life". Less money, not climbing corporate ladder, not building off previous jobs for better jobs, not learning new career valuable skills, might use up reserve money, not taking advantage of free rent at my parents' house, etcetera. On the other side, I am young. This is the best opportunity to do something like this. I could get an actual good skillful job internationally later in my career. That would do a lot of the same effect. However, then I would be super involved in my career. The fact that there is almost no benefit with this position is kind of freeing. If I went later to a more skillful international job, I won't be finding myself. I would be working just as hard with a similar mindset for my corporate career but just exploring this new culture on my spare time. Going to Germany right now might help me find myself since I don't have too many valuable corporate skills so I won't be pulled to one path in life. Anyways these are just thoughts. I probably won't go to Germany, due to the shear size of the life changes I would have to make. But it is still on my mind.

[fexalted]

transcribed for anyone who needs it:

Beaming Up: DeForest Kelley

by Ruth Berman

DeForest Kelley arranged to meet me at a time when cast, crew and equipment would be shifting from Soundstage 1 back to the Enterprise on Stage 9, a maneuver which he knew from experience would leave him enough time to sit down for a while.  "Hello," he said, coming up behind me.  I turned to an unusual sight.  In "The Empath," Dr. Leonard McCoy had just been horribly tortured over on Stage 1.  The tunic of his uniform was in rags.  DeForest Kelley, on the contrary, was in normal health, and he briskly led the way to his dressing rooms, McCoy's rags fluttering around him.  "What have you got on your mind -- what do you want to know?" he asked.

"Well, about McCoy, for one thing.  What sort of a character would you say he is?"

"Well, that's.... What sort of a character."  Kelley stopped to consider.  "I think he is pretty well described in a brochure that Roddenberry put out in the early part of the first season.  He's a future-day Mencken, very out-spoken, and says what he thinks.  I picture him as a dedicated physician, who came aboard for some reason that hasn't been explained quite clearly -- why he came aboard in the first place -- perhaps from some deep hurt in his background.  But he somehow rather hates to see all of the computerized happenings going on about him.  I think that he feels the search for true adventure in medicine is slowly going as compared to... as opposed to, what's taking place through computers and so forth.  I have..." he hesitated.  "I know what McCoy is in my mind, and.... Right now it seems kind of hazy to me.  I guess maybe because I just got through doing a scene down there."

He turned to the folder that held his copy of the script and dug into it to take out the "brochure" on McCoy he had mentioned.  "I added a few notes that I haven't looked at in a couple of years, things that Walter Lippman said about Mencken -- he denounces life and yet makes you want to live, a reactionary in almost everything except affairs of health and matters of beauty."  Kelley looked over his notes.  "Somewhere here there's a beautiful, terrific phrase that Mencken said to someone..."  He found it. "'If after I depart this vale you ever remember me and have thought to please my ghost, forgive some sinner, and wink your eye at some homely girl.'  I keep this brochure stuck down here in the script because every now and then I refer to it.  To try to keep my eye on the road, you know."

"This is a new kind of show for you to do, isn't it?  You haven't done much fantasy or science fiction before?"

"No," he said, "I was never a science fiction buff, although one of my very favorite shows was The Twilight Zone.  I was an avid fan of that show and wanted very badly to do that show.  But at the time it seemed that I couldn't connect with it.  I had seen some science fiction on the screen, and what I saw I liked, but I just never, you know, really got with it.  I still do not read science fiction.  I had been mostly involved in westerns, not as a choice, but something I fell into, in playing 'heavies.'  It was making me a very comfortable living, and I had just about figured, 'Well, this is the way I'm going to go. You've got to be paid, and the phone is ringing occasionally, and I'm making a pretty decent living.'  And I couldn't knock it.  Then I did a picture with Bette Davis and Susan Hayward called Where Love Has Gone.  It was not considered a good film, but it for some reason did a lot for me.  It got me out of the 'heavy' thing.  It was the first thing I had done that was not a western in a long time.  But I was not born a cowboy!"

He went on, "My being in this show is a strange situation in itself.  I have made only two television pilots.  I've been in this business 21, 22 years, and in all my years I've only made two television pilots where I would have been a running character.  Both of those pilots were for Gene Roddenberry.  The first was 333 Montgomery, in which I portrayed Jake Ehrlich, the criminal lawyer, and in which I was to star.  That didn't sell.  Then I was turned down for Star Trek.  Roddenberry wanted me, but somebody else didn't, and so I was turned down -- Gene was disappointed, and so was I -- for the doctor role.  So they hired John Hoyt.  Later, Gene did another pilot, Police Story, and he called me in again for that.  And after I had done Police Story, why, they decided that I should really play the doctor on this show!  This is the first series I've ever done.  It's a new experience for a free-lance actor."

"Quite a different pace, I suppose, much heavier," I said.

"Yes, it is.  It's very tiring.  It's rewarding in many ways, but it's an exhausting routine.  Matter of fact, we're all kind of run-down."  He looked ruefully at his cigarette.  "Probably smoke too much.  I know that Bill is weary, and Leonard, and so am I.  The pace kind of catches up with you, but then a week goes by, and you kind of get your second wind.  I can't help but believe that this is a more difficult show to do than, let's say, a western or a dragnet or something of that nature.  We're vitally concerned, all three of us are, with this show, the scripts -- even after we get the script we're concerned.  It may reflect sometimes as an antagonism, but it isn't antagonism, it's simply wanting it to be right, and as a result we sometimes have to have a few fights, you know, to get it that way."

"I've noticed changed between even the final script and the show," I commented, "often very small changes, but they often make a great improvement."

"That's right," he said, nodding.

"There was one show where you were in the 1930's, and McCoy was coming out from under the influence of a drug, but still groggy.  In the script he falls asleep saying to a girl, 'Quite all right, I don't believe in you either.'  But the way it came out was, 'Quite all right, my dear, I don't believe in you either.'  Which sort of captured his gentleness and gallantry."

"Right," said Kelley.  "That was 'City of the Edge of Forever,' a Harlan Ellison story.  I thought that was one of the better shows that we did.  We've done a number, but I think that was one of my favorites.  And I liked 'Metamorphosis,' and I thought 'Miri' was a good show."

I had disliked "Metamorphosis" and was surprised at his including it.  I said cautiously, "Those all had pretty good roles for McCoy.  Do you think that's one reason you remember them?"

"It may be," he began, thinking the question over.  He stopped and shook his head.  "No, those were my favorites.  You couldn't say McCoy was featured in any of them.  I have never had more to do on a show than Bill or Leonard.  I have a pretty good role on this show, but McCoy has only been really featured one time -- and not really then.  That was in a show I can't even recall the title of. ["The Man Trap"]  It was not a very good show.  It led off the first season of the first year.  There was another one, 'Tomorrow is Yesterday' -- I had hardly anything to do in it -- a Dorothy Fontana script.  I was very light in it, but I thought it was one of the best."

Since learning how often Kelley had fought at the OK Corral, I had been wondering how he felt when Star Trek took him there.  "Were you startled when you first saw the script for 'Spectre of the Gun'?"

"Yes.  It's the third time I've done it.  I did it on You Are There, and I played Ike Clanton.  Hal Wallis saw me in it, and he was going to make the movie, so he called me and wanted me to do Ike Clanton in the movie, but I was committed to another picture, Tension at Table Rock, so I lost the role.  After I completed the film, they were still in production, and Wallis called and asked me to come along as Morgan Earp.  Then when I saw this script I rolled on the floor, and I thought 'My god, I'm doing it again in space!'  I called somebody, and I said, 'The only thing left is to do it as a musical.'  In this I was one of the.... There're a couple of brothers... McClowery brothers.  Leonard was one of the brothers, and I was the other.  It was a situation that could have been funny, but nothing was ever done about it.  It didn't emphasize that in that time Spock and McCoy were brothers, but it struck me as funny."

"What sort of roles would you like to do in the future, now that Star Trek has broken your image as a western heavy?" I asked.  "Would you like to do stage plays, for example -- you haven't done much stage work, have you?"

"Well, I started in live theater, in Long Beach, when I first came to live here," Kelley said.  "I had about eight years of stage work, five in Long Beach and three in New York.  At the same time, in New York, I was doing live tv.  I went there hoping to get to do a Broadway show.  I didn't -- it was nothing but heartbreak.  But I would still like to do a Broadway show.  It's a hunger, almost a lust for the theater.  I guess because I started there.  Each hiatus I've considered going out on tour with a show, though I haven't done it yet.  When this series ends, I think I'll take a fling at motion pictures.  But as far as what sort of role it would be.... I just don't know.  I've been every type of role from psychopath to psychologist, to hick-farmer, and so on.  I don't expect to be a leading man.  I don't picture myself as such.  I suppose it would be a character role.  I wouldn't object to doing a heavy again.  You know, I came along with guys like Jimmy Coburn, Lee Marvin -- we're all heavies.  Suddenly it all changed.  People noticed heavies do well in series, in sympathetic roles."

"Do you keep up with things like movies, plays, other tv shows?"

"I've been very negligent," he said.  "I used to, but now there are movies I haven't seen you wouldn't believe!  I usually have to get up at five, and if you go to bed at 12:30 or so you're not too sharp the next day.  But I'll have to.  Hit matinees or something."

"Do you watch your own show?"

"Yes, usually."

"Do you find it's helpful to you as an actor?"

"I guess it is," he said.  "I don't go to the dailies. You just see a lot of work-prints, and you don't know what it'll be like put together.  A lot of actors go.  But I don't.  None of us on this show do.  You know, there's one thing about re-runs -- I can relax and enjoy it as part of the audience.  'Gee, that wasn't such a bad show,' I sometimes realize.  The first time through I watch as an actor.  I see myself making mistakes I'm not aware of when we're on the set."

"Could you give me an example?"

"Well, like 'City' -- I fall on the needle, and Kirk kneels down, and I go into a madman's yell.  On stage it was good.  I thought I was yelling at the top of my range.  But on screen it just didn't have -- it didn't project the sort of horrible fear it was supposed to."

A crewman -- from the show, not the ship -- came in.  "You're needed for a lineup," he said.

DeForest Kelley said goodbye, and Dr. McCoy went back to the Enterprise.

-----

Just Ask

How long does it take to film an average episode of Star Trek?  (Linda K. Williams and Helen Strahl)    Six working days, or a bit over

How far in advance are they filmed, and are they filmed in the order shown?  (Mary Redding)    Filming for this fall began in May.  They are not shown in the same order.  For example, the pilot film, "Where No Man Has Gone Before," was not the first episode broadcast.

Will Star Trek have any new stars this year?  (Tony Boatright)    No.  Instead, the characters of the regulars will be developed in more detail.

How is the "star date" determined?  (Michael Hoy)    Randomly, within the format of four digits, a decimal point, and one digit more.  Because the order in which episodes are to be shown is not set until after they are filmed, it would be impossible to set up an internally consistent progression of dates.  Within a single script, the digits after the decimal measure tenths of a day and can change consistently.  In terms of the Star Trek universe, stardates are based on a mathematical formula which varies depending on location in the galaxy, velocity of travel, and other factors.

Here’s an interview with De from 1968 (during the filming of “The Empath”) from a fanzine called “Inside Star Trek”.

“Inside Star Trek” was the first official Star Trek fanzine, distributed through the first officially authorized Star Trek fan club.

The zine was published from 1968-1969 (during filming of the third and final season of the original series) and then again from 1976-1979 (during pre-production until Star Trek: The Motion Picture was released).

The artwork was a bit cheesy, but every issue featured behind the scenes info and an interview with one of the cast or production team (usually on set during a break in filming).

[jananakookie]

Beauty | kth - Chapter 6.1

Pairing: Taehyung x OC (Reader) , slight Jimin x OC

Genre/Tags: Strangers to Lovers, Idiots to lovers (kinda), single dad; humor (-ish?), slow burn, angst, fluff, smut

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, mentions of heartbreak and breakups, angst

Word count: 11k

Series summary: Taehyung knows what beauty is. He sees it every day.

You feel like you haven’t seen real beauty in a while but you think you remember what it looked like.

Or maybe you both have no idea?

A/N: Hello everyone! This is half of Chapter 6. I‘m so sorry for the delay. Hopefully you‘ll like it. Fell free to let me know ☺️ And sorry for any errors 😅

Previous Chapter / Chapter List / Next Chapter

Chapter 6.1

When you were younger, there has barely been a time where you didn’t feel absolutely comfortable in Busan. There was no reason for you to ever want to leave your hometown because everything you needed and everything you wanted was here which at the time was your family, a nice job and especially Park Jimin.

Park Jimin.

The truth is, there was one time in your life where you actually did consider leaving Busan. You got a job offer and it was (ironically) in no other place than Seoul. It never came to it, however, because you declined after only a few days of thinking about it. The job description was really good, you always wanted to visit Seoul but never got the chance to actually go, and last but not least, you finally had the chance to do something outside of your comfort zone.

But you didn’t go.

You didn’t go merely because of one single reason and it was yet again no other than Park Jimin.

It wasn’t his fault though. He never would’ve hindered you from leaving. Hell, he would’ve made you go if he knew about it. He would’ve tried day and night for weeks on end to change your mind and take your chance if he thought it would’ve changed anything. Because that’s just who Park Jimin is. He’s outgoing, fun, curious to try new things, and never ever afraid to do anything but overall, he’s caring. He’s charming and caring and so ridiculously warm and kind that you just couldn’t risk losing him for a job. And that’s exactly why you didn’t tell him. You kept it a secret from him and anybody who could’ve come close to telling him and in the end, you declined the job offer before you could somehow change your mind.

And oh, he would’ve been so disappointed. He’d still be disappointed today if he’d ever find out. You’re absolutely sure about that.

And yeah… things went to complete shit not even two years later but do you really regret making that decision? You should — that much is clear. You threw a possible career away for a guy. A guy who probably didn’t even deserve it. Or did he? The pure fact that you actually still have these thoughts gives you a headache.

You squint your eyes together and shake your head a little, hoping it would drive the thoughts out of your head but it does close to nothing. The only thing it does is making your mother look at you with a worried expression and even if your back is turned to her, you can literally feel her gaze piercing through the back of your head.

Maybe coming back so soon wasn’t a good idea after all.

“Darling, are you okay?“ And there it is, that motherly tone in her voice that makes you feel like nothing’s changed. And it hasn’t. Nothing has changed in all these months you’ve been gone now. Everyone can still see it and how fucking pathetic is that?

“I’m great, Mum. I’m just washing the dishes real quick.“ You shrug, trying to underline your voice with a happy tone in order for her to not get any more suspicious.

Yeah… because when does that ever help when it comes to mothers and their weird sixth sense of knowing their kid’s actual feelings.

You again don’t even need to turn around to guess the look on your Mum’s face. “You didn’t need to do that, ___ I’m perfectly capable of doing that on my own.“ She scolds you.

“And if I actually did that, what would be the reason for me to be here?“ You ask her, trying to not get irritated when she grabs a towel and starts drying the dishes you just washed.

“I don’t know, I never actually told you to come here and keep the house clean, did I?“ You can hear the teasing tone in her voice and therefore know she’s not serious but it bugs you that she won’t accept your help.

“I wanted to be a good daughter, help you and Dad out after his surgery but then I come here and what do I see? You manage everything on your own just fine, Dad can’t stand to stay at home for a single week and is already back at work, I mean—“ You look at your Mother for a second to give her a puzzled look which makes her laugh, “what is he even doing at a car repair shop with just one functioning arm right now?“ You both chuckle at that because your Dad is just a hopeless case at this point.

“You know your Dad. I guess he’s probably just walking around, yelling at Seojun and Hobi or whatever.“ You know your mother is joking but you also don’t think that’s very far from the truth.

You don’t say much after that, simply enjoying your Mother’s presence with you because it’s been quite a while since you’ve been home and have seen your parents. But you can sense that your Mother is not done yet, judging by the looks she gives you every now and then. When you finally have enough of that little cat and mouse game, you simply raise a brow at her, offering her a look that tells her to spit it out, whatever it is that’s on her mind right now — even if you don’t know if you want to hear it.

“Why don’t you go out a little? Meet up with some of your friends.“ She then suggests making you sigh quietly.

“I don’t have any friends here, Mum. Who am I supposed to meet?“ You try to sound unbothered, but you can't hide the disappointment that actually resides within you as well as you would like. Just a simple look at your Mum gives you an idea of how good your acting skills are.

“Why do you say that?“ A look of sadness overcomes your mother’s face and you instantly feel bad. You don’t want her to feel sorry for you. You’re not 8 years old anymore, crying because the other kids don’t want to play with you. You’re an adult now, your problems are now much more complex than that and you should be able to solve them on your own not bother your Mum with them.

“It’s the truth.“ You simply shrug.

“What about Hobi then? You two always got along well. I’m sure he’d actually love to catch up with you.“ You know she means well but you really don’t want to have the conversation now and you wish she’d just accept that you don’t want to meet up with anyone.

Especially not his best friend.

“Mum, Hoseok is not my friend and I can promise you, that he doesn’t care at all about catching up with me.“ That definitely came out much more snappy than you intended for it to be and you feel bad about it as soon as those words leave your mouth. At the end of the day, she’s your Mum and she obviously just wants the best for you. Not to forget that she definitely notices how there’s a lot of unfinished business between you and your hometown and all of it comes bubbling up now that you’re here again.

But at the same time, you’re dealing with a lot of stuff here and it’s not easy for you to just talk about it like that.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to snap at you.“ You sigh, drying your hands when the dishes are done.

Your Mum simply waves it off and smiles at you, “Hobi asks about you all the time, you know? He keeps asking about how you are and when you’re coming back.“ She says, looking very pleased with him for some reason. “Your Father is almost annoyed by his constant questions about you.“ She laughs but the only thing you can manage is a grim smile.

“Hoseok never once tried to reach out to me after what happened.“ You decide to say. “If he’s asking about me now, it’s probably only because Jimin tells him to.“

At least that’s the only reason you can think of. He didn’t care one bit about your well-being when you really needed a friend so why would he possibly decide to care now?

“I don’t believe that, ___. Hobi isn’t like that. If he honestly never reached out it had to have a different reason than just him not caring about you because I know for a fact, that he does.“ She argues, a deep frown appearing on her forehead. “Who knows, maybe Jimin had something to do with it.“ She then adds, making your blood boil instantly.

“Mum, please stop. Jimin wouldn’t do that.“ This is the moment where your conversation better ends because you’ve talked about that quite a lot already and you don’t feel like repeating everything that’s already been said before.

Sadly your Mother doesn’t seem to approve.

She scoffs, making you look at her with a questioning look but you’re actually quite sure what to expect already, “I can’t believe that after everything, you’re still standing up for him. Why?“

You struggle for a little while to find the right answer. Actually, you do know the right answer, you just don’t know if you want to say it out loud. But judging by your Mum’s sad eyes, intently watching your every move, she already knows anyway.

“Because I love him.“ You shrug. It’s been a while since you admit it to anyone — especially yourself and it makes it even harder for these desperate words to come out of your mouth in a low whisper.

Your Mum looks like she’s about to wrap you in a blanket and feed you with homemade cookies, while she’s watching you carefully. “Honey, loving someone doesn’t mean you have to excuse and accept everything they do. Especially if it’s something that hurt you.“ She says making use of that goddamn motherly tone in her voice again which actually threatens to make a few tears escape your eyes.

“There’s way more to our story than simply him hurting me though.“ You try to argue, still not done talking. You just don’t want to end it on this note. You so badly want to hold on to the thought of him still being the good guy you know him as. Because he doesn’t deserve all the hate your family is giving him. You do understand that they simply want to protect you but at the end of the day, this is between him and you. Only him and you.

“I don’t want you guys to hate him.“ You admit.

Your mother sighs, smiling at you. “___, we don’t hate him.“ She says. You don’t know if you should believe her just like that because judging by everything that has been said since you and Jimin broke up, it surely doesn’t seem like it. Your Mum actually seems to think about her answer as well, cringing a little. “Well, I don’t hate him at least. Your Father… That’s a different story.“ She smiles awkwardly.

You actually can’t help but crack a small smile at her confession. It’s not like you haven’t noticed before but it’s still funny.

“Anyway, you know we always loved Jimin with our whole hearts. He was a part of this family for so long that we would’ve never guessed that—“ She cuts herself off, watching you as if to make sure that it’s okay for her to say what she wants to say. You actually want— no you need to hear it. Even if it hurts.

“Well, we thought you guys were forever.“ She quietly says.

“Yeah… You and me both, Mum.“ You sigh.

“We know that what happened between you two is not exactly our business but you’re still our daughter… And it’s only natural for us to feel with you when you can barely get out of bed for several weeks on end.“ The look she gives you is still the same she gave you when you had your first heartbreak and for some reason, it gives you a sense of trust and comfort.

“You don’t have to worry. I’m fine, really.“ You try o smile but it actually comes off as some kind of grimace and your Mum, of course, sees right through you.

“You moved cities, ___.“ She frowns. “And you didn’t dare to come back for almost seven months.“ She states, crossing her arms in front of her chest which makes her look a lot more serious than she should be right now.

Regretting your little white lie you sigh and try to rephrase what you actually should’ve said. “I mean… I’m not exactly there yet but it will be okay. I actually made some great friends in Seoul and I feel pretty alright now.“ Your Mum’s eyes instantly show a little glint as soon as you say that you found friends, knowing it was never your biggest quality.

That’s just another reason why your parents loved Jimin so much. He made you get out of your shell and small comfort zone, meet new people, talk to strangers and maybe even befriend them and you liked that as well. Since he’s been gone though, you didn’t just get back to your old routine. You did something for yourself and moved to Seoul. On your own. And you talked to people and befriended them. On your fucking own.

You don’t need Park Jimin for shit.

And yeah, you gotta admit it feels amazing to be able to say that.

“You made friends?“ Seeing you nod your head, she smiles. “I’m very happy to hear that, ___.“

“Mum, don’t talk to me like I’m in first grade and just made my first friend.“ You laugh, trying to loosen up the situation.

“I’m just happy you’re happy.“ She shrugs. “Letting you go to a new city all on your own, without a job or a place to stay was risky enough. It’s good you found friends who can look after you from time to time when we can’t.“ She explains.

You never really thought of that actually. It couldn’t have been easy for your parents to just let you go like that after weeks of staying in bed, barely eating, and not wanting to talk to anyone you simply decided one day to just go and leave everything behind like that. You did it for yourself and didn’t think of anyone else and it was the right decision, it was what you had to do at the time but you kinda feel sad for your parents now. They must’ve been worried about you and you let half a year pass before you showed your face in Busan again.

“You don’t have to be worried Mum. I’m totally fine on my own, I promise you that.“ This time there’s an honest smile on your lips and you don’t have to feel any shame wearing it. “But yeah, I think I found great people to surround myself with. I feel very comfortable around them.“ You say, smiling to yourself as you think of the people back home.

Home. That’s what Seoul is now, huh?

Even if you love your parents very much and missed them dearly, you can’t wait to get back home soon. It really doesn’t look like your parents need your help that much and you have to get back to work anyway.

The job at the flower shop is definitely not what you imagined in your younger years but you love it very much. It’s fun and it’s just a beautiful job overall.

The ultimate reason you can’t wait to get back though, are the people. You didn’t think you’d miss all of them so much that it would take such a toll on you but they at least seem to miss you too, seeing as all of them text you every now and then and Taehyung and Hyejin never miss a night to call you before Hyejin’s bedtime. Taehyung says it’s part of her bedtime routine now and she simply refuses to sleep until she at least talked to you. It warms your heart to no end.

Taehyung always claims that Hyejin is the one who insists on calling, but every night after she finally wished you a good night and goes to bed, he is usually in no hurry to end the conversation. Not that you’d complain though, you enjoy talking to him just as much. His voice alone can calm your nerves in an instant. You guess it must’ve something to do with the way he speaks. Always in a calm and collected, deep voice, never in a hurry. And he definitely has a way with words too…

“So… Given that you already found friends…“ Your Mum starts, making you halt for a second because that tone never means anything good, “Are you maybe thinking about dating again?“

You don’t even know what to say, you’re that shocked. If you were drinking something right now, you’d probably spit it out. Is that really what she’s excited about? “Mum, I think after everything I just told you, I made it very clear that I’m not thinking about that yet, didn’t I?“ You ask, looking at her skeptically.

“Don’t get so offensive, I was just asking.“ Your Mum chuckles.

“Yeah, I just think it’s obvious that I’m not quite there yet.“ You roll your eyes and play with a piece of lint on the countertop that suddenly seems incredibly interesting. Talking about things regarding your love life has never been a comfortable topic for you to share with your parents and you aren’t very interested in talking about that with your Mother right this moment.

You are lucky, however, when your Mother shorty after explains that she has to run some errands and has to leave you alone for a little while. You are glad that you were able to avoid this conversation, at least for the time being, and so you devote yourself to some tasks in the house that you consider important.

This is exactly what Taehyung feared since the moment he realized that all of them could no longer be imagined without you. You are already indispensable. deeply anchored in the little heart of the girl who for days has only been in a bad mood and cranky because she misses you so much. And he misses you too because even if you did it so sneakily that he hardly noticed, you gave him more support than he could have ever imagined.

How on earth didn’t he notice? It’s not like he hasn’t been alone with Hyejin for four years and was totally fine with it but then you come along and suddenly he’s a total mess as soon as he’s alone with his own daughter. Not to be rude… but he blames it on you. You are way too cordial and that spoiled her.

Like how she’s currently throwing a tantrum because he apparently doesn’t do her hair good enough.

“Ouch Daddy, no!!“ She cries, “That’s not how ___ does it. I look like a boy! And it hurts!“

Taehyung is close to losing his last nerves but he tries to stay calm for Hyejin’s sake. “What are you talking about? You don’t look like a boy, you look like the beautiful little girl that you are.“ He argues, combing her hair a little more to the back so he can fasten the hair tie.

“No! I don’t want to look like that, Daddy! ___ always braids my hair and then I look like a princess!“ She whines.

Taehyung sighs loudly, letting her hair fall down again. “Hyejin, I’m not ___. I don’t know how to braid your hair so you look like a princess. You already look like a beautiful princess to me anyway.“

“But I want my hair the way ___ does it.“ She stubbornly groans.

“Okay, in that case you’ll just have to wait until she comes back.“ Taehyung then says, absolutely done with trying to do her hair.

“Daddy, can you call her and tell her to come back?“ Hyejin looks at him with her big puppy eyes that usually get her almost everything she wants but not this time.

“Hyejin, I can’t just call her and tell her to come back home. She’s with her family, darling.“ His voice is getting softer as soon as he sees the big disappointment in her eyes. He doesn’t want her to start crying again.

“Aren’t we her family too?“ She asks him in a quiet voice.

Taehyung doesn’t know what to say to that. How do you even explain that to a four-year-old? Of course, she somehow is a part of the family but… also not like that.

“Yeah, we are.“ He says, “But we kept her to ourselves for quite some time now and now we have to let her spend some time with her other family as well, okay?“ He tries to explain. He doesn’t think you’d have something against him telling her that. At the end of the day, you spend close to every day together, you almost always eat together and you sometimes even put her to sleep so yeah, of course, it looks like that to a child.

The truth is, Hyejin isn’t the only one who feels like someone is missing; he misses you too. After only a couple of days — four days and 13 hours to be exact but who’s counting, right? — it feels like you’ve been gone for weeks on end. Hyejin is bored, he’s absolutely overwhelmed and Jungkook is even more annoying because according to him he, “lost the one and only person, who really listens and cares“, and to be fair, he might be quite right with that.

“Do you think she misses us too, Daddy?“ Hyejin asks, getting him out of his head.

Taehyung smiles, patting her head a little to annoy her, “Of course she does. She can’t wait to see you again in person, she tells me every night after you went to bed.“ He honestly says. He enjoys your nightly talks a lot and it’s what gets him through the stressful time these days because you somehow manage to lift his mood up again by simply smiling through the phone screen.

Hyejin gasps and smiles brightly. “So that means she probably comes back sooner.“ She reasons, making Taehyung laugh in the process.

“Sure, darling. Maybe it means she’ll come back even sooner.“ He nods. He hopes it does. He doesn’t want to be disrespectful towards your parents because you went to see them because your Dad isn’t well and your parents need your help, he gets it. But that doesn’t mean he and Hyejin need you any less. At least emotionally.

Ugh, he can’t believe it, he sounds like a selfish wimp now. He can’t control your time and he doesn’t want to either, of course. It’s just incredible how all of this seems so much easier to handle when you’re around and he knows how fucking ridiculous that sounds when he just started to get to know you just over a month ago.

He can’t stress it enough, seeing and experiencing how essential you have become in such a short time scares the shit out of him. When he himself already feels that way, he doesn’t want to imagine how serious it has to be for Hyejin.

Taehyung carefully combs Hyejin’s long and dark locks as he simply drowns himself in his thoughts. They have come to the conclusion that it probably makes a lot more sense if they leave Hyejin's hair open and wait for you to come back to braid it in a few days because Taehyung is obviously a hopeless case when it comes to princess-like hairstyles.

“Alright you’re all set, honey.“ He says after a few minutes of mindlessly brushing through her hair.

“Thank you, Daddy.“ Hyejin grins, looking at herself in the mirror. “Do you think uncle Namjoon wants to play karaoke with me? ___ and I always play karaoke on Mondays.“ She looks at her father expectantly and frowns when she only sees him laugh at her.

“Stop comparing us all to ___, Hyejin. I know you miss her but we all took care of you for the past four years, be a little thankful, will you?“ He jokes, not expecting her to understand what he means. “And for the record, today is Friday.“ He adds.

Hyejin only groans and shrugs, “okay, I’ll just ask him if we can go buy an ice cream then because Friday is ice cream day.“ She says unimpressed as if she didn’t even hear anything he said before.

Taehyung simply ignores it, knowing he won’t get her to change her mind anyway and it’s not like it’s a big deal. You simply just took his place of being her hero and favorite person in just a span of four weeks. He isn’t mad of course, he knows Hyejin still loves him and the guys just as much it’s just that she can relate and compare a lot more to you. It’s not something to be mad or jealous of, no. On the contrary, he is incredibly happy about it. Besides him and his friends, it’s you what she needs.

Suddenly the doorbell rings, which can only mean that Namjoon is there to pick up Hyejin because Taehyung has to go to work right away. Hyejin runs straight away with her typical “I'll open up!”, which gives him time to quickly pack her little backpack with snacks that he prepared for her the night before. Not that he had to, Namjoon will definitely feed her something but it’s always good to have some snacks ready for when she gets cranky or moody and in those last couple of days, that’s almost her everyday mood.

When he gets to the living room, Namjoon is already standing there with Hyejin and is already giving her a big hug with a huge smile on his face. The smile turns into a grimace though, when he looks into Taehyung’s tired eyes.

“Damn bro, what happened to you? Haven’t slept for a week?“ He jokes while sitting Hyejin back on her two feet. The girl instantly runs away, probably back into her room to play or something.

Taehyung gives Namjoon a look that says it all before he plants himself on the couch and groans. “Joon, help me. I’m dying.“ He whines like a child. “I swear I love my daughter but she. is. killing me.“

Namjoon watches his best friend and feels a little bad. He knew Taehyung had a lot on his plate this week, with you being gone and his boss stressing about… well, anything as always, and he regrets not coming by more often to help every now and then but he himself had a lot to do and simply didn’t find the time.

“I don’t know man, I don’t want to complain so much. She’s my daughter and I love spending time with her but she is a handful!“ He continues. “Literally everything I do is wrong. I make her a bowl of fruits, ___ cuts them better. I make her hair, ___ braids it better. I buy her ice cream, sorry Daddy, it tastes better when ___ buys it. Literally what on earth!“ He throws his arms up and looks at Namjoon as if he’s going crazy, making the older man laugh.

“Face it, buddy. She gave the crown to someone else a long time ago.“ Namjoon laughs, looking at Taehyung who surprisingly smiles as well.

“Yeah. She definitely left an influence on her.“ Taehyung smiles. “She just misses her a lot, who could blame her? She spent almost every day with her for the last four to five weeks. She’s no longer used to us pretending to know what we’re doing after she actually met someone who knows exactly what she’s doing.“ He laughs, making Namjoon join in approvingly.

“Seems to me like she’s not the only one who misses her, huh?“ He teases, wiggling his eyebrows. He actually wanted to poke fun at Taehyung but he didn’t expect him to actually agree.

“I swear, I’ll tie her up and never let her leave again as soon as she comes back.“ Taehyung says, not thinking about what he just said but instantly regrets it, as soon as Jungkook comes through the door with a cheeky grin.

“Sounds kinky, I’m in!“ He yells, grinning from ear to ear teasingly as he looks from Taehyung to Namjoon. The oldest man just laughs while Taehyung simply rolls his eyes.

“You know exactly what I mean.“

“I do and Joon knows it too and I thiiiink, deep inside you, you know it as well.“ Jungkook winks, obviously not talking about the same thing Taehyung wanted to hint at.

“Whatever you say.“ Done with the conversation, Taehyung turns his back to Jungkook and rather talks to Namjoon to clear up the details of the day and when he can bring Hyejin back.

Speaking of Hyejin, she joins them soon after, already wearing her jacket, and read to go.

“Wait, let me take a photo of you, Hyejin. We can send it to ___ I bet she’ll be happy about it!“ Taehyung quickly stops her before she can leave with Namjoon.

Hyejin instantly smiles and poses, throwing a little peace sign with her fingers as soon as Taehyung has his phone in his hand and takes a picture of her. He then looks at it and smiles, probably satisfied with how it turned out. “Great, she’ll love it!“ He grins. “I’ll send it to her as soon as I’m at work because I’m actually running late again.“ He says the second he sees the time on his phone.

“Are you serious?“ Jungkook laughs, making Taehyung frown in the process.

“What?“ He asks him seemingly confused but when he looks at Namjoon, he is also grinning with a knowing look on his face.

“You seriously just took a picture of Hyejin to send it to ___ like she’s your wife or something.“

Taehyung frowns, not seeing the problem with a simple photo. “___ says she likes it when I send her photos of Hyejin because she misses her as well. Why is that weird?“ He asks.

“Oh my god.“Jungkook groans. “You guys really are something.“ He rolls his eyes but doesn’t elaborate any further before he simply walks away into his room, leaving Taehyung confused and without an answer.

Namjoon seems to know what Jungkook means by his cryptic speech but doesn’t look like he wants to explain either, grabbing Hyejin by her hand and mutters a simple, “You’ll probably see it on your own when the time is right.“

With that being said, Taehyung is left alone, still confused but he doesn’t have the time to think about it right now because he really has to get to work. The last thing he needs today is getting yelled at by his tiny boss and nearly die while suppressing a laugh.

Standing in front of the huge garage, you nervously look around in hopes of seeing your Dad before anyone else — someone in particular — sees you but it doesn’t look like he’s around right now and to get to his office, you have to pass by all the cars and other workers who are doing their job right now. As always, your Mother got her way and ordered you to bring some homemade snacks to your Father's car repair shop.

Apparently, she does that every Friday but you know she only needed a reason to get you to come here so you can see and talk to Hoseok.

The thing is though — you don’t want to. And you thought you made that very clear but when did your mother ever care about that? You’re just way too easily persuaded.

A tray full of baked goods in your hand, you wander around the garage, trying to remember where your Dad’s office was again. Hey, it’s been a minute since you’ve actually been here. Why would you spend your time in a smelly, oily garage anyway?

Just when you think you remember your way around, a voice behind you rings out, “Hey! I’m sorry but I’m afraid you’re not allowed to be here. It can be dangerous in here for someone who doesn’t work here.“

You don’t even need to turn around to see who it is because you recognize his voice right away. It was precisely this encounter that you dreaded but when you whip around anyway, your counterpart is the one who actually looks like he’s just seen a ghost.

Not wanting to make the situation even more awkward, you decide to simply offer him a smile that doesn’t show how uncomfortable you really are. “Hey, Hobi.“ You simply greet him.

He just looks at you for a moment with eyes so big you’re afraid they’ll fall out. You take the time to look at him as well. He didn’t change much. In his working clothes, consisting of a simple white tank top and dark blue jeans, both of which have seen better days and are full of oil stains just like him, he’s still the good-looking guy you’ve last seen almost seven months ago. “Holy shit, ___ is that really you?“ He gasps, making a little chuckle escape your lips.

“Yeah, I guess it really is me.“ You play along twirling your arms around in a joking manner.

The second you say that his face instantly lights up and before you can even take a breath he embraces you in a big hug. “Oh my god, I can’t believe you’re actually here!“ He exclaims, holding you so tight, you think you’ll pass out.

When he lets you go, he instantly looks a little embarrassed, “Sorry for jumping you like that, I’m sweaty and dirty.“ He smiles a little while looking down on himself. “I’m just so surprised you’re here, I haven’t seen you since… well.“ He cuts himself off, obviously not wanting to talk about Jimin and your break up and you’re very thankful he has the decency not to.

“Been a while, huh?“ You awkwardly shrug.

“Yes, I— Listen I wanted to talk to—“

“Hey, would you mind showing me where my Father’s office is? I actually just came here because my Mum made me bring you guys some snacks and then I have to leave again.“ You instantly cut him off, afraid of what he wants to say to you and not wanting to hear it.

He looks a little disappointed for a moment but forces a polite smile on his lips and nods before he guides you around. He must’ve understood that you didn’t want to talk about whatever he wanted to say because he doesn’t start again and simply stays silent beside you.

You feel a little bad because he probably really means well and wants to sort things out between you two but you just aren’t ready for that just yet and you have to take care of yourself now.

“Ah, I love Fridays for the one and only reason that your Mum always brings us something to eat. She is an angel, did you know that?“ He finally says, trying to start a conversation again.

Oh so your Mum wasn’t just looking for an excuse to bring you here, she actually bakes for them every Friday? Yes, that woman really is an angel, you have to admit.

“She’s great.“ You nod. Except when she forces me to do things I don’t want to do.

After a few minutes, you finally reach the office. “The door is closed.“ Hoseok says, making you look at him.

“Yeah, I’ll just open it then.“ You shrug, not knowing why he felt the need to state the obvious.

Hoseok shakes his head and points at the window so you can see your Dad. Looks like he’s on the phone or something. “Boss always has the door to his office open. It’s merely closed when he doesn’t want to be disturbed.“ He explains. “Sorry, guess we’ll just have to wait until he’s finished.“

You're not very happy about that but what else is there to do now? You don’t want to just barge in and make your Father angry and probably even yell an Hoseok for not holding you back.

“So… Your Dad told us you went to Seoul?“ He suddenly tries to speak up again after a minute of just watching you frown and throw glares at your Father, who hasn’t even noticed you yet and is still deep in conversation.

You stop staring and look at Hoseok instead. “Yes, I live there now.“ You answer shorty, not very interested in holding a conversation again.

“Cool.“ He says. “How’s living in Seoul for you?“ He further asks.

“It’s good really.“ You smile. “I found a very nice job at a flower shop and a beautiful small apartment right on top of it.“

“Wow, that sounds pretty great. I’m happy you seem to be content, ___.“ He says, honesty thick in his voice.

“Have you made any friends yet?“ Smiling down at you, you can see that he simply asks you all of these questions because he actually cares about your answers and is interested in your life. Not because he wants to gain information about you so he can go to Jimin and tell him something he shouldn’t be interested in anymore.

So you let a little loose and dare to get a bit more comfortable around him. “Yeah, I found a bunch of great friends actually.“ Just by simply thinking of them, you start to glow, your smile is growing bigger and your whole body language seems way more confident.

It all happens unconsciously but Hoseok notices it immediately and it warms something inside of him to see you so liberated after all these months of not having seen you and not having heard anything about you. The last time he saw you was the night you and Jimin broke up. He was with you two that night as were other people. He often thinks back to that day because he’ll never forget the way you looked. You looked so heartbroken and he wanted nothing more than going after you and be there for you; be the friend he should have been. He didn’t do that though. That night he chose to be that friend for Jimin.

“Have you met someone else?“ He suddenly hears himself asking before he can stop himself. He knows asking you that question is so uncalled for and definitely not his business but he wasn’t thinking for a mere second and what’s done is done now.

The look you give him is actually enough for him as an answer so he quickly apologizes and tries to explain himself. “It’s just that you suddenly had that specific glint in your eyes when you started talking about the people you met in Seoul. It kinda resembled the one you always had when you talked about Jimin.“

Your face falls as soon as he mentions him, who you didn’t want to talk about but you don’t want to let that get your mood down.

“I promise you, I didn’t ask because of him. I only asked because of that one reason and because I’m curious about you and your wellbeing, ___. I refuse to talk to him about you actually.“ He then admits, making you prick up your ears because let's be honest, you did not expect that.

“You don’t talk to him about me?“ You ask him, ignoring the other part of what he said.

Hoseok quickly shakes his head in a denying manner. “No, of course not! He still tries to though… He especially wanted to in the first few months but I always changed the topic as soon as he mentioned you.“ He looks at you with sad eyes, watching your every reaction. “He did ask a lot about you. He still does actually from time to time but I think he finally understands that he’s not getting any information out of me regarding you.“

You concentrate your eyes on one specific point on the floor so you don't have to look at him. You don’t want him to see what inner turmoil you are going through right now, all of it triggered by three little words: “He still does…“.

He still asks about you. Does that mean there’s a possibility he still cares?

No.

You refuse to let a few pointless words poison your mind. You’ve come so far, you won’t let him mess all of that up now. And that’s exactly why you hate how your heart just skipped a beat as soon as Hoseok told you that.

“___?“ Hoseok’s voice suddenly gets you out of your thoughts again and you look at him with big eyes. “I want to apologize to you if that’s alright.“

You look at him for a while, deciding what to say but Hoseok isn’t done yet. “I should’ve been there for you too but I only stayed with Jimin. I mean to be fair, he was very fucked too, you know? But I should’ve made sure both of you are okay and not just one of you.“ He sighs, lowering his head in shame.

“It’s okay Hoseok. He’s your best friend after all.“ You say, trying to sound as careless as you can sound even though thinking back on these days really hurts you.

“You were my friend too.“ He immediately says, looking at you. “I wanted to reach out, I really wanted to but I somehow never…I never did it.“

You cross your arms in front of your chest to appear bigger because now he’s really pissing you off. How dare he? “I was all on my own at that time, do you even realize that?“ You say, voice getting louder. “Jimin had tons of friends who were there for him but me? I only had you. Or at least I thought I did but you didn’t call me once, you never texted you never showed up, nothing.“ You finish your little speech with a shaky breath but you refuse to let anything on you crumble.

Hoseok looks very guilty but he doesn’t dare to take his eyes off of you. He feels like he deserves to see the broken look in your eyes. This way he knows exactly what he did — or rather didn’t do.

“I tried to.“ He says. “I tried calling you the day your Father announced that you’re leaving Busan. I couldn’t believe it and I wanted to talk to you, maybe even stop you from leaving all so suddenly but well… You blocked my number.“

You frown, “Yeah. I blocked your number, Hoseok. After weeks of not hearing anything from you, I didn’t think you’d care.“ You carelessly answer, not letting him act like the victim here.

He stays quiet after that.

“I want to know the reason for your absence because I know it’s not Jimin. Yeah, he does have his flaws but he’d never tell you to stay away from me, would he?“ You keep a cold stare because you just need to know the answer.

To your relief, Hoseok shakes his head almost instantly. “No, he didn’t.“ He confirms, making you breathe out again. You didn’t even notice you held your breath in anticipation. “Honestly, I was too scared to see you after I messed up that night you two broke up.“ He sighs, “I should’ve gone after you to see if you needed something. You’re right, Jimin had a bunch of other people who were there for him and you didn’t even have someone to drive you home.“ He states, making you cringe by the memories of that night.

You had to walk home at one a.m. alone because no one offered to drive you and you were way too proud at that moment to ask any of Jimin’s friends and way too scared to ask one of the strangers.

“For the record, Jimin absolutely freaked when he found out how you’ve gotten home. He was sure one of the guys would drive you because he asked them to. He didn’t know that none of them did.“ Hoseok then says with a much quieter voice. “I know that isn’t of any help but he did care. He still does.“ And again, that stupid feeling in your chest. “And I care too. I felt like shit after everything came crashing down but I was in a bind. My two best friends broke up and I didn’t know what to do so I did the wrong thing and stayed with the one I knew longer than with the one who needed me most.“ He says.

“It’s okay.“ You sigh. “Everything was shit back then, your absence was just the cherry on top of it all.“ Shrugging, you comb your finger through your hair. You throw a desperate glance at your Father but he’s still on the phone so you have no other choice than to dedicate your attention back to Hoseok again.

“I hope you can forgive me.“ Hoseok reluctantly stretches his arm out for you to shake his hand. Since he already hugged you at the beginning of your meeting, this seems rather strange but you take it anyway. You’re tired of holding grudges and you really missed him. He made mistakes and so did you but there’s no need for you to keep being angry about it. Someone once told you that being able to forgive is part of moving on and even if you aren’t ready to forgive Jimin yet, you think forgiving Hoseok might be a start.

“I can forgive you, Hobi.“ You say, Making him almost instantly smile brightly and if you are not mistaken, there are even a few tears in his eyes.

“Thank you, ___. I promise you I’ll make it up to you.“ He finally gives you a hug again — a much gentler one this time — before he lets you go and simply looks at you.

“Seriously though, you look amazing. Seoul is treating you quite well, isn’t it?“ He says, booping your nose like he always did in the past.

“What should I say, I keep myself busy. I love my job, I like being creative while decorating my apartment, even though it took me some time to get used to living alone, you know?“ You tell him. “During my first night there, I suddenly realized that I never actually lived a day of my life alone. First I lived with my parents and then I went straight to living with Jimin. Isn’t that crazy?“ You babble because of your excitement, you don’t even grow sad even though you mentioned him unconsciously.

“Well, in this matter you are one step ahead of him.“ He says, making you confused. “Jimin moved in with me like three months after the breakup. At this point, he had already spent almost every night with me anyway so it didn’t make a lot of difference.“ He shrugs.

“Oh? How come?“ You ask, a little surprised by the new information.

“Well at first he just couldn’t bear to be alone and deal with everything on his own. I guess it was hard for him to be without you in the place he shared with you for so many years.“ He starts, making you regret your question. You kinda hoped you weren’t the only one affected by the breakup but hearing how he also seemed to struggle quite a lot, makes your stomach drop. “But you know him, he’s a social butterfly.“ Hobi laughs slightly, ��He can’t be alone for long.“

You smile a little to yourself. Yes, that’s Jimin. Can’t be on his own for too long…

“Hey, ___?“ He suddenly asks, looking a little nervous again for whatever reason.

“Yeah?“ You say just as reluctantly.

“Can I tell him you’re in town?“ Well if that isn’t a surprise. “It’s okay if you don’t want that, I’ll keep it to myself then. It’s just that…“ He sighs, ruffling through his hair, “He really misses you. And I know he really wants to talk—“

“No.“

Your answer comes out like a pistol shot quick and deadly because as soon as it falls Hoseok is as silent as a grave.

“I’m sorry, Hobi but I don’t want that. I’m not ready for this confrontation and honestly? I don’t know if I’ll ever be.“ You say. “But no. I’m definitely not ready for it now.“ You emphasize again.

He immediately nods, looking at you with big eyes. “Yes, of course, I understand. I’m sorry I asked, that was pretty stupid of me and way too early.“ He apologizes.

“It’s okay, just please keep it to yourself. I’m leaving in a few days anyway.“ You make it clear, just to make sure that he won’t try anything. Even if you don’t think he would do that. There’s still always the possibility of him telling Jimin unintentionally.

Before he can say anything else to that, the door to your Father’s office is suddenly pushed open, revealing your Dad with a surprised look on his face. “Oh hey darling, I’m sorry. I had a call from a customer who insists on having his car repaired by tomorrow even though we have to empty the tank, repair the damage in the injection system and carry out an exhaust after-treatment, all while having to repair a bunch of other cars like what the hell?“ Your father suddenly breaks out into a fit of laughter, Hoseok following not long after meanwhile you just stand there without having any idea of what he just talked about.

“Oh boss, I would not be surprised if he wanted to have break fittings for half the price as well.“ Hoseok laughs loudly, wiping a tear from his eyes.

“You bet he did!“ Your father joins in.

You awkwardly laugh along, not really caring about their weird car jokes which you don’t get. “Alright then. So, I just came by to give you those snacks Mum apparently makes for you and the guys every Friday.“ You interrupt their laughter with a quiet plea to finally get out of here.

“Ah yes, your Mother is the best.“ Your Dad says, eyeing the bag you’re still holding in your hands.

You hand it over to him and smile, “So, I think I’m just gonna go home then. I’ve held Hobi long enough from work.“ You wink, already on your way out.

“Wait, you can eat with us if you want to.“ Your Dad calls out, holding you up. “I bet you and Hoseok have a lot to talk about and the other guys want to see you too!“

“Hobi and I already talked during those ten hours you were on the phone, Dad.“ You joke, looking at Hoseok who nods with his signature good-boy smile on his face which makes him seem oh so innocent.

“And that means…“ Your Dad throws a scrutinizing look between you and Hoseok, trying to see what the tension is like between you guys.

“We’re good, Dad.“ You say, rolling your eyes in a joking manner. “You and Mum can stop being concerned about me now and you can also stop trying to make excuses that would make me come here.“

Realizing you looked through their plans, your Father’s eyes grow bigger as he looks like a deer caught in headlights, “What?!“ He exclaims, pointing a finger at himself as if your assumption is totally out of this world.

“Don’t even try to deny it.“ You laugh. “It’s so obvious.“

“Well, at least it worked, didn’t it?“

“I’m very happy we got to sort things out, ___. Do you think we’ll meet again before you go back to Seoul?“ Hoseok interrupts.

You think about it for a moment. It would be nice to see him again and talk some more because there’s still a lot more you need to talk about. On the other side, you don't feel like your parents still need you immensely and you really miss your new home a lot more than you ever thought. Especially the people.

Taehyung sends you a photo this morning that showed Hyejin happily smiling at the camera, making a little peace sign and you instantly felt the need to call and talk to them. You really don’t think you can manage to stay away that much longer. It’s insane how quickly someone can grow on you and you’re not just talking about Hyejin.

“Sorry, I don’t think I’ll have the time to.“ You apologize, seeing his smile falter a little. “I’ll let you know next time I’m back, though. I promise!“

With these words, you say goodbye to them both and look for your way back outside.

Although you actually wanted to go back home to your Mum right away, you decide to go to another place before you return, even if it will take a few extra hours. It’s not like you don’t have time and have to be somewhere. Let's say it’s only for old time’s sake but you really felt the need to go there. So you actually find yourself driving down the busy Busan streets, heading to the one and only place you always hung out throughout your teenage and early adult years. That one significant spot at Ilgwang Beach.

You associate a lot with this place because it is the place where it all began and at the same time also the place where all of it ended. And if it isn’t clear by now “it“ defines you and Jimin’s relationship.

When you finally park your car and wander around the place that holds so many memories to you, it feels kinda strange. It takes you a few minutes to get to the spot you always hung out at and you’re surprised to see so many people here today.

It’s a crowded beach and today’s weather is pretty nice so it shouldn’t come as a surprise to you and it doesn’t matter anyway because even if there are many people around, it doesn’t make this place any less intimate to you.

Coming to Busan may have opened a few wounds, but coming back to this place is absolutely indescribable. All of this looks exactly the same since the last time you’ve seen it. Of course, it does, a beach just doesn’t change overnight but it’s not just the looks. It’s the atmosphere, the smell, some familiar faces, the sound of Jimin’s laugh—

Wait. What?

You whip around in absolute horror as you hear the familiar laugh that you could immediately recognize among millions. And indeed, it’s Jimin, standing only a few meters away from you, surrounded by some of your old friends and some people you’ve never seen before.

So he still comes here then.

Your thoughts are running wild. You want to run before he sees you but your feet just won’t move. It’s all too much at that moment. Just the mere sight of him lets you freeze like a statue in an instant.

He looks incredibly good. It looks like he dyed his hair dark again after preferring to dye it blonde for years. It’s probably not that deep but you still ask yourself why he did it. Maybe he needed a change as well? Or maybe he just didn’t like the color anymore, idiot.

You see some guy say something to him and he has to laugh again and even though you know you should actually leave, this prospect just keeps you from it. He doesn’t look like he always did while laughing. He looks happy and he seems to enjoy himself but there’s something that doesn’t look quite right and you think it might be his eyes. He usually pinched them completely shut whenever he had to laugh wholeheartedly. He doesn’t do it now.

Maybe whatever the guy said just wasn’t that funny. Or maybe he isn’t fully healed yet either.

Your emotions go from shocked to hurt, to even more shocked and finally angry because fucking hell. Why does he look so good while simply standing there with a beer can in his hand and a shirt that’s not even buttoned up?

Right when you can feel your legs again and start to slowly turn around, he seems to feel your eyes on him because that’s the exact moment he slightly turns his head and his eyes meet yours.

And after a few seconds — that feel like actual hours — of staring at each other in pure shock, you decide to be an awkward coward and make a run for it. You hastily push through all the people that stand in your way, afraid to not make it to your car in time. You don’t dare to look back once but you think you can hear him calling your name.

And you’re right. if you were to look back now, you would see how Jimin tries with all his might to push himself through the people as fast as possible in hopes of catching you before you can run away. He tries everything in his power to get you to stop. He pushes people away — maybe sometimes even a little too hard but he really couldn’t care less right now — and calls your name like a maniac, making everyone in his hear-sight look at him as if he’s crazy but he also doesn’t care about that. He has one goal and that’s to stop you before you leave his sight. Again.

However, you act like you’re running for your life, pretend you aren't meant by all the calls of your name and try to cheat your way into the thickest crowds of people so that he somehow loses you. It finally seems to work out when his voice begins to sound more distant and you allow yourself to breathe again.

When you reach your car and speed away, you risk a single look in the rearview mirror, seeing him reach the parking lot and hastily looking around for you. He probably doesn’t know your car though because your parents bought a new one since you broke up so he doesn’t connect the dots — to your luck.

The last thing you see before you force yourself to look away, is him kicking something that looks like a can with the most furious but also hurt expression you have ever seen on his face. It scratches something deep inside of you. You have never felt so horrible before.

As you drive away, you can’t think of anything else. It’s actually a miracle how you haven’t crashed yet since you’re on autopilot.

That was a close one. You definitely dodged a bullet there.

But even if he didn’t catch you, he still knows you’re here now and that’s what bothers you. All that’s left for you now is that Hoseok actually keeps quiet about it because you don’t think Jimin has the balls to come knocking on your parent’s door — your Dad would literally chase him with a baseball bat — but you also don’t want him to try and talk to you. And judging by the way he kept following you like a maniac, he definitely seeks a talk.

It is remarkable how well Taehyung managed to learn to read you in such a short time.

Since the second you picked up his call, he could see on your face that something wasn’t right. Although you try to wear a big smile as always, while Hyejin tells you about her day with her beloved uncle Joon, Taehyung can see clearly that there is something else behind your eyes. And that something is definitely bothering you.

You’re enjoying her stories; you laugh loudly when she tells you how Namjoon and her had a karaoke Monday on a Friday and how he was so bad at it, a neighbor actually knocked on his door to complain about the noise; you clap and compliment her when she sings you her new favorite song from some pop-star, whose name Taehyung didn't even bother to remember and you grin brightly when Hyejin starts to party hard after you told them both you’ll be back tomorrow in the afternoon. But your eyes don’t show the happiness they usually carry in them and Taehyung spends the entire 30 minutes of your conversation trying to figure out what might be going on. He doesn’t want to ask in from of Hyejin though. He figures you might not want to talk about it while she’s still around so he patiently waits until it’s her bedtime to talk to you.

“Alright, what’s up?“ He bombards you as soon as you exchanged your goodnight wishes with Hyejin and he left her room, closing the door and only leaving it a crack open.

He’s not surprised to see you react rather baffled to his straight-up question and he also expected you to downplay it and lo and behold that’s exactly what happens: “What are you talking about? Nothing’s up, I’m fine.“ You obviously lie, resulting in him raising a brow in question, piercing you with his dark eyes.

“___, don’t lie to me, please. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to but you can tell me the truth.“ Taehyung says with worry showing on his face.

When you see how serious he is, you feel ashamed of your lie and sigh slightly as you rub your eyes in exhaustion. “I know, sorry.“ You look down, “It’s just… It’s nothing serious, it’s silly. You’ll think I’m childish.“

Taehyung frowns after your confession, straightening up and looking at you intently. “Okay first of all, how can it be childish or silly when it’s obviously bothering you so much, you’re coming home tomorrow while you told us just yesterday you won’t come home until next week. Second of all, Jungkook came running to me yesterday full of joy just to show me a booger that he had just pulled out of his nose because it was, and I quote: “The biggest I've ever seen until now, Tae!” so if you want me to think you're childish, you've got to come up with something pretty good because you’re competing against a true king here.“

And for the first time today, he gets an overall real laugh out of you, making him prouder than it probably should and a huge grin appears on his face.

“Literally why is he like that?“ You ask rhetorically. “Ah man, I know I said it like a hundred times within the last week but I truly miss you guys.“ You sigh.

“We miss you too. All of us.“ Taehyung says becoming a little thoughtful. He can see you don’t feel as ashamed anymore but he still wishes he could be there with you right now. He can’t give you as much comfort as he’d like by only talking through a camera.

“So… You’re right. Something is bothering me but to be honest with you, I really don’t want to talk about it right now.“ You tell him a little ashamed you have to turn him down. Taehyung doesn’t look upset though. He really just wanted for you to know that you can tell him if you want to. Right now, you don’t want to and that’s fine. He won’t bother you then.

To your relief, he only offers you an understanding smile that doesn’t show a hint of judgment and makes you feel better about yourself in an instant.

“Alright. As long as you’re okay, I’m not going to invest any further.“ He promises, warming your heart with his kindness. “When are you going to be at the train station?“ He then asks, changing the subject.

You think about it for a moment, trying to do the maths in your head, “As long as everything works as planned, probably around three p.m.“ You say, checking again on your phone for confirmation.

Taehyung nods, “Okay, Hyejin and I will come to get you, is that alright?“ He states rather than asking but it doesn’t matter because you like the idea a lot. You hadn’t asked Yoongi yet if he’d have the time to come get you but you figured he’d have to work and telling him now would be too short term.

“Sounds great, thanks Tae!“ You grin. He looks happy when he hears you agree and just simply smiles at you. You feel like you could keep on talking to him for hours but you suddenly see how late it is on your laptop and gasp a little because you didn’t intend for it to get so late today. “Sorry, don’t be mad but I think I should actually go and sleep because I want to leave early tomorrow and I don’t want to fall asleep on the train.“ You tell him.

You feel like he looked a little upset for a moment but you quickly shake it off, thinking you’re just seeing things. He probably wanted to tell you something more and you feel bad that you only talked about you now but you hope he understands. At least you two can talk face to face tomorrow.

“Alright, sleep tight, ___. See you tomorrow.“ He says, voice growing quieter as he is also getting quite tired.

“Goodnight Taehyung.“ You wave through the screen, making him laugh quietly but he copies the silly action before he sees you smile one last time and turn your camera off.

Taehyung sighs quietly, he would have liked to talk to you a little longer but if he has to give up on a few more minutes of conversation for you to come home sooner, he’ll gladly accept it. It’s a great deal after all.

This night, Taehyung falls asleep with a smile on his face. He doesn't mean to sound cheesy, but hearing you say that he will see you again tomorrow and even pick you up has improved his mood a lot. Now he just hopes that whatever torments you will be forgotten in no time as soon as you are with them again.

Copyright © 2021 jananakookie please do not repost, and thank you for reading :)

[rextasywrites]

Aftershow - Leon Kennedy x f!reader

with the help of some tricks and your best friend distracting the security guard, you manage to sneak into the after show of the world premiere of “Resident Evil - Infinite Darkness”. It tells the story of federal Agent Leon S. Kennedy, who, after retiring from his career as a federal agent, decided to tackle acting. Ever since you first saw him in “Resident Evil 2”, you were in love with him and couldn’t wait to meet him. So...what would happen at this afterparty?

hey lads i’m back! i hope you enjoy this piece i have been writing the past few days! hope you are doing well xoxo

Warnings: alcohol, smut, Leon being an ass to others sometimes

Your dress clung to your body, making you feel like some overstuffed sausage. It was physically and mentally out of your comfort zone, but your best friend insisted you looked like a million bucks in it, so you begrudgingly purchased it a week before. “But you look fantastic,” your best friend reassured  you when you stood before your mirror earlier that night, awkwardly, tugging at the fabric by your hipsMaybe she was right, but currently she was busy with the security guard to give you the chance to meet your idol and celebrity crush, Leon S. Kennedy. You had heard he’d attend the premiere, and posts on social media confirmed the rumours.Not that you’d ever admit to subscribing to notifications from him, though.

The place was filled with Hollywood executives, actors, and actresses from all over the planet, yet you hadn’t spotted your favourite so far. Maybe he was outside smoking? Busy spending time with fans and writing autographs? Who knew… So you made your way past some gossiping actress towards the bar. A simple Sex on the Beach would calm your nerves. You began to zone out as you sipped on the cocktail- that is, until you felt a hand on your shoulder.

“And I thought I had met everyone tonight.”

That voice. That fucking voice. You’d recognize it out of a million, and there he was.

On the barstool next to you sat Leon S. Kennedy, and he was touching you at this very moment.

Before you would answer, you chuckled and took a sip from the cocktail, buying your nerves some more time before you’d answer. “Guess not.”, you said and placed the glass on the bar in front of you. “I’m (Y/N), nice to meet you.”

“I’m Leon, but I’m sure you already knew that, nice to meet you too. (Y/N), what a beautiful name for a beautiful woman. Say, how is it possible that I haven’t spotted you before?”

Uh oh. Quick, think of something.

“Sorry, bad traffic,” you replied, directly quoting a line from his costar in Resident Evil 4. “But I’m here now, and just in time to celebrate you and your new show!”, you smiled and raised your glass, Leon clicking it together with his own beer glass. “Cheers.” You two took big sips from your beverages, Leon’s hand now gravitating towards your knee.

“Say, would you like to join me on the terrace? It’s getting so hot in here.”, Leon said and pointed towards an open door on the other side of the room. The mere thought of being able to spend more time with him made you agree with his idea, and a minute later you two were sitting on the terrace in a porch swing. Leon had bought you another drink. He was such a gentleman, just like you’d always imagined him.. From time to time, people came to congratulate Leon on the success of his new show, wanting to invite him for a drink or more rounds. Yet every time he declined it, saying he already had enough for the evening.

*

“You weren’t invited, were you?”, Leon asked after some conversation between you two. You had told him a bit about your life, your work, your pets. In return, Leon shared stories of the making of Infinite Darkness, funny bloopers and behind-the-scenes stories you otherwise would never hear. The party had died out by now, it being late and the night becoming colder. Telling him a lie wasn’t an option, so you sighed and nodded. “Thought so. You carry yourself differently.”, Leon said while he lit himself a cigarette, blowing the smoke into the night sky.

“What do you mean?”, confusion was written across your face. Carrying yourself differently?

“Hollywood wankers carry themselves with a confidence that could kill a mortal like us. They think they are invincible, but oh boy they are wrong. You don’t carry that energy about you. You don’t look the type.. How did you get in?”

“My best friend is buddies with the security guard and he owed her a favour.”

“You little minx.”, Leon laughed, taking another drag as his eyes rested on you, taking in your body in this dress you hated, yet in his eyes you were the most beautiful woman in the sea of botox and silicone tits. “If you promise not to spill the whole night on social media, I can show you a whole new world.”, and by the look in his eyes, you both knew the feeling was mutual

*

The penthouse Leon was renting for his stay in your city was more than just breathtaking. Standing by the front window, you could see the whole city, way beyond the city limits. In the bathroom was, next to a big bathtub, a jacuzzi, and an iced down champagne bucket right next to it. “In Hollywood, money has no meaning. You ever seen Wolf of Wall Street? They weren’t fuckin’ lying when they called money ‘fun coupons’”, he laughed when you first entered the penthouse and your eyes had nearly rolled out. The bedroom alone was bigger than your whole flat, the champagne in that goddamn bucket probably worth more than your rent

“If your eyes get any bigger they’ll fall out of your head!”, Leon laughed as he sat down on the huge sofa, the fireplace warming up the room to a comfortable degree. Yet the dress felt too tight, just ready to be taken off...or was that the alcohol speaking? Leon for the cigar box lying atop the coffee table. He offered you one, but you declined - you didn’t smoke, but the mere view of Leon with a big cigar between his lips, legs spread and dress shirt slightly unbuttoned...it went straight to your core, a view millions of women would kill for, presented in front of you. “Like what you see, little minx?”

“Would it be bad if I didn’t.”, you replied, trying to hide your nerves by being cocky. But Leon wasn’t having any of this. He could see through your mask, trying and failing to hide how badly you wanted to straddle his lap and kiss him senseless, seeing stars and whole new universes. Comes with being an ex cop and agent. No secrets could make it past his eyes.

“Come here”, were Leon’s simple words, yet they had an effect on you and your body, something you'd normally be ashamed to admit. You made your way over to Leon on the sofa and instead of sitting next to him, he patted on his lap. “I want you to be comfortable, and I bet you are the most comfortable on my lap. C’mon, it’s the best seat in the house.”, he smirked and...you couldn’t deny it. His thighs were comfortably big, years of hard training paying off in the form of muscle and rough skin under his suit pants.

You weren’t sure why your head felt like it was spinning - was it the alcohol or the intoxicating smell from Leon? A mixture of his unique scent: whiskey and his cologne, all in a cloud around your nose. You wished you would be able to smell him for the rest of your life. All you knew was that your body screamed for Leon, and his body screamed right back. “Here.”, Leon offered you the glass of scotch he had just poured for himself. “There are three types of liquor. Terrible, not so terrible, or do you want to impress people with your money?”, and with those words, he pressed his lips against yours.

*

“We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“And yet, here we are.”

*

Leon had picked you up after another glass or three of scotch, the way to his bedroom clear. You weren’t sure if it was the warmth from the scotch swelling in your chest or the way his muscular arms wrapped around you, but something in you was one wrong- or right- move away from melting away completely. Your legs were wrapped around his hips as well as possible. The slit on your dress helped you, but suddenly Leon stopped in his tracks. “Are you okay?”, you asked, placing a hand on his cheek, but he looked over the bedroom you two just entered… Suddenly he placed you back down on the floor, kicking the door shut and pushing you against it.

“I don’t think I’m gonna make it to the bed.”, he smirked , his soft hands moving down your sides, leaving goosebumps wherever they touched you. Your dress felt too tight, the room too hot - you needed to get out of it quickly! Leon watched your blush grow, this asshole smirk still on his lips. “I love how real you are.”, he muttered as he leaned in, brushing his lips over your pulse point, just enough to draw a soft gasp from your lips.

“What do you mean?”, you asked, puzzled. Leon just chuckled, “Haven’t you noticed? It’s all Photoshopped. All the women at the premiere had the same fucking ass. Same crooked lips from the same quack doctor. The same busted Botox faces, everywhere you go. Yet they think they’re hot shit.”, he whispered, hot air against your even hotter skin. “But you...look at you.”

And you did. You looked down on yourself and saw nothing but imperfections. You looked back to Leon with a frown but he just laughed, “Hollywood is suffocating as fuck, but you’re like a breath of fresh air.. Look at you! You even have stretch marks! I haven’t seen real stretch marks since I put my first step into a studio!”, Leon took a deep breath, his voice shaking as he said his next sentence, “And I want you so fucking badly.”

*

Only minutes later, Leon had marked you up, hickeys and little bites of pleasure and need covering your upper body, whatever part he could reach. The dress was long gone and you laid on the bed, watching Leon unbuttoning his dress shirt. Underneath the white fabric was a body riddled with scars and old, badly healed wounds. Each and every single one could tell a story you were ready to hear, but right now, all you wanted was Leon and only Leon. And he needed you too.

“Aren’t you fucking gorgeous?”, Leon asked as his hands reached behind you, undoing your bra with a simple movement. This man had disarmed bombs before, of course a bra wouldn’t cause him much trouble. “Look at you…”, he repeated once more once your bra was thrown across the room, landing on some random piece of furniture. You blushed under his hungry eyes, him taking in what would be his in mere minutes. “Spread your legs. I wanna taste you.”

*

You had an iron grip on Leon’s hair, bucking your hips to meet his touch. More, more, more! You needed more! While Leon’s tongue teased your entrance, he used his hand to hold you down, keeping you in place like the good girl that you had been. Well, had been until his tongue first licked up your folds, taking in the sweetness of your juices. Leon had consumed many different liquors in his life, but only your sweet juices could rival ambrosia, sending his drunken mind into another plane of existence.

“Leon!”, you moaned out the moment his calloused finger brushed over your clit. It had been begging for attention, but Leon - that dick - kept on lapping up your juices, sucking and nibbling carefully on your folds. The movements of his fingers were in a steady rhythm with the ones of his tongue, making your head spin once more. He knew how to play you like a fiddle, making you putty in his hands.

But before you could cum, Leon pulled away, his face covered in your sweet fluids and he licked over his lips with an obscene sound and a dirty smirk on his lips. “I can’t wait to fuck you ‘til you scream my name.”

*

The condom was put on quickly. Magnum, of course. What else would a guy like him need? The first stroke inside of you made you see stars for the third time in less than an hour, what an impact this man had on you. Leon was still inside of you, not moving until you were adjusted to his size, especially his girth. “You okay?”, he asked, to which you gave him a soft nod. “Yeah, I’ll be alright. It’s just… fuck, you’re big..”

Leon’s ego beamed at your words, and once you gave him the okay to continue, it was very hard for him to hold back in any way. You were too tight, too sweet, making him nearly burst on the spot. Instead, his mind wandered...but you were always part of those thoughts.

The wet noises of sex, lust, and unadulterated passion filled the room, along with soft panting and groans coming from you two, a noise as old as humankind. Your arms were tightly wrapped around Leon’s body, leaving behind tiny marks when you needed to hold onto him, your nails digging into his skin. Leon hissed at the stings but fuck, knowing you were marking him up too made him even harder, harder than he had ever been.

“Fuck, you feel so good.”, Leon moaned against your neck and buried his head there for a moment. All you could do was nod in agreement, not trusting your voice anymore. Leon reached down at this, pressing his palm between you two, against your clit. You needed this feeling, you were begging for your release.

*

“Come on, cum for me.”, Leon growled when he felt the first contractions around his cock. The needy undertone of his voice was the last thing you needed to push yourself over the edge. “Leon!”, you moaned and came around him, stilling in your movements. Leon rocked his hips a few more times before his own release overcame him, spilling into the condom as you milked him inside of you. It felt too good to be true, but Leon was real.

Once your high started to fade and the contractions lessened, Leon leaned in for a quick kiss, stealing it from your open lips as you tried to catch your breath again. You smiled up to him, loosening your grip around him. “That was great.”, you smiled and Leon dropped next to you after pulling out.

*

In the early morning hours, you woke up to an empty bed. Leon’s side was cold and you sat up, looking around in confusion. Where was he? He wouldn’t leave you alone, would he? Finally, you spotted him on the balcony and you quickly threw on one of the jackets laying around along with your panties.

“Good morning.”, you smiled at Leon, who was taking a drag from his cigarette. He greeted you while blowing the hot smoke out, then held up his arm, offering you a place next to him. You happily agreed, leaning against his warm body in the fresh morning hours.

“I’d love to see you again.”, Leon said after he exhaled another drag, looking down at you. This took you by surprise - why would he? You weren’t special at all, just a mere fan who managed to get into his penthouse suite with a lot of luck and cleavage. He grabbed his phone from the table next to him, offering you the open contact list, “I’d love to take you out on a few dates and such. Spend time with you. What do you think? Wanna give me your number?”

[becomingbts]

Time heals (sometimes) - Teaser 1

Summary: 6 years ago, (Y/N) thought that she was finally taking her life into her hands, leaving behind a toxic and abusive relationship with a man who taught her she’d never be worthy of love. However, it became hard to ignore his words when she met her seven soulmates who rejected her without even giving her a chance to prove herself. It took (Y/N) 3 years to realize that it wouldn’t be her end. She would live on to prove them all wrong; she would become what they all thought she wasn’t: someone worthy of love. And as she stands proudly on the stage, under the burning spotlights and the applause and the cries of the delirious crowd, she feels alive. Alive, just like the bond she believed to be broken.

Pairings: Y/N x OT7

GENRE: Soulmate AU!, Idol Y/NAU!, semi social-media AU!, ANGST (mainly), fluff, romance, maybe smut in the series.

Ask or comment to be tagged!

Warnings: The series is going to be heavy with a lot of personal experiences mixed into the fiction, so this is going to be kind of therapeutic for me. Please, consider not reading the series if you are not comfortable with: abandonment issues, anxiety, panic attacks, depression, self-harm (not descriptive and only part of MC’s past), suicide thoughts (in the past), toxic behavior, toxic and abusive relationship (in the past), depreciating self-talk and low self-esteem, a lot of curse, physical and mental pain, near death experience situation (in the past), and maybe smut scenes (happy ending though, but it will probably be quite the ride).

NOTE: I was thinking of “Moonchild” and for some reasons, some memories I’d prefer to have forgotten came back to my mind and instead of making a full-blown panic attack like I used to, I thought that it would make a great plot if I mingled that with a soulmate and idol verse and that’s how I started going into it. This is going to be loaded with personal experiences, even if they’ll probably be a bit differently explained compared to what I experienced. Despite the heavy themes and many warnings, I hope you guys will like it. I think I really needed to write it. It will be a semisocial media AU!, because I like the idea of being to write some of their conversations through texts. However, I do plan on fully writing most of it. Though, you’ll have some updates about their social medias as I will update their profiles soon after you see this. I will probably mix a lot of different media for this story such as songs written and produced by myself. I’ll upload for real MC’s EP. So expect a lot for this story. Please take well care, feedback is always very warmly welcomed, it helps me to write for real. If you need to talk to someone, my dms are always opened and if you really don’t feel well, please call urgency numbers.

Thank you for reading,

-Dolly

"And we will close our night show with the most awaited segment! The audience jumped during the commercial break, it's amazing how many people just joined us! Welcome to our interview segment and especially, welcome and thank you so much for being with us Moon!”

"Of course, thank you for having me on your radio show." 

"Thank you for coming! I have to mention that this is your very first interview with another media than your usual personal platforms like Vlive, YouTube, or Instagram, so we are honored to be the first ones to greet you! Do you plan on making more activities outside your personal schedule for the promotion of your new album?" 

"If I may be honest, not really. I'm the most comfortable in my own safe zone and I tend to try not to get out of it too often. It might close some doors to me but I'm comfortable with my fans that way. However, I often listen to this radio show and a lot of my fans were enthusiastic about that so I thought: why not."

"Ah, thank you so much, it means a lot! Your fans are indeed a strong community and they support you whether you go to TV shows or not. Besides, you've been a very active artist on social media and your whole career started on YouTube and SoundCloud before you signed to your current agency. We have to congratulate you on your journey! It's barely been two years but here you are, with your second EP 'People'! Congratulations on the release!" 

"Thank you very much."

“For our listeners who might not know who Moon is, I’m going to introduce her to you: Moon, your real name is (Y/N), you were born on August 4th, 1998, Incheon and your mother was American so you pursued your studies in America. You have been taking online classes since the start of your career at the HULT, university of Florida, and even recently got your Business Bachelor, now aiming for a Ph.D. You started your journey on Youtube, uploading covers and vlogs until you finally started producing your own songs, releasing them on Soundcloud. You started gaining a lot of followers; thus, you started on other social media such as Twitter or Instagram. One year ago, you release your first EP called ‘BALANCE’  which is the reason why the music label BigHit reached to you and asked you if you wanted to sign with them. Did I get everything right?”

“You are. It feels like you know my life better than I do.”

"Ah not at all, but thank you, I am glad that I didn’t say something wrong! Would you mind sharing the concept of this EP? Many of your fans probably already know but maybe some of our daily listeners might not!" 

"Of course. As you said, 'People' is my second EP, yet the first to be studio recorded. Signing with BigHit is a big step in my career and it created a lot of changes, hence I decided to focus on the people I have met, stayed with, became close to, or detached myself from… This is dedicated to the people who changed my life, whether they intended to or not. It could be interpreted as my social life diary in a way." 

"I see, many of your fans have said that the album held a very distinct duality, with a bright and a much darker side that made quite the storm on social media. ‘Y/N our Moon’ and ‘MOONISBACK’ trended for a few nights on Twitter. Do you have anything you'd like to say about that?" 

"I guess it was a surprise because this mini-album is really raw and uncensored. I didn't try to sugarcoat it nor to romanticize my experiences. I hope it brings comfort to people who haven't been feeling well. Because I think that it’s always easy to say that it's going to be okay to someone who’s not feeling well. Everything doesn’t suddenly become okay. And it's fine to be hurting, you can learn to live with this pain and move on while still hoping for better days. There is no end to hopes, and this is why my EP has a brighter side to it. Not everything is always a vast cold ocean. Sometimes, there are small or big waves that come crashing into our universe and they form something that we couldn't have imagined. They bring a little piece of sunshine in life and it helps to move on. So I hope that people who are struggling know that, despite how insignificant I might be, there is a person that understands and can relate to their struggles. I hope it can comfort them, even just slightly, to know that they are not alone." 

"That's a beautiful way to put it."

"Ah, thank you." 

"I have to ask because I'm really curious and I’m definitely not the only one: a lot of your fans have been theorizing about who could your title track ‘TIME’ be about? I have to ask you on the behalf of everyone. Is it okay for me to break the mystery?" 

"Time is a track that shouldn’t have made it to the EP. It’s a bit like a fit of personal anger that I didn’t know I needed to let out.”

“Your anger was definitely heard and understood. People have been curious about the addressee of the song especially because of the line ‘maybe it’s time I finally let go of you’. So can you tell us who is it about?” 

“Uh...Time was written for my seven soulmates who rejected me years ago." 

"Seven!?"

"Yeah, it's a lot I know.”

“Is that why you have covered your soul mark with this tattoo on your arm? Netizens talked about it a lot; normally idols tend to cover their arm from the public eyes to avoid for their soulmates’ names to be known, but instead, you were proudly showing your tattooed arm, fully covering what might be under the ink. Many people assumed that it meant that you didn’t have a soulmate at all.” 

“Well, I decided to cover the mark because there was no reason for me to keep it without hurting myself. I decided that I have been hurt enough to let myself take a rest. I didn’t see the point in hiding my arm either, I’m proud of my tattoo, I mean; it’s really a beautiful piece in my opinion. But to answer the assumptions, I don’t consider that I have soulmates anymore, hence why the tattoo as well." 

"This is really a heartbreaking story, it must have been extremely hard. Breaking a soul bond is immensely dangerous, my link with my husband already itches when I spend the day away from him, so seven soul bonds? It must have been terrible." 

"It was, but the most important is where I am now. I'm not lingering on that anymore because they made their choices and I thus made mine. I just hope that they all are healthy and happy where they are." 

"I have to say I'm really impressed (Y/N)-shi, you really have a delicate and caring soul. I probably wouldn't be able to have such soft words about your soulmates had I been in your shoes."

"I think living the actual experience made me reflect on myself a lot. I'm comfortable where I am now, I'm able to do music and make what I love. I have nothing to complain about, I'm surrounded by lovely and supportive fans, I have the best manager I could have ever hoped for and a warm and healthy family. I don't need more on my side." 

"I'm glad you are happy then. Many of your fans have pointed out it's really hard to make you smile and some wonder if you are happy, especially after the release of ‘TIME’, I don’t blame some of your fans for being worried." 

"Ahhh, is smiling the only way to prove that we are happy? I believe my words are usually a bit more impactful than my facial expressions. I have to admit that I don't often smile, it's not a bad thing, at least I don't think so, but I just don't feel the need to smile when I don’t feel like it. Besides, I get shy easily when I expose my emotions too much." 

"It's hard to imagine you being shy but at the same time now that I have you in front of me, our listeners cannot see you, but I definitely feel that you have a very shy and reserved aura despite the energy you give off when you are on stage. It’s not unfriendly either, but you’re just very soft-spoken and quiet in everything you do. Like when you came in, I barely heard you entering at all; you’re just silently making your way without a fuss, it’s really endearing, to be honest."

"Ah... I’ve been told that my stage persona and the ‘me’ in real life were two different entities but I don’t really think it’s true. I'm extremely introverted and it doesn't really mix well with the stage. So I just put it on the side for the people who came to see me and deserve to see more than a 24 years old woman who has troubles speaking without stuttering in front of other people." 

"You stutter when you have to speak in front of other people?" 

"Sometimes it happens when I’m nervous, and I’m very often nervous. Like right now, I’m extremely nervous. But it's something I'm working on." 

"Well it's definitely paying off because I couldn't sense that you were nervous at all, just very calm and soft, but I wouldn’t be able to imagine you being nervous enough to stutter."

"A lot of artists actually have stage fright, most of them just don't want to admit it because it doesn't sound sexy when you tell your fans you're actually shaking before going up there for the show." 

"This is very true, but it's refreshing to hear it from someone who actually lives through that rather than fan theories." 

"That's understandable." 

"Our time is coming to the end, do you have anything you would like to add before we sadly get our mics taken away?" 

"Oh uhm, everyone, my new mini-album 'People' came out very recently and yet it already received a lot of love so I want to thank you for that. This EP was a very personal project and I was worried about how it would be welcomed but you all made me realize that I have nothing to fear because we'll always find someone who can relate to our stories. As long as I can help even one person with my songs, then it's enough for me. Thank you for listening to me and my voice. I hope we'll be able to meet soon. Love you my fans and non-fans as well, please take well care of yourselves in those times. Be careful and stay safe. Wear your mask!" 

“Thank you so much Moon for being with us tonight. Our time was short but I really enjoyed it, I hope our listeners were able to feel that very warm presence of yours through the mic. ‘Give Me A Song’ of Moon’s EP ‘People’ will now be playing and we will see each other tomorrow night with IU for the release of her new album LILAC. Take care!”

Comments or Ask to be tagged!

Uploaded : 08/04/2021

[maybedefinitely404]

Day 30: Dukexiety

Day 30 - When you look in the mirror, you can’t see your own reflection, just your soulmate. (Never heard of this prompt before, so I guessed)

Content warnings: maybe some anxiety? Just some wholesome for ya.

Word count: 1.5k

This ficlet is dedicated to @marshymoop. 

Virgil was told he had brown hair; the color of a walnut. Sometimes if he grew it out long enough, he could just catch a glimpse of the color when it fell into his eyes. Apparently those were brown too. 

A friend of his mom’s was an artist and had drawn him when he’d turned thirteen, but it hadn’t looked right. The face staring back at him from the canvas didn’t feel like his at all. He didn’t recognize the curve to the nose or the bags under the eyes; it just looked like a stranger. The more he looked, the more uneasy he felt, and he’d tucked it into the back corner of his closet, never to look at it again.

His reflection, where he’d seen the face of his soulmate since he was a baby, was far more familiar to him.

Black hair streaked with white.

Sharp green eyes.

A smattering of freckles over olive skin.

Sometimes it was odd, smearing makeup under eyes that weren’t technically his, and trying to fix hair that was shorter than what showed in the reflection, but it was a problem everyone had until they met their soulmate. He just hoped that the dark clothes looked as good on the real him as it did on his reflection. 

 ---

Virgil was struggling to focus on the textbook paragraph in front of him when his phone chimed. It was a welcome distraction from the existential quandaries that came with Philosophy 103. Just a quick break, he promised. 

 Remus: heyyyyyyy

 Aaaand there was that plan out the window. He couldn’t care less though, studying be damned, because now his heart was pounding and a nearly painful smile was stretching his cheeks. It had been a week since Remus had messaged him, and the pent up joy was all coming out at once. 

 You’re back! He replied amidst flapping hands. How was camping? His fingers hesitated over the keyboard. 

 I missed your messages. I missed you. I was lonely.  

 He said nothing.

 Remus: i caught a squirrel. i couldn’t keep it though

 Virgil: Did you name it at least?

 That’s adorable. You’re adorable and a goof and amazing.

 Remus: Yep. Squirrely Temple

 A picture message showed up moments later, showing a surprisingly relaxed squirrel sitting in a styrofoam cup, a single peanut clasped in it’s little hands. The taker of the photo wasn’t visible, though that was to be expected. 

The next one featured what Virgil assumed was the same squirrel, this time wearing a crudely constructed paper top hat. It held another peanut, and once again seemed shockingly unconcerned. 

The photo was quickly replaced with a call screen and Virgil accepted it eagerly, still laughing.

 “Did you see the squirrel?” Remus asked excitedly, to which Virgil could only laugh harder.

 “Why is it in a hat?” He wheezed.

 “I made it out of sap and a brochure I found. I think Squirrely Temple looked rather dapper.” The grin was evident in Remus’ voice.

 “And you didn’t keep it?” Virgil inelegantly kicked his schoolwork off the bed to lay across it, grabbing his fidget cube from the side table.

 “Nah, something about preserving wildlife and not having enough room at home,” he yawned, “Me an’ Roman gave him plenty of peanuts before we left though. A whole pile on a wood stump.”

 “You sound tired,” Virgil teased. There was a small twinge in his chest at the idea of Remus going to bed already. He’d been off the grid for a week. Virgil was loath to admit, but he’d missed his friend more than expected. 

 “I think my body just sees an actual bed and the ‘tired’ protocol is,” Another yawn, “activated.”

 Virgil yawned in tandem. “You should probably sleep, then.” He tried to keep the disappointment from his voice. 

 “Take your own advice, and I’ll consider. When’s the last time you got six hours of sleep?”

 “Consecutively?” 

 Remus snorted. There was a whoosh of air as he dropped onto his bed, and a brief lull in the conversation before he spoke up. “I think I’d rather talk to you than sleep, actually.”

 Damn, how was he supposed to respond to that? He pressed a cool hand to his reddening cheeks, glad the other couldn’t see him. “Wow, is that genuine emotion coming from Remus?” Virgil retorted instead. We can talk for hours if you want. I missed talking to you. 

 “My bad, I think I still have some fresh air in my system.”

 God, he’d missed him. A single week had felt like a whole year without their constant interaction and updates throughout their days. They’d only known each other for months (had it only been months?) but in that time, talking to each other had become so ingrained in their lives, it seemed wrong to not wake up with his phone blown up from messages. It was so effortless, wasting hours away but feeling like no time had passed at all. It meant the world to Virgil.

 And despite their jokes and snarky conversations, he had a feeling it meant a lot to Remus too.

 It was as if he blinked, and the sun had set in the sky. The room had gradually turned dark as ink but Virgil couldn’t be bothered to flip on the lights, not when he was so captivated by Remus’ voice as he recounted his family camping trip. He didn’t notice nor care; this was more important.

Only when Remus’ yawns grew closer and closer together did it occur to him that the other was several hours ahead, blasted timezones. It would be early morning there.

 “I think you should try to sleep,” Virgil grinned as Remus tried and failed to keep talking through another yawn.

 “Maybe,” He sighed.

 “Talk tomorrow?” For the first night in a bit, Virgil felt that same, familiar warm bubble in his chest.

 “I actually had a question for you, first.”

 Pop.

 Remus sounded uncharacteristically nervous, putting Virgil on edge instantly. Everything he’d ever done wrong flooded through his mind. Oh god, how did he find out about the third grade Christmas concert?

 “Do you want to vid chat?” He blurted.

 Virgil’s breath caught in his throat.

  “Like, tomorrow. Or not. It’s okay if not.”

 Remus never stuttered. Something about it was unbelievably adorable. 

 “Just for fun, because we haven’t before, but if you don’t want to there’s no pressure-”

 “Yes.”

 All blubbering screeched to a halt on the other end, and Virgil couldn’t decide if his predominant emotion was anxiety or excitement. Besottedness, maybe? Either way, it made his face heat up to the tips of his ears and his feet wiggle.

 “Yes?”

 “Yeah, let’s do it.”

 “Okay!” Remus let out a relieved laugh that bordered on a giggle, “When?”

 “I end classes at one tomorrow.” 

 The man murmured his way through timezone math for a moment. “Yeah! Yeah, okay! I can do that! Yes!”

 Virgil bit his lip, but a laugh made its way through anyways. “I can’t wait.”

 -----------

 Whatever confidence Virgil had developed the day before, it had completely evaporated by the next morning. His mind wandered during classes, too busy coming up with worst case scenarios. What if the connection sucked? What if they spoke over each other and it was awkward? What if they had nothing to talk about and it got awkward? What if they weren’t compatible face to face? It added a whole new layer to their relationship they hadn’t explored before.

 What if they weren’t friends by the end of it? 

 He was equal parts relieved and petrified when his final class ended and there was nothing between him and the call. The whole walk back to his dorm was spent watching the numbers on the clock tick by, each minute sending a rush of adrenaline through him until he was sure he’d collapse from nerves right there on the path way. 

A text from Remus came through three minutes before their agreed time.

 Remus: Ready?

 NO, he wanted to scream. There were too many variables, they were leaving the comfort zone and that’s where Virgil thrived!

 Virgil: 5 mins

 He set up his computer and paced around his room for the remainder of his time. His eyes caught a blur of motion in the mirror and he turned to his reflection, his flapping hands slowing as he studied the face before him as he’d done hundreds of times before. Not his face, but the only one he knew as his.

A part of him was suddenly weighed by guilt as he looked into those bright eyes, because the guiltier part of him knew what he had was a crush. A helpless one, at that. And a hopeless one. What was the point pining after someone when the universe had already handpicked someone else for him? 

Stupid universe and it’s stupid soulmates. 

The chime of an incoming call startled him out of his reverie and he swore under his breath. He tried to soothe down his hair, rub the stress from his eyes, but it was hopeless when he couldn’t see if it actually looked okay.

He sat in his desk chair and took a few measured breaths before clicking accept. The video stuttered and glitched before it finally settled, and Virgil’s breath caught in his throat. 

 Black hair streaked with white.

 Sharp green eyes.

 A smattering of freckles over olive skin. 

 The silence stretched between them for achingly long before Remus beamed into the camera, and it was the most beautiful thing Virgil had ever seen.

 “Well, hello there, soulmate.”

Taglist:

@max-is-tired

@joylessnightsky

@marshymoop

[elysianslove]

hi, hi, hello!!! i love, love, love the way you write and portray the jjk characters—i've read all of them and they're so good xiejdbbdhd (i've recently made a new writing blog and one of the people i'm studying closely to help improve is you— like pls spare some talent 🤲)—i know you're probably swamped with other requests, so if you don't want to do this, please feel free to ignore!! i've seen a lot of people headcanon megumi liking a chubby s/o, but not much of anyone else, so may i have some hcs of yuuji and toge with one?? (+ you might also add some for sukuna in yuuji's part too if you want). thank you!! 💖

oh my goodness hi!!! that is the most flattering thing anyone’s ever said to me; i am so, so incredibly honored oh my goodness. thank you so much for your words on god imma cry. and yes, you absolutely may! i really hope you like these, i love you mwah <3

also, only if you’re comfortable with it, dm the url to your blog!! i’d love to see and read your works, mwah <333

itadori yuuji

okay omg i saw this panel from the manga on instagram once of yuuji being asked who he’d date from his class or something, and he pointed out this chubby girl and he was talking about her personality and how cool she is and i genuinely believe that really is yuuji’s perception towards his s/o

like yeah he says he wants to date a girl that looks like jennifer lawrence but when it really goes down to it, yuuji does not care what his s/o looks like

if anything, i think yuuji would be more into curvier or chubbier people, idk why but i see it so perfectly well? he seems like such a cuddly person and his excuse would 100% be something like “you’re just so. soft. and nice to cuddle with.” like he absolutely adores cuddling with his s/o, and this isn’t just because of his general touchy personality. 

the same way he likes cuddling, he absolutely loves hugs. they’re like the perfect preview of cuddling. absolutely the type to just barricade towards you when you’re at a distance and leap at you when he finally comes close to you. it does not matter if you end up on the ground with him on top of you. the strongest he runs at you, the more he loves you

yuuji’s crazy strong, and we’ve already established that, so he’d definitely be the boyfriend that picks you up, carries you around, lets you sleep on him, and if you ever mention anything about being too heavy for him, he just holds you tighter against him and says you feel like a feather against him and to shut up he wants to cuddle rn shhhh

he also definitely pushes you out of your comfort zone to wear a certain clothes or specific clothes that you really like. he’s super encouraging, especially because he doesn’t say things like “it looks good for a big person” he just starts frothing at the mouth at how good it is, period

loves to share clothes with you. he’ll give you his hoodies, and he’ll steal yours. might as well exchange closets at this rate

if you’re feeling particularly insecure, and you don’t really wanna go out or anything like that, he understands and won’t force you to leave the house, but he will definitely spend the entire day trying to make you feel better and won’t let you wallow in pity for a minute. absolutely strips you and him to your underwear and just dances with you until you’re both out of breath

ryomen sukuna; i really think he doesn’t care either. probably prefers it if a woman is more plump cause to him it’s just a sign of healthiness i guess? he just trynna fuck rip. but yes, that would probably be his way of eliminating your insecurity. like oh you don’t think you’re worthy? here’s some body worship and praise <3 also is the type to encourage you by belittling your insecurities? does that make sense? like just scoffs at you when you stand in front of a mirror and pick at yourself because why would you think like this of yourself? why would he be with you if he thought that way of you, you know? all this is weirdly motivating like he’s so dismissive of it all that you kinda forget it, or just don’t understand why you ever considered it. king of reverse psychology lol

inumaki toge

now i think toge would be more of a “this person’s looks captured my attention” and then “damn their personality makes them a thousand times more attractive” but not in an objectifying way, you know? and it’s definitely not in a societal norm or standard of beauty. it’s just what he finds beautiful or attractive 

he doesn’t have a preference when it comes to looks, he just wants to be attracted to the person to want to get to know them, you get me? if you happen to be chubby, that doesn’t matter in the least to him. he’ll deadpan like “does being chubby not make you pretty like????”

toge’s not necessarily the cuddliest person on earth, but he would be lying if he said he doesn’t absolutely melt the moment he falls into your arms. he just loses his mind. you feel so soft and snuggly he’s in heaven

he’s a very soft lover. while yuuji’s louder in his actions that you’re overwhelmed and bursting at the seams, toge’s calmer. he makes you feel loved in that you wake up to see him tracing your figure calmly, caressing your body and skin softly, admiring every curve and every stretch mark.

speaking of stretch marks, he definitely did that thing where he grabbed a gold marker and lined all your stretch marks with glittery gold, and then proceeded to kiss all over them

he does that a lot. kiss your skin, i mean, especially if you’re feeling a little insecure, or even if he just wants to. loves to settle by your side and kiss all along your body, leaving you so flustered and with your chest bursting with love

if you want to try a certain style but are a little nervous to, toge would dress in that same style with you. yeah, it’s not exactly the same, but it’s a lot more encouraging than one would imagine, honestly, especially if it’s a really different style than what’s considered normal or basic

he really doesn’t care if you’re on the chubbier side, because at the end of the day, he found you and all of you attractive, and your personality’s golden, so why wouldn’t he stay? 

[alisonsfics]

reconnected

pairing: shawn mendes x reader

request: “hello. i was wondering if you could write where y/n and shawn met at school or on vine or idk at a coffee shop. both of us were young new artists and bonded over that. as both of us start getting popular we lose contact. a few years later we decide to collab on a song and that rescinds a spark of friendship and maybe something. but of course, I wanted to at a bit of drama. while you try to catch up on, you know life, the paparazzi are sure you two are together, shawn's ex is stringing up trouble and all your friends and family keep on bothering you two about each other” - @iwishiwasyuri

word count: 2.7k

It had been a peaceful day. You had woken up early and started a day of productivity. You were currently drinking a cup of tea and replying to a few business emails.

It was peaceful. Birds were singing outside. It was early, and it felt like the world was not awake yet. This moment of serenity almost felt like the calm before the storm.

Then, your phone buzzed and shook your desk in the process. You were taken out of your thoughts.

You glanced down at the lit screen. You noticed a text message had popped up on your screen.

Woah.

You hadn’t seen that name in years.

Shawn.

Shawn Mendes.

You and Shawn had known each other for years. You both bonded over being singers and the rest was history.

You two had a beautiful story, much like a fairytale. The way you both met felt like a page out of a novel.

You had been at your local coffee shop, way before you had become successful in the music industry world.

It was back when you uploaded videos of yourself singing covers on YouTube. It was simple and seemed mediocre now, but at the time you loved it. You were singing all the time and it was your dream, even though you made virtually no money. You still loved it.

You jumped up into the seat at the high table. You pulled out your laptop to edit your most recent video. You sipped on your warm latte. It made you feel warm and cozy, as opposed to the freezing weather outside.

You plopped your headphones over your ears and started to edit the video. Within seconds, you heard a voice talking over your shoulder.

“So you’re a singer?” The voice asked. You jumped, almost managing to fall out of the chair. You felt a pair of strong arms catch you and keep you from falling.

Finally, you got a chance to look at the source of the voice. You had been prepared for it to be some creepy guy, but you were wrong.

So wrong.

The guy was cute and had the most perfect smile. You were speechless. You froze, and your brain shut off.

“Hi, uh sorry about that. I’m Shawn. It’s just, your headphones are unplugged. I was going to tell you and I realized it was you singing. I’m sorry I scared you” he said, kindly. You had to pinch yourself to realize this was all real. “I...uh hi. I’m Y/N. I was just zoned out, it’s not your fault. But hi, I’m Y/N” you rambled.

His smile made your stomach do flips. You felt like you were on a rollercoaster.

“Yeah, you said that already” Shawn said, chuckling. It was endearing. He wasn’t laughing at you, he was just amused by the cute girl who was stuttering over her words.

You didn’t know it then, but he thought you were adorable.

You thought the exact same thing about him.

The story went on. You two became great friends. You never got the courage to mention your little crush on him, but time went on.

As you both got busier, you started to drift apart. Eventually you just stopped talking. Any time you heard his songs on the radio or saw an article about him, it just pulled on your heart strings.

But now he was texting you.

Hey, Y/N. I know it’s been a while, well maybe longer than a while. It feels like forever. Anyway, I was wondering if you wanted to meet up and talk. I really miss you

You were stunned. You could barely comprehend what you were reading.

It felt like a crazy dream, and you were about to wake up any second now.

You picked up your phone and tried to come up with a reply. It was harder than you thought it would be. How did you put years worth of feelings into just a few sentences?

Hi! It has been forever, I miss our late night runs for ice cream. I would love to hang out and catch up. I want to hear about all that I’ve missed. I hope you’re doing well!!

You pressed send and your heart leaped out of your chest. You could hear your heart thumping in your ears.

As you sat there waiting for a reply, it felt like years. In reality, it was probably five minutes.

Then, your phone dinged.

Awesome! You want to come over to my place in like an hour?

You almost jumped out of your chair. You couldn’t believe you were finally going to see Shawn after all these years. You sent a quick reply and then headed to your closet to get dressed.

You grabbed some clothes to change into and then proceeded to change your outfit four more times. Finally, you had settled on the best option. You checked the clock and saw that it was time to go.

You grabbed your phone and your keys and then headed to Shawn’s apartment.

You found yourself outside his front door, unable to move. You wanted to pick up your hand and knock on the door, but you couldn’t. Every time that you got close, you chickened out.

It had been years since you had seen Shawn. What if he changed? What if he didn’t like you anymore? What if you embarrassed yourself?

Every time another one of thoughts popped in your head, it became harder to try to knock on that door.

You took a deep breath and tried to still your shaking hands. You felt a small moment of confidence. Before it went away, you quickly knocked on the door.

Your pulse quickened. You felt the extreme urge to just run away. Before you could do that, the door opened.

There he was.

He looked different in person. Magazines and social media had been the only place you saw him for years. Now, three feet in front of you, you were almost shocked that he was three dimensional.

“Hi” was all you get out.

You were absolutely frozen.

“Hey” he said, slowly. He seemed to also be at a loss for words.

You looked him up and down, taking in all of his features. His hair was longer now. His shoulders were broader and he was so much more muscular now.

You were almost drooling over his arms in the tight shirt. Your lingering gaze left his body and you met his eyes.

Small smiles appeared on both of your faces. He grabbed your hands and pulled you into a hug. His tight embrace was comforting. His strong arms around you made your heart swoon.

After a while, you both pulled away. Once again, you couldn’t get rid of the grin on your face. “So how have you been?” He asked, looking into your eyes.

You started to tell him about major changes in your life that he had missed. While you were talking, his hand naturally slipped into yours. He gave your hand a reassuring squeeze as you spoke.

Your heart was racing at the speed of sound. It felt like a dream. There was no way you could really be standing in front of Shawn after all these years.

“It’s so good to finally see you again. I’ve actually been wanting to ask you something” Shawn said, after you finished talking. You were immediately intrigued, but also worried.

“And what is that?” You asked, rocking back and forth on your feet. “I was wondering if you would want to collab on a song sometime. I really love your music, and it would awesome to work with you” he told you, honestly.

You were taken aback. “I would love to. Is that why you invited me? To use me for monetary gain?” You teased him, giggling. He chuckled and shook his head. “No, that’s not why I wanted to see you again” he said, with a certain sparkle in his eyes.

You started gazing into his eyes, and it became harder and harder to stop. You didn’t notice, but you both started to step closer together. What you did notice was Shawn carefully placing his hand on your waist. He did it so lightly that you almost thought you imagined the lingering touch.

Before you both started to lean in, there was a loud commotion outside the front door. You both quickly jumped away like teenagers caught doing something mischievous.

Shawn sighed and headed towards the door to check who it was. He looked through the peephole and then quickly backed up. You were confused by his urgency.

“Who is it?” You asked, curiously. He didn’t answer you right away. He walked over to a wall and quickly closed the curtains. “The paparazzi are here” he said, walking back over to you.

“Well then I guess you’re stuck with me until they leave” you said, smiling as you walked over to the couch. You plopped down on the couch, and Shawn joined you seconds later.

“So do you want to watch a movie because you’re going to be stuck here?” He asked you, grabbing the remote.

You nodded and leaned your head on his shoulder. He didn’t expect you to do it, but he leaned into your touch. He pressed play on a movie and then put his arm along the back of the couch.

Slowly, as the movie continued, his arm moved from the couch to your shoulders. The way he transitioned was so natural, like he was used to having his arm around you. It felt good, and was definitely something you could get used to.

The movie became dull, and you glanced up at Shawn. You found yourself admiring his features as he watched the screen.

Then he caught you.

He looked down into your eyes. You felt your cheeks heat up as you were caught. “Hi you” he said, sweetly. You just smiled and then cuddled further into his side.

“Hey wait. I wanted to ask you about something?” Shawn said, pausing the movie.

You looked back up at him. It was hard to not smile. You always felt happy when you were around Shawn.

“So, I know that we haven’t seen each other in years, but there’s been something I’ve always wanted to tell you. Since the day we first met, I have—” Shawn started to say before he was interrupted.

Your phone loudly started ringing. It distracted you from what he was saying. You glanced down at your phone. It was your mom calling.

“I’m so sorry. It’s my mom, I have to take this” you said, apologetically setting one of your hands on Shawn's. He nodded. He was always so understanding.

You quickly answered the phone. Before you could say hello, your mom started interrogating you.

“Are you and Shawn finally together?” She asked, very quickly. You were taken aback by the question and also how fast she had asked that. “Uhh...no. Why would you think that?” You asked her, confused.

“The pictures are everywhere. It’s you walking into his house, and there’s a picture of you two hugging. All the tabloids are saying you two are together. I know that I shouldn’t trust tabloids, but I’ve always wanted you two to date. You are both so great together. Plus, he’s very handsome. So, you have good taste” your mom rambled, only stopping when she ran out of breath.

“Woah woah woah. Slow down. I promise you, Shawn and I are not dating” you assured your mom. Only then, Shawn started to listen to what you were saying. He had been trying not to listen or eavesdrop, but you were right next to him.

He just smirked at you. You saw it and rolled your eyes at him, as you tried to hold back from laughing.

Eventually, your mom said she believed you and hung up the phone. “I’m sorry about that. She started listening to the tabloids” you explained to him. He chuckled as he looked at his own phone. “That’s okay. All my friends are texting me about it too” he told you, smiling.

“Well then I guess you’re stuck with me as your fake girlfriend” you said, sticking your tongue out at him. He put his arm around you and then you leaned your head on his shoulder. “I’ve missed you” he said, softly.

You started to trace shapes on the back of his hand. “I’ve missed you too” you said, at the same volume.

You felt Shawn kiss your temple and you felt the heat rush to your face.

“So what were you going to ask me before?” You asked him, giving him your full attention. Just as he was about to tell you, there was a loud knocking at the front door.

Shawn groaned and then stood up. He walked over to the door. He looked through the peephole and just sighed.

“Hang on a minute” he said to you. Then, he opened the door. You couldn’t see the door from where you were sitting. “Hey there sweetheart” you heard a girl say, and your blood ran cold.

Did Shawn have a girlfriend? You had never even brought it up. You felt so stupid. Of course he had a girlfriend. It had been years. You had been sitting here hoping he would make a move, but he was taken. He was gorgeous, any girl would be lucky to date him.

“Ashley. What do you want? We broke up. Stop acting like it didn’t happen” Shawn said, sternly. It threw you even farther off guard. You didn’t want to get your hopes up, but it seemed like Shawn was actually single.

“I just saw on Twitter that coffee shop girl was here before. If you are dating, I want you to know that you can do better. I’m still single and you know I’m hotter than her. Just come here and kiss me so all those paparazzis will know you’re mine again” you heard Ashley said.

You felt disgusted listening to her talk. She was being really rude to both you and Shawn. “Goodbye Ashley. Go ruin somebody else’s day” Shawn said, closing the door.

He walked back over to you. He looked defeated. “So that was...?” You asked. “My ex-girlfriend. I know, bad idea” he said. You didn’t know what to say.

Shawn cursed under his breath. He looked furious. You stood up and walked over to him. “Hey it’s okay. It’s no big deal. We’ll just move on. You don’t have to worry about it” you said, trying to console him. You didn’t know why he was so upset of all a sudden.

“No, it’s not okay, Y/N” he snapped at you. You jumped away from him. You visibly flinched. His eyes softened when he saw you back away. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have shouted, it’s not your fault” he said, hanging his head low.

“It’s just— I’ve tried to kiss you three times today, or at least just tell you how I feel. Every time that I try, something gets in the way. I haven’t seen you in years and I just want get this off my chest. I feel like we have something special. I don’t know if you feel it too, or I’m just crazy. I really just want to kiss you, but I’m afraid something will get in the way if I try” he confessed.

You were shocked. This was the last thing you expected him to say. You had always wished that your connection was more than just friends, but you had always second guessed it. You always assumed that you were just making it up.

“Well, there’s nothing stopping you now” you said, coyly. He quickly looked up to meet your eye contact. He looked unsure, so you made the first move.

You walked towards Shawn and placed your hands on his chest. “What are you waiting for?” You asked him. That was all the clarity he needed.

He instantly connected your lips and wrapped his arms around your waist. It felt perfect. That sounds cliche and unrealistic, but the mixture of years of feelings and yearning made the perfect combination.

You both pulled away and couldn’t look away from each other’s eyes. “I guess I should call my mom back and tell her I lied” you said, giggling.

taglist: @laurakirsten0502 @miraclesoflove @nathaliabakes @millipop18 @azghedaheda @shyinadarkplace @ashwarren32 @impossibleapricotlampbat @lukes-orange-beanie

Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist for all my imagines or for a specific character/fandom!!

Requests OPEN

[binunus]

injury | cha eunwoo

a/n ~im a simp for eunwoo, you’re a simp for eunwoo, let’s be simps for eunwoo~

LMFAO anyway this is the first week w/o true beauty and yes as much as suho’s character was a bit toxic, he was end game and that’s it !! also eunwoo bb worked so hard :’) no one can deny eunwoo’s superb acting skills alright !! and if they do they boutta catch these hands. so here’s a cute little something of basketball player!eunwoo bc im in love with him

pls watch handsome tigers or this tik tok if you wanna indulge in basketball player!eunwoo bc everyone should at least once in their life

→ pairing: basketball player!eunwoo x athletic trainer!reader

→ genre: fluff, lil angst

→ word count: 5.1k ________________________________________________

Your POV

One thing you didn’t expect when you applied to be a student athletic trainer for the university basketball team was to end up dating one of their star players, but here you were: holding hands with Cha Eunwoo–the starting shooting guard–as you two walked into the basketball court. 

He gave you a smile and a kiss to the cheek before going off to join his teammates in stretching. You let out a content sigh, watching as he happily greeted the other basketball players, and then went over to the other student trainers. 

Usually, you wouldn’t have much to do since the boys were just practicing, but there was someone new joining today, so you and the other trainers had to give her a little rundown on what she signed up for. 

“-mostly we just tape up and ice the guys if they have an injury or a muscle strain, but yeah that should be about it. Simple, right?”

The new girl nodded, eyes trained on the court as the team just started their warmups. “Who’s that? Number 97 is hot–”

“And dating y/n.” One of the male trainers, and yours and Eunwoo’s close friend, Rocky said, narrowing his eyes at the new girl as he rested his elbow on your shoulder. “So don’t even think of any ideas to–”

“Rocky,” You scolded hitting his stomach, “Don’t be rude.”

The girl gave you a once over, an uncomfortable smile on your face, as her eyes met yours. “Ah...well, you must have an amazing personality, y/n!”

You were taken aback, did she just call you ugly? You forced a laugh, trying your best not to quip back at her. Rocky, though, had no restraints, “Clearly a better one than yours.”

Before the new girl could respond, the head trainer called her over, a huge sigh of relief coming from you. Rocky clicked his tongue as he stared at her back, “She’s not going to last long with us. I don’t get why you’re so timid when others are clearly insulting you, y/n.”

You rolled your eyes at him. When it came to your friends, it was definitely Rocky and Myungjun who were not afraid to be bold about what they were thinking. “Eunwoo and I have been dating for more than a year now, you don’t think I’m used to people always saying that my boyfriend is out of my league? I just try to ignore it now Rocky c’mon, I know how Eunwoo feels about me and that’s enough.” 

“Damn hyung’s handsome face.” The younger male shook his head. You chuckled, the two of you taking a seat on the bench and conversing as the basketball practice went on. During water breaks, Eunwoo would come over to where you and Rocky were sitting, chatting it up with you two in brief increments before resuming practice. He would always pucker his lips up for a peck before leaving, which you would definitely grant and Rocky would pretend to be disgusted.

By the end of their practice, you managed to successfully avoid the new girl, waiting outside the locker room like you always do after bidding Rocky goodbye. Eunwoo smiled once he saw you, immediately draping his arm around your shoulders as he kissed your temple in greeting. “Baby, I’m hungry.”

“Mmm, you want to eat out or order in?” You asked looking up at him.

“Order in, I’m tired.” He said, the two of you already making your way to his car.

--

As soon as you two arrived back at Eunwoo’s apartment, he immediately plopped down on the couch. You chuckled, lightly smacking his butt, “Baby, go take a shower first, you’re sweaty.”

“Wanna take one with me?” He asked blinking his big beautiful eyes at you. You grinned, the offer was tempting, but you already took a shower earlier today and you wanted to order this food as soon as possible. Eunwoo pouted as you shook your head in rejection, getting up to go the bathroom looking like a kicked puppy. 

You turned on the television to whatever variety show was on at the moment, barely paying attention as you were looking through the food delivery app on your phone. You turned your head as Bin walked out of his bedroom, no doubt having just woken up from a nap.

“Oh? You guys are back.” He said sleepily, waving to you.

“Binnie, we’re ordering for dinner, do you want something?” You asked offering him your phone, a laugh leaving you at the boost of energy he received from the word ‘dinner’

“You know a way to man’s heart, y/n.” Bin said jokingly as he started looking through the menu. “By the way, Rocky texted me about that new trainer–rude ass bitch.”

“God you guys spread gossip faster than girls.” You said amused, “I told him earlier, I’m used to people saying stuff like that. It’s whatever.”

“I guess, but you know how sad Eunwoo will be if he finds out this is still going on?” Bin said handing you your phone back. “We’ve been telling you this since the beginning, don’t let other people’s opinions get to you. You’re attractive, y/n! And to Eunwoo, you’re the most beautiful person in the world.”

You smiled, touched by his words of comfort, “Thanks Binnie, ah where would me and Eunwoo be without all of your guys’ support?”

“Nowhere because he wouldn’t have had the balls to confess to you if it wasn’t for us.” He scoffed heading to the bathroom.

“Change your mind, baby?”

“You better stay in the shower! I don’t wanna see your dick while I’m peeing.”

You laughed at their interaction, your attention shifting to the television as you patiently waited for your food and company. Within 30 minutes, the three of you were happily stuffing yourselves full with the takeout, talking up a storm while watching tv. You leaned back against the couch when you felt your stomach capacity maxed out, hands perched on your belly as you groaned, “I can’t eat anymore.”

They looked at you in amusement, Bin laughing while Eunwoo rested his hand on your knee, a fond smile on his face as he told you he’ll finish up your leftovers. The two boys then got engrossed in their own conversation of sorts, you listening quietly to the side as the food coma started to kick in. Somewhere in the midst of their conversation, you settled behind Eunwoo, legs draped next to his body as you snaked your arms around his waist, resting your head on his back. He hummed, still chewing on his food as he took one of your hands and squeezed it. 

You started to zone out, their dialogue beginning to sound like a bunch of nonsensical noise. Bin looked over to where you were laying, “I think y/n’s about to knock out.” 

Your boyfriend turned his body to get a glimpse of you, grinning as you whined from the shift in movement. He changed your positions so that you were leaning next to his side, his arm around your waist as you rested your head on his shoulder. “Food coma?”

You nodded, snuggling into his side to get comfortable. Bin watched the two of you with a smile, scooping up the last of his food before clapping his hands, “Well! you guys being all cuddly is making me miss my bub...so see you lovebirds tomorrow!”

You snort, eyes still closed as you respond to him, “Aren’t they hanging out with Eunbi right now? I saw it earlier on their Instagram story.”

He shrugs, gathering up the trash, “I’m going to crash their hangout because I want to cuddle too. Have fun you two, good night sweet dreams, use protection...or not, be a little spicy!”

Eunwoo rolls his eyes as he picks up a throw pillow and chucks it at his roommate, “Alright bye Binnie.”

It takes all but five minutes before Bin leaves the apartment. The moment you two were alone, Eunwoo immediately tightened his hold, practically pulling you onto his lap as he laid you both down on the couch, spooning you from behind. You let out a smile, hands on top of his as he kissed your shoulder, “You ran a lot today baby, are your legs okay?”

He cutely nods his head, his chin lightly digging into your skin, “My calves are a bit tight, but I’ll probably just roll them out at the gym tomorrow.”

You hummed, rubbing his arm, “Do you want me to massage your legs?”

“It’s okay baby, we’re both tired. I’ll just do it tomorrow.” He said, not wanting to move from the couch any time soon. You chuckled, turning around so that you faced him, your eyes finally blinking open, “If you wait until tomorrow, your calves are gonna be stiff and sore, you might get a muscle cramp. C’mon baby.”

He kissed your nose in response, “You were literally about to knock out from a food coma five minutes ago.”

“The feeling comes and goes,” You grinned, moving to stand up from the couch. Eunwoo pouted at your absence, but followed your movement anyway, taking your hand as you led him to his bedroom. He obediently laid face down on his bed, waiting as you searched his room for the roller stick. “Can we cuddle after?”

“Yes,” You laughed, giving him a kiss before you sat down next to his legs. “Baby, this is your perk for dating an athletic trainer. I need to make sure you’re in tip top shape.”

“But rolling calves always hurt.” Eunwoo whined, already wincing as you started to apply pressure under the back of his knee. You tried to be gentle at first before really going in with stretching his calf muscles, “that’s because your calves are the tensest muscles in the body, they’re put under a lot of strain and pressure from walking and running so it hurts when you try to relax them.”

“I love when you talk medical to me,” He sighs dreamily. You roll your eyes, pressing down hard on the meat of his calves. You felt bad when Eunwoo started letting out complaints of pain, trying to talk him through it and distract him from the pressure on his legs. “Ow ow baby! It hurts!”

“I know I know, almost done baby, I promise.” You said gently, rolling the stick thoroughly over both calves a couple more times, trying to get rid of all the deep knots that accumulated in his muscles. After deciding that he’s suffered through enough with the stick, you put it to the side and began kneading the heels of your palms through his skin, stimulating his muscles gently after the harsh rolling session. Your hands slowly moved north until they landed on his shoulders, briefly massaging the knots out in his neck as well. You ended up laying next to him, cooing cutely as you pressed a kiss to his cheek, “all done.”

Your boyfriend smiled, pulling you into his chest as he kissed your forehead, “thank you baby.”

“You better not ask any of the other trainers to do this for you,” You pouted, a little bubble of jealousy coming up from the earlier situation at the gym. “Except Rocky, maybe.”

Eunwoo scoffed, running his hands through your hair as he met your eyes, “I would much rather have you give me a massage than Rocky. And hey, you better not offer this treatment to the other guys too or I’ll get jealous. You’re my trainer.” 

“Deal.” You grinned hugging him tightly, all feelings of jealousy quenched.

--

Game days always had a specific schedule to be followed. In the morning, you two were free to do whatever you pleased, but it always ended up with the two of you procrastinating in bed until 11 am. Eunwoo always ate a high-protein high-calorie meal whenever he had games and today’s lunch was no different. After eating, the two of you began to get ready, which included showering and getting dressed.

Today you wore a simple set of jeans a black crop top, finishing your look with the university sports quarter zip, which you were required to wear for every game. After tying your hair up, you turned to your boyfriend who was just starting to dress himself. You took a seat on his bed, marveling at how attractive he looked as he slipped on his jersey and shorts. “I’ll never get over seeing you in your uniform, baby.”

He grinned, placing his arms on either side of your body as he hovered over you, leaning down for a kiss. You expected it to be short and sweet, but Eunwoo had different ideas, lips still working against yours as your back gave in, laying down on the bed. You whined as one of his hands took place on your waist, rubbing at the exposed skin, “Mm, baby, we have to leave soon.”

“I know,” he said moving his lips down your jaw, “I just wanted to kiss you.”

“You can kiss me all you want after your game.” You lightly chuckled, wrapping your arms around his torso in a hug. He nodded, face buried in your neck as he dug his hands under your body, hugging you tightly. You hummed, caressing his hair soothingly, “Are you nervous?”

“A little, I’m always nervous before a game, baby.” Eunwoo said pressing a kiss to your collarbone, “You’ll cheer me on, right?”

“Always,” You said patting his back, “C’mon, we should start heading out soon.”

He nodded, reluctantly getting off of you and pulling your body up with him. You offered your boyfriend a cheerful smile, reaching up to fix the bangs out of his eyes before cupping his cheeks, shaking his face in between your hands, “You’re going to do amazing today baby, as always.”

Eunwoo smiled at your action, pecking your lips again before the two of you did a last-minute search around his room for your belongings. After getting all that you needed, the two of you bid Bin goodbye, telling the swimmer that you’ll see him at the court later. You took your place in the driver’s seat, wanting Eunwoo to just relax for the short drive to the gymnasium. You dropped him off at the entrance first before going to find parking, having Eunwoo arrive early was more important than your arrival anyway. 

As soon as you walked into the court, the players were already doing their stretches, your boyfriend in the midst of them all. You glanced at him briefly before greeting the other trainers, the group of you having a quick pre-game discussion of roles before being dismissed to do your own things. 

You actively try to avoid the new girl as the time draws closer to the start of the game, not wanting your energy to get dampered. By now, the other team has already arrived and the stands were slowly starting to fill up. You were seated calmly behind the bench, trying to pass the time on your phone, before your boyfriend took the space next to you, hand automatically going on top of your knee. “You ready?”

“As much as I can be,” He grinned rubbing your kneecap, “Wanna come with me to fill up my water bottle?”

You nod, you weren’t doing anything anyway. The male immediately drapes his arm over your shoulders as the two of you walk to the water station, the two of you already getting excited about your dinner plans after the game. The rest of your friends would be joining you, no doubt, as you already spotted them near the front of the student seating. 

You were in such a good mood, anticipating the start of what was going to be a good game. Your university was going against their rivals, so expectations for both teams were high. You and Eunwoo were leisurely walking back to the court, he still had a couple more minutes before he needed to join his team. 

“Hey, you’re Eunwoo, right? I don’t think we’ve met before. I’m Hana, the new student trainer. You’re really good at playing!” The girl said walking up to the two of you. You immediately felt your body stiffen at her appearance, trying not to let it show to your boyfriend. He gives the new girl a polite smile, “Ah thank you.”

“If you need anything, I’ll be more than happy to help you.” She said batting her eyelashes sweetly at him. You pursed your lips tightly, jealousy easily building up inside of you. Eunwoo only laughed awkwardly, “I appreciate it, but y/n’s got everything handled when it comes to me, right baby?”

You nod, trying your hardest not to punch Hana in the face at her blatant attempt to flirt with your boyfriend right in front of you. Eunwoo noticed your discomfort immediately, removing his hand from where it was interlocked with yours before slipping it around your waist, squeezing the skin gently. “Well, it was nice meeting you Hana, but I should go back to the team...I’ll look at you when I need good luck, baby, hm?”

You manage to crack a smile, a little laugh leaving you when he puckered his lips out for a kiss. You step on your tiptoes, granting his wish quickly, before pushing him out towards the court. You turn towards Hana and give her a forced smile before searching for Rocky. 

You weren’t surprised to find him in the bleachers, sitting and chatting amongst your group of friends. You go and join them with a light feeling in your chest, greeting the other four of them with hugs.

“How are you doing y/n? You excited?” Jinjin asked as you take a seat next to him.

“Yeah! I mean the guys have a really good chance of winning this one, it’s gonna be a good game.” You smiled clasping your hands together. Rocky only scoffed as he pointed at you, “Bitch, I saw Hana approaching you and Eunwoo hyung, spill.”

You throw the younger male a joking glare, “Nothing gets past you, huh?”

Bin immediately cringed at her name, hand palming his forehead, “Oh God, what did she do?”

You shrugged passively, “She just introduced herself to him and said that if he needed anything, she’ll gladly help him or whatever.”

The boys groaned in response, Sanha reaching over Jinjin to tap your leg, “And? What did hyung say?”

“He let her down gently and said that he goes to me if he needs anything–”

“As he should!” Myungjun said indignantly, crossing his arms in annoyance. Jinjin only nodded, “Good boy.”

“If she even tries to homewreck y/n, just say the word and I’ll scream at her!” Myungjun said in all seriousness. You laugh at his claim, “thanks guys, but I think Eunwoo made it pretty obvious to her so it’s fine.”

The youngest sighed giving you a pout, “You’re too nice, y/n.”

“That’s what I’m saying,” Rocky said agreeing with Sanha, “If I was you and someone was flirting with my partner, I’d clock them right in the face.”

“Hey, I wanted to–”

“You should have,” Bin sighed, “What a shame, maybe next time.”

“I usually don’t advocate for violence, but I’d turn a blind eye for this, y/n.” Jinjin agreed. You rolled your eyes at them, “You know, as much as I love to sit here and get lectured, Rocky and I have to go down to the trainer section.”

“We’ll see you guys later!” Rocky said as the two of you stand to go to the bench, taking your seats with the other trainers–and as far away from Hana as you could. 

The game was already intense from the tip-off, both sides in a tight match to get a starting lead. The cheers from the stands were just as heightened, giving energy to both sides during baskets or free throws. Their plays started to get rougher from the beginning of the second half, more and more fouls getting called on both teams. 

You and the trainers were busy as well, assessing each player during substitutions and icing whenever they came back to the bench. By the third quarter, your team established a good six-point lead, the energy of your section high from Eunwoo’s back-to-back 3 pointers. 

You could distinctly hear Myungjun’s scream as he shouted Eunwoo’s name, a laugh coming from the bench at his volume. You hid your face in Rocky’s back, second hand embarrassment coming from the two of you at your friends’ loud cheering tactics.

You even spotted Eunwoo letting out a smile as both sides prepared for a free throw, your boyfriend giving a thumbs up to the guys in acknowledgement. His gaze then shifted onto you, your cheeks flushing as he shot you a heart-fluttering wink, a smile gluing itself onto your face.

You watched with pride as his concentration zeroed back in on the game, his team playing impeccable defense as they raced to your side of the court. After a couple back and forth relays, your team was on offense, trying to calm down the tensions as they strategized their next play.

It all happened so fast. The opponents stole the ball from your point guard, commencing a fast break. Eunwoo sped across court, the defense of your team depending on him and another player. 

“Eunwoo–screen!”

He followed the instructions of his teammate well, placing his body in front of the opponent as he tried to defend your team’s basket. Unfortunately, the momentum of the other player was too much, both players roughly colliding and falling on the court. 

You gasped in horror, immediately standing up from your seat as the referee blew the whistle to stop the play. Your teeth dug into your lower lip in worry as Eunwoo remained on the floor, clutching his waist in pain as some players and the referees surrounded him. The head trainer jogged onto the court, kneeling in front of Eunwoo to ask if he was okay. 

The gymnasium was quiet, looking on to the scene that was unfolding in the center of the floor. Slowly, the trainer helped Eunwoo stand up, your boyfriend leaning his weight on the male as he limped off to the side, the coach substituting in the other shooting guard in place of Eunwoo. Both sides started clapping in respect, as they always do when someone gets injured during a play. 

The head trainer looked to the group of you, “someone help me with Eunwoo.”

Before you could even respond, Hana beat you to the chase raising her hand, “I can help.”

“y/n,” Eunwoo said, eyes only on you. The head trainer looks between you and Hana, sighing, “Decide amongst yourselves, and fast.”

“It’ll give me more experience-”

“No, I want y/n.” Eunwoo said seriously, not even giving her a chance. The head trainer ushers you over, your feet finally taking a step with the help of Rocky pushing you forward. You accidentally shove Hana out of your way as you approach Eunwoo and the trainer, taking some of your boyfriend’s weight as the three of you walk to the locker room.

Once in the locker room, the head trainer immediately started assessing Eunwoo’s waist, trying to determine whether he needed to be sent to the hospital for a scan. Quickly and quietly, you follow the trainer’s lead, offering your assistance when he needed it. All the while, you hold Eunwoo’s hand as your boyfriend was trying not to think of the pain in his lower back.

“Do you think you can walk, Eunwoo?”

“I don’t know, there’s a sharp pain in my waist if I try to turn my body.” Eunwoo said attempting to rotate his upper half.

“No no no, don’t move. Let’s get you to the hospital to make sure there isn’t anything broken.” He sighed taking out his phone to call the medical team, “y/n, I’m sure you’ll be accompanying your boyfriend. Text me Eunwoo’s updates, okay?”

You nodded, briefly leaving Eunwoo’s side to gather both his and your things. Within the next five minutes, a group of EMTs entered the locker room, lifting Eunwoo onto a stretcher and rolling him to an ambulance, you following closely behind. 

You didn’t say much on the way too the hospital, your mind too preoccupied with worry and thinking about the worst-possible scenario for your boyfriend. Even when you arrived at the hospital, Eunwoo was immediately whisked away to get some scans and X-rays done, you being escorted to the waiting room in the meantime. It seemed like forever until a nurse approached you, leading you to the room where Eunwoo was being held. 

You let out a sigh upon seeing him, almost being moved to tears as he offered you a smile, “You’re smiling? Cha Eunwoo, I oughta–”

“Baby, I’m okay.” He chuckled lightly, hand outstretched to meet yours. You frowned, putting both of your bags down to the side as you took a seat by his bedside, “Are you okay? What did the doctor say? I need to update the trainer and your coach too.”

“Nothing’s broken,” He said first, attempting to ease some of your anxiety. “The doctor said I had a nasty fall that bruised my coccyx so there’s a lot of inflammation to the area. They gave me some pain medication so I don’t really feel anything right now, but I should be discharged tomorrow. And then he gave me a referral to a chiropractor who I’ll see in about two days. But baby, I’m okay, promise.”

“You can’t play though,” You said softly, hands fiddling with his fingers, “I feel like I’m more upset than you.”

“I played hard today so I don’t regret anything.” He said simply, “it sucks that I couldn’t finish the game, but injuries are a part of being an athlete, you know that baby. Besides, from what the doctor said, I shouldn’t be out for too long, maybe just a game or two. I told him I’m in especially good hands because you’re gonna take care of me.”

You said nothing, still not fully believing that he’s taking this situation so well. “Baby...give me a smile, hm? I’ll feel much better if I see you smiling.”

Mustering up the brightest smile that you could, you finally looked up at his face. His features only softened, knowing that you were trying your best to stay strong for him, “Are you still worried?”

“Baby, you’re in the hospital.” You said as if stating the obvious, “How could I not be worried?” 

“You’re so cute being all worried about me,” He teased squeezing your hand. You scoffed, finally easing up a little at his flirting. “You laughed! I heard you laugh just now!”

“You’re annoying,” You said as you took out your phone to give the head trainer updates on Eunwoo’s condition. After you pressed send, you immediately received a call from Sanha, “Hello?”

“Is Eunwoo hyung okay?!” “Is he dying?!” “Eunwoo no he’s too young to die!”

You flinched at their loud volume, turning your phone on speaker so that you and Eunwoo could both respond to their chatter. “Guys, he’s not dying.”

“I’m okay,” He laughed taking your phone. “Hold on, did we win?”

“Are you fucking serious? That’s what you wanna know?!” Myungjun scolded into the phone. You chuckled, the guys talking over each other again as they announced they were on the way to the hospital. “They never said if we won or not.”

“I guess you’ll find out when they arrive.” You said, patting his cheek as you stood, removing your sweater. “Do you want some water, baby? I could go get some.”

He shook his head, puckering up his lips for something else. “Please? I’m injured.”

“You’re going to use this to your advantage, aren’t you?” You asked leaning down to grant him a quick kiss. “Maybe.”

After handing Eunwoo his phone, you went to the bathroom for a little bit before coming back and taking a seat on the hospital bed that he so highly encouraged. “If we get scolded by the nurse, I’m blaming it on you.”

“It’s not like you’re laying in bed with me, baby. We’ll be fine.” He said putting his hand on your thigh. He rubbed your cloth of your jeans gently, thinking to himself as you responded to messages on your phone. “Baby, you know I love you, right?”

You made a sound of confusion, looking up from your phone and meeting his eyes, “Hm? Of course I do. I love you too. Why, all of a sudden?”

“Just, when Hana was talking to us earlier and when she volunteered to try and help, I could see that you were uncomfortable.” Eunwoo said gently, “It annoyed me too, to be honest. Like what else did I need to do to show that I’m dating you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” You said stroking his hair, “I’m used to people thinking that they can steal you away just because they’re prettier than me or more handsome than me or whatever. It doesn’t bother me that much anymore, baby––and it shouldn’t bother you too.”

“That’s so fucked up, y/n, how can that not bother me?” He frowned. “You are the most attractive person in my eyes, baby. If anyone pulls this shit again, I swear I won’t let it slide.”

“I know,” You said quietly, kissing his cheek. “I love you.”

“And I love you,” Eunwoo said, “I don’t want you to ever forget that y/n, you’re mine and no one can do anything to change that.”

“Mmm, I’m lucky that you and the guys always defend me, aren’t I?” You lightly smiled, “God, you have no idea how many times Rocky cursed Hana out in the past week.”

“As he should,” Eunwoo nodded kissing the back of your hand, “see, this is why they’re my friends.”

“Speaking of our friends.” You said looking at the door, “I can hear them coming.”

Your boyfriend chuckled, both of your attentions at the door, which shortly was opened by five boisterous guys. The sound in the hospital room suddenly increasing tenfold at their appearance, all five of them crowding and fussing around the bed. You giggled, sharing a look with Eunwoo as the guys started talking all at once. He grinned, listening until the end of their rambles. Although he was injured, Eunwoo noticed that he couldn’t be feeling any happier. He had no doubt that he would have a speedy recovery, especially if you and his best friends were right by his side. _______________________________________

2-12-21

[snackhobi]

pairing: jungkook x (gender neutral) reader / word count: 20k / genre: fluff (author!reader, florist!jungkook)

summary: “You’re in love and you didn’t tell me?” Jimin sounds affronted. “Who is it? Are they cute? Where are you hiding them? I knew you were lying about those flowers, you lying liar.” or: the story of how you meet a pretty florist with soft hands and warm eyes, how he mends your broken heart, and how he helps you realise some other things along the way.

warnings: use of a few curse words, reader is self-deprecating and suffering from heartache towards the beginning (v mildly angsty ig? but dw it passes), but otherwise this is a Very Soft fic!

--

“It’s time to get up.”

“It absolutely is not.” Your voice is muffled under a layer of pillows and blankets, material pressing down on your body and head, covering you. A protective cocoon. “I’ve become one with my duvet and we shall never be parted.”

You yelp when the blanket is ruthlessly ripped from you. Your curtains have been thrown open and you can feel how the sun is streaming in through your windows, warming your skin, even if you can’t see it; there’s a particularly fluffy pillow smothering your face right now to keep the world outside at bay.

“This has to be against the Geneva convention,” you whine as your collection of pillows is similarly stripped from the bed, leaving you entirely bereft from their comfort and protection. You curl into a tight ball around your Pusheen cushion and try to protect her from Jimin’s grasping fingers— your final bastion of defence against him. “No! Not Pusheen! Please! Take me instead!”

Jimin rolls his eyes before stealing Pusheen right from your arms, ignoring your dramatic sob as she’s pulled from your desperate hands. He tucks the plush grey cat under his arm before fixing you with a stern gaze. “I said it’s time to get up,” he repeats, ignoring the chaos of pillows and blankets and toys now littered around him. “You know the drill, Y/n.”

You suck in a deep breath, filling your lungs with air before letting out a long, weary sigh. All your theatrics disappear with your escaping breath, strength seeping out of you. “A week of wallowing,” you say in a small voice, eyes squeezing shut. “I know.”

You don’t have to look up at Jimin to know what expression is on his face right now. You feel the mattress dip and then soft fingers are gently stroking the hair out of your face. “A week and then we get up.” His voice is soft as he repeats the mantra.

Your cheek drags across the cotton of your sheets as you open your eyes and turn your head into the hand that Jimin’s still drawing down your face. “You’ve always been better at getting back on your feet than me,” you say, and Jimin affectionately pats your cheek.

“You’re being melodramatic,” he says kindly. “You’ve seen me at my worst and you know that’s not true. I’m only good at getting back on my feet because I have you to lift me up, and I’m here for you too.”

“Can I have Pusheen back?” You sound hopeful as you pout at him, pushing your bottom lip out.

“You can have her back once you’ve showered and had breakfast,” Jimin says. 

Your limbs are leaden weights as you drag yourself out of bed. The cold water of your shower shocks some life back into them, and you’re almost back to your regular self once you pull yourself from the bathroom, thoroughly scrubbed and refreshed. Jimin greets you with a fruit smoothie bowl, the most wholesome meal you’ve had in the past week; it’s infinitely healthier than the ice cream and snacks and junk food you’ve been shovelling into your mouth.

“I didn’t realise I had half this stuff in the fridge.” You use your spoon to swirl the oats and fruit into the yoghurt, muddying the pretty rippled effect Jimin had created with it. “I’m guessing you brought it with you?”

Jimin is eating eagerly from his own bowl and swallows down a spoonful of banana and berries before he responds. “No, it was already in there, actually,” he says. 

“Oh, yeah.” Your free hand goes down to Pusheen, who’s safely in your lap, and you dig your fingers into her soft velvet skin. “Of course.”

Your face is twisted into a wince as you look down and continue to knead the cushion on your knees. Seokjin loves fresh produce, taking you to the farmer’s market for organic strawberries and blueberries and raspberries, lifting them up for you to breathe in their bright scent before laughing at how you go cross eyed at how close he brings them to your face. Your fridge must still be full of these reminders of him, food you’d bought for him, things he’d made for you.

“Well!” Jimin’s voice is loud and bright, cutting through your thoughts with all the subtlety of a bull in a china shop. “You better finish up— we’re going out soon and you’ll need all the energy for today!”

You’re immediately on guard, eyes narrowing at him. “Going out where?”

“Shopping, duh,” he says, raising his eyebrows at you. “You said you’d come with me and Namjoon to pick out stuff for our new apartment, remember?”

“Oh yeah.” It’s only been a week and it’s like you’ve forgotten that the world is still moving on around you, taking no notice of how your own world has been upheaved and irreparably fragmented. You know Jimin is being cheery and upbeat in an attempt to distract you from this, and it’s working, but it’s also highlighting exactly how much you’ve been wallowing. You normally never would have forgotten. “Alright, let me finish up and get my shit together and then we can go.”

Getting your shit together takes longer than it should. You have to wade through the piles of blankets on the floor to get to your wardrobe, and the desk in your office is in similar disarray, notes and stationery strewn across its surface from your week long stint of wallowing and writing about said wallowing. 

You’d never planned on the romance in a novel about magic in the modern world to be so depressing, but hey. They always say write what you know and all you know right now is heartbreak.

(“I’m sorry. I just… don’t feel the same.” Jaerim’s voice is soft and gentle, even now, even as he’s breaking Lily’s heart, so tender as it falls apart in his hands. “You’ll always be my best friend, Lily, but nothing more.”

Lily’s smile is pained. “I know,” she says, her own voice small and weak. “I know. I just couldn’t hold it in any longer. I— I had to tell you or I felt like it was going to burst out of me. I’m sorry.”

“I’ll always love you, Lily.” Jaerim sounds sorrowful. “But not the way you want.”

Why had she ever expected anything different?)

You’ve been feeding all of your sadness and heartbreak into your most recent heroine, using your latest novel as a way of catharsis, but the problem is that your stories always have happy endings. Right now Lily may be heartbroken after a failed confession, but at the end of the story she’s going to be happy. You, however, will still be sad and lonely once the book is finished and for all that you project your hopes and wishes onto your main characters, you know your own story will never go so smoothly— real life is never as neat as that.

You pause when you catch sight of one of the Polaroids scattered on your keyboard. Seokjin’s beautiful skin is washed out and there's a glint of red in his eyes from the bright flash of your camera; it's a terrible photo and the focus is all wrong, but he still looks radiant as he smiles at you, ever beautiful. 

The heroes you write are soft and kind and lovely; fierce and strong and admirable; talented and smart and impressive. You, however, are clownish and sarcastic and nonsensical. Just an absolute mess of rough edges and endlessly tangled thoughts. Unwanted. Undesirable. Unlovable.

(No wonder Jin— bright, brilliant, beautiful Jin— doesn’t love you back.)

You swallow and steel yourself before opening the top drawer of your desk to sweep all the littered bits and pieces of your life into it before slamming it shut, trying to ignore how metaphorically fitting it is, and then grab what you came here for in the first place: your camera. You loop the strap of the Polaroid around your neck so that you’re ready for the day ahead. 

You know that Jimin thinks you should just stick to using your phone, considering the piles of film you get through, but there’s something about the whole instant photo process that just works for you. Maybe it’s just a writer/artist thing. Maybe it’s just a you thing. Either way, you like to take your camera everywhere so that you can take photos of things that inspire you and incorporate them into scenes of your stories.

(You have so many photos of Seokjin, and he’s reflected in so many parts of your books— from the jokes that characters tell, to things they eat, to hobbies they have. You may not have ever been so transparent as to project him directly onto the love interests of your main characters before now, but he’s ever present in other ways. There's a part of him in every thing you’ve ever written, even before you fell for him.)

(Your love for him must have been obvious from the start, and yet he’d never mentioned it at all.)

(What made you think it would be a good idea to confess?)

“Y/n?”

You look up from where you’ve been staring at the same bowl for the past three minutes, the leaf pattern stamped into its edge blurring together into eyes that are staring back at you. “Huh? Yeah? What?”

Over Jimin’s shoulder you can see Namjoon trailing around the small store, staring at some pretty wall-hangings with appreciative eyes. For all that Jimin had claimed to be concerned about his boyfriend’s taste in decor, they’ve asked for very little input from you, so you’ve been left alone to zone out for most of the morning and afternoon. 

“I was saying Joonie has a suit fitting he needs to get to, so we were going to get that done before lunch,” Jimin says. “You’re welcome to come along as well if you want?”

“So I can watch someone ask your boyfriend which side his penis hangs down so they can tailor his slacks accordingly? I think I’m good.”

You sound almost like your usual self which is why you think Jimin lets this pass without comment— you’re very happy being independent but it’s true that you’re somewhat more delicate than usual so you understand Jimin’s worry.

“I’ll drop you a message when we’re done.” Jimin smiles at you. Behind him, Namjoon picks up a large ceramic crab, only to immediately drop it onto an incredibly fluffy shag carpet— which fortunately saves it from breaking. “It shouldn’t take too long.”

“Eh, take your time.” You keep hold of Jimin’s attention as Namjoon sheepishly attempts to pick up the crab, only to immediately drop it back onto the rug. “I haven’t been out for a while so I could do with a walk in the fresh air and sunshine. I’m sort of like a dog. Or a plant, I guess. Just with slightly more complex emotions.”

Namjoon has just put the crab back into place by the time Jimin turns around, though his hand lingers on it. “Baby, can we—?”

“You’ve already filled the quota when it comes to crab-themed decorations, Joonie,” Jimin interrupts.

When Namjoon looks at you with imploring eyes, you raise both your hands and step backwards. “Don’t involve me, I’m just an innocent bystander,” you say, before escaping so that Namjoon can (unsuccessfully) try to persuade Jimin to up the amount of sea-life themed decor allowed in their new home.

This part of the city isn’t one you get to often, but it’s really beautiful. You know Namjoon likes it around here, near the river, because there are a lot more offbeat and avant-garde shops than you’d find more centrally, a warren of curiosities and pretty places around each corner. You pass by shops selling antiques, fabric, jewellery; you pause to take photos of the eye-catching doorways into each of the shops, the mismatched bunting fluttering overhead, the utterly eclectic nature of it all. 

You pass by a tiny baking shop and pause in your tracks, peering into the window at a collection of rolling pins— the wood is embossed with different designs that get pressed into the pastry when it’s rolled out, all sorts of pretty patterns on display.

Jin would love these, you think, and then you tear your eyes away.

Stupid. 

You continue to wander through the maze of shops but now you’ve sunk into your own thoughts. Kim Seokjin. A close friend whom you’d been harbouring feelings for, for so long now; it had been getting so hard to try and keep that love at bay, to try and shove it down inside you, keep it hidden and safe. But it had been bleeding out of you at every turn, in the way you moved and spoke and wrote, every sharp edge of you softened by your tenderness for him, impossible to ignore.

And so you’d finally let go. You’d let it out into the world, spoken the words you’d been holding onto for so long— and for a moment, just a moment, you’d had hope. Jin is bright and kind and lovely to everyone, but surely what the two of you had was a little more, a little different; all those hours spent together, the friendship you’d built, the language you’d created with each other of jokes and references that other people didn't understand. You’d thought it was something more.

You’d thought that maybe you could get your storybook ending. That maybe, for once, rather than having to imagine a mutual love and pouring that quiet desire into your books, it could be real— that the cheesy, embarrassing daydreams you’d always kept to yourself and only expressed through your writing could finally come true. 

But no. Jin only loves you as a friend. You know he still considers you a friend, even now, for all that you’ve ruined things by opening your big dumb stupid idiot mouth; you’ve spent a week wallowing after his gentle rejection but you know he’ll still be waiting for you once you come back to yourself. 

You’re just not sure how long that’ll take.

You’re finally pulled out of your reverie when a burst of colour catches your eye. There’s a soft blue bicycle which has been adorned with flowers and trailing leaves, part of a display in the front of a store that’s brimming with blooms, buckets set up in a cascading rainbow of colours. The windows are similarly full of plants, all enjoying the sunshine of the afternoon. Your eyes trail across the flourishing bouquets and then up to the sign, lovely and pretty, in what seems to be a hand-painted cursive: Spring Day.

You have a single, tiny cactus in your office— the only thing you trust yourself to keep alive— but screw it. You’re itching to buy something for yourself and everything seems so pretty in here. You might just buy yourself a fuck-off huge arrangement of flowers, as a sort of metaphor for the death of the hope you’d held in your chest, that your love for Seokjin might be returned. 

That ship has sailed. You’ve cast it off from the shore and set it ablaze. You’re not sure they had bouquets at Viking burials, but it’s the 21st century now. You think you’re allowed to mix it up a bit.

A bell lets out a tiny, crystalline tinkle as you swing the door open, announcing your presence to anyone inside. The front counter is covered in plants, some larger, some smaller, with a few pots of flowers that you would be hard-pressed to name; there’s a glass bowl of water, too, that has unlit rose shaped candles floating in it. Cute.

You peer behind the large leaves of a ficus plant to see if there’s anyone behind the counter but it looks deserted. The only evidence that someone has been here is the book that’s open and resting face down on the wicker chair there— The Language of Flowers, okay, that makes sense, you guess. You take a sneaky photo of the set-up, something about it resonating in your chest; although there’s no one here right now their presence is still undeniable. It’s poetic, in a way. You love visual poetry.

You wave the photo about in the air to help it develop as you make your way towards the back of the shop. Spring Day seems surprisingly big, extending back farther than you had initially thought. It’s hard to gauge the actual size, with displays of flowers and plants everywhere and even hanging from the ceiling above. You meander through the store and pause to touch a hanging glass planter, which slowly spins and scatters light across you. It’s like every spare inch inside is covered, but somehow it doesn’t feel chaotic. It’s so pretty and peaceful here.

There’s clearly some sort of order to things even if you can’t tell what it is. Each display is labelled with the names of the plants and how to look after them, but just as you’re leaning forwards to read one, a noise catches your attention. You pause and tilt your head. Drifting closer to the source of the sound, you realise that it’s someone singing, a soft melody that you don’t recognise. You find that you step lightly, almost enraptured, not wanting to break the serenity of the moment with heavy footfall as you step into a greenhouse; you round the corner to find who’s singing and stop in your tracks. 

There’s a pretty doe-eyed boy bent over a selection of blooms that he’s watering, white and yellow and purple and pink flowers softly trembling at the touch of the drizzle that runs over them, and it almost seems like they’ve turned towards the lilting tones that slip from his lips. You watch as he draws the watering can in a sweeping arc, the motion causing his earrings to move, catching your attention when the sunlight cascading in through the glass of the greenhouse shines off the glinting silver; his hair hangs a little in his eyes, eyelashes fanned across his cheek as he keeps his attention cast downwards, smiling at the flowers on display near his feet.

His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and you can see the definition of his arms, the flex of his muscles under a tattoo as he moves the heavy watering can without effort— and yet he looks like he belongs here, surrounded by flowers and plants and sunlight, soft and neat in his loose shirt, narrow waist cinched in by the ties of his apron. He turns the watering can a little further and you can see that the tattoo looks like a lily, petals unfurled over the soft skin of his inner arm.

You love visual poetry. And this man is poetry in motion.

It seems like he’s finished watering the flowers because he straightens up with a smile, song finally coming to an end. “All done,” he says to them in a quiet voice, and then he finally looks up.

He immediately startles when he sees you, water sloshing audibly in the watering can in his hands. You jump too, surprised at his surprise, the two of you like startled rabbits when you spot each other. Skittering around and trying to recatch your balance.

“Sorry, sorry!” You lift your hands in apology, holding them in front of your face as you wince. “I didn’t want to interrupt, you seemed really focused!”

The florist is blushing. He looks absolutely mortified, a pink flush stealing across his cheeks and the tips of his ears, betraying his embarrassment. “I, uh. It’s fine!” He stammers. “I wasn’t busy. Um. Can I help you?”

Your hands fall back to your sides, your heart immediately going out to this poor boy, who looks like he wants the ground to swallow him up. “I was just looking around, actually, when I heard you singing,” you say. “I didn’t mean to be like— a sort of weird voyeur, I guess? Sorry. Your voice is lovely, by the way.”

The flush has crawled down his neck. “Um, thank you?” You get the feeling he’s only saying this because you’re a customer, and if this were any other circumstance, he would have turned tail and bolted by now. Unfortunately he’s trapped by the fact he works in a retail job and he can’t escape. He shuffles a little from foot to foot as he resolutely avoids your gaze.

You take pity on him. What can you ask to change the topic? Hm. “Can you give me some advice about plants, actually?”

This seems to be the right thing to say. He carefully sets the watering can down, fingers plucking at the ties of his apron as he readjusts them, but he seems a bit more comfortable now that you’ve moved away from complimenting him and onto work related talk. “Sure,” he says. “What would you like to know?”

“I was wondering what sort of plant would be good for someone who’s only good with cactuses. I mean cacti,” you correct yourself. “I’d like something different, but I’m worried about killing it if I forget to water it. You know, the bane of every novice gardener’s existence— their own forgetfulness and ignorance. Of which I have a lot. I am spectacularly ignorant.”

The florist blinks but then he gives you a little smile, finally glancing at you. His eyes are so lovely and deep, sunshine refracting from the greenhouse reflected in his eyes, points of brightness against that endless, warm brown. “I think everyone is guilty of under-watering plants,” he says, apparently unperturbed by how unsuitable you are to be a plant parent. “I think a peace lily might suit you. Would you like to come have a look and see if you’d like one?”

A peace lily. Lily. The name of your most recent novel’s heroine. How weirdly apt. “Sure, I’d love to see the lilies.”

As you follow him you notice that there’s still a little tinge of pink on the back of his neck, evidence of how he must feel embarrassed at being caught singing and talking to plants. You find it endearing, actually, but you’re not about to say this to a stranger, especially as he clearly wants this entire interaction over and done with as quickly as possible.

The peace lily turns out to be a pretty white flower, emerald green foliage curling out from the simple unglazed pot the florist hands over to you with an infinite amount of care. He holds it delicately— it looks so small in his careful hands— and makes sure you’re fully supporting its weight before he finally lets it go. Your fingers brush his as he does and you notice how he draws back immediately, shy.

“You don’t have to water her regularly, you can just touch the soil to see if it’s moist and give it a little top up if it’s not. Even if you forget, as long as you water her when she starts to droop a little she’ll be fine. Just make sure she gets a little sunlight and you wipe down her leaves once or twice a year so dust doesn’t stop her from getting enough light, and you’re good to go.” He’s smiling, but you notice he’s still looking away from you, resolutely staring at the plant in your hands instead. “Peace lilies are incredibly forgiving.”

“Oh, that’s good, I’ll probably be asking for a lot of forgiveness,” you say. “I can guarantee I’ll forget to water her so it’s good to know she can take it.”

When you refer to the plant as ‘her’ and ‘she’— just like the florist has been— it seems like he only just notices that he’s been doing that. He looks a little embarrassed, yet again. “She’ll be— I mean, it’ll be fine, I’m sure,” he says.

“I promise I’ll do my best to look after her.” You tighten your grip protectively around your newly adopted plant. “I’d take a bullet for her.”

The florist lets out a little laugh, revealing a slip of his white teeth before his mouth clicks shut. He looks almost surprised at the fact he’d let out a chuckle and tries to cover it up with a cough. “Hopefully you won’t have to.”

You watch as he draws a ribbon around the pot, looping it against the patterned, unglazed ceramic before tying it into a neat bow. His hands are sure and his motions are practiced, fingers deft as he finishes the knot and tucks a business card into the bag alongside your plant. You can’t help but watch him, magnetised— he’s absolutely fascinating. Cute and soft, but with an undeniable strength to him, underlying each of his movements, almost hidden under the clothes that envelop him.

“Is there anything else I could help you with today?”

He’s blinking at you with those large, pretty eyes. His mouth is still a little open and you can’t help but reminded of—

“What song were you singing earlier? It was so lovely, but I didn’t recognise it.” You want to find that song immediately and keep it close forever, listen to it on a loop, even if it won’t be the same if it’s not being sung in the dulcet tones of this pretty florist. It’s such a beautiful song, whatever it is.

His mouth snaps shut again and the blush returns full force. “Nothing,” he squeaks. “It’s nothing.”

You squint at him. “Is ‘Nothing’ the name of the song?”

“No! It’s. Um. I mean, it doesn’t have a name yet.” His voice is so high right now. You pause before you light up, eyes widening.

“Wait, are you saying it’s your own song? You wrote it? Oh, wow! That’s so cool,” you say. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry, I didn’t know. My bad. Totally understand wanting to keep your work private.” You quirk a smile at him. He doesn't know that you're a writer, one who publishes under a pseudonym for privacy; only your close friends know the truth. You totally get it. “Guess you probably want me to pay so I can get out of your hair now, huh?”

“N-no, it’s fine,” the florist stammers. He’s still so polite, even when he’s obviously flustered.

“Ah, you don’t have to be polite just because I’m a paying customer.” You wave your hand dismissively. Before taking off as an author you’d worked back-to-back retail jobs and it had sucked. “I’m being a pain, I know. How much do I owe you?”

He stays silent as you give him money and he hands over the change, dropping the coins into your outstretched hand. You give him one last smile before lifting your bag from the counter and turning to go, finally leaving this poor man in peace. He must be glad to see the back of you.

But then.

“Magic Shop.” His voice is quiet from behind you.

“Hm?” You pause and glance over your shoulder, confused. “Pardon?”

The handsome florist is looking down at the counter, wrapping an offcut of ribbon around one of his fingers, staring down at it as he does. “Magic Shop,” he repeats, a little louder. He tightens the loop of ribbon around his finger. “The song. I was thinking of calling it that.”

“Oh.” You continue to look at him for a few moments longer before a wide smile crosses over your face. “That’s a really beautiful name for a really beautiful song.”

He glances up from where he’s been staring at the end of his finger flush deep red, almost purple; the ribbon goes lax in his loosening hold and blood rushes back into his fingertip. “Thank you,” he says, bashful as he smiles back at you. “I’m glad you liked it.” 

--

The peace lily takes pride of place on your desk once you’ve cleared it of the crap you’ve let pile up over the past week. She watches as you bend over your keyboard and mutter to yourself, pruning back a lot of the raw hopelessness of your most recently written passages before starting a new chapter.

Lily’s escaped to the neighbouring city to get away from Jaerim and her broken heart. She gets lost as she’s wandering through this new, mysterious place, trapped in a maze of alleyways before she stumbles across a mysterious building with roses climbing up the trellis by the door. The front garden is full of flowers and tended by the prettiest woman she’s ever seen, eyes wide and dark as she startles at Lily’s sudden appearance over the small stone wall. Lily might not know it now but she’s just met someone important and special, a future friend: Yunhee, a witch who can speak to plants and sells dried bundles of herbs and flowers and spells to anyone who finds her.

It’s cheesy and cliché and you know it.

“It’s cheesy and cliché but it’s cute!” Your agent, Hoseok, is as upbeat as always, and he seems genuinely onboard with the snippet you’ve just sent him. “Especially after how sad the chapters were before this one. I think it’s a nice change of pace, considering how heavy your last novel was too.”

“Haha, yeah,” you say. 

Hoseok has no idea about your botched confession to Seokjin and how it had fuelled the subsequent heartbreak you’d put Lily through; you’d put your heroine through the wringer to let all your feelings out, because if you have to suffer, she does too. Especially if she’s going to get a happy ending after all of it. Lucky her. 

“Your fans will love it.” Hoseok continues, oblivious. “Where did the inspiration suddenly come from, though? I thought you said you were struggling with where to go with this one.”

“I don’t know really.” You sound absent as you stare at the neatly tied ribbon that’s still affixed around your lily’s pot, Spring Day’s business card still nestled into it. “It just came to me, I guess.”

You have to resist the instinct to take a photo of the peace lily to ask Seokjin what he’d name her. (He’s always so good with names.)

You know you’ll have to see him eventually. That’s the problem when all your friends are friends with each other; it might still be a while off but once Jimin and Namjoon have moved into their apartment and decorated it, they’ll hold a housewarming party and everyone will be invited. You can’t avoid Jin forever. You don’t want to, either, but right now you still feel like your heart is an open wound, and you need to give it time. Seeing him right now will just peel back the bandage you’ve tried to lay across your weeping heart to try and hold it together until it heals.

And you still feel awkward as fuck, too. Rejection hurts but it’s also embarrassing. Struggling through ten layers of repression to be sincere with someone and open yourself to pain, only to be let down? Ugh. Awful. Terrible. Never again. You’re gonna stick with repression from now on and just live vicariously through the stories you write. It might be lonely but at least you can keep your heart safe. (Not that anyone wants your heart, anyway.)

You start to play music to your plants. You can’t sing as well as the florist, but at least your lily and cactus can benefit from the sound of music, even if you’re probably off-key when you sing along to the soft songs you choose for them. 

(“Plants grow better when they’re spoken to.”

“What? Really?”

“Really,” Yunhee says with a small smile, fingers curling tenderly around the petals of the deep red tulip. “They respond to love and affection just like we do.”

Lily stares at the bloom and watches how the witch touches it so gently— with so much love and affection— and for a second she wishes was a flower, too.)

You have very little faith in your abilities to keep a plant alive, but your peace lily seems to flourish under your care. It’s only one plant but alongside your cactus it seems to bring light and life to your office, and there’s a bubbling sense of satisfaction in your chest each time you see them, still alive despite your ineptitude. It’s a brief distraction from the lingering sadness that still dogs your heels, opening up each time you find yourself thinking of Seokjin before having to quiet those thoughts.

The lily and cactus are fine but it doesn’t take long before you find yourself wanting to add more members to your green coterie. Plus, you never did buy that fuck-off huge bouquet, so maybe you’ll treat yourself to one this time around.

When you step into Spring Day you’re greeted by the sight of someone actually behind the counter today, barely visible behind the large leaves of the ficus plant; when the bell rings they pop up and it’s the same florist as before, eyes wide as he peeps over the counter and only growing wider when he spots who it is.

“Hi,” he says. He’s not as squeaky as he was last time but he still seems a little flustered at your appearance, fumbling with The Language of Flowers as he drops the book onto the chair and stands up straight; his hoop earrings have small chains today and they’re jostled by the motion. He looks away from you to brush his apron down. He’s wearing a loose button-up underneath it, sleeves rolled up like before, revealing the thin bracelets he has on each wrist. “You’re back.”

“I am.” You smile widely, surprised he's remembered you and weirdly happy at the sight of him. You’d half expected to see someone else; there’s no way this guy is the only person who works here, but you’re glad it’s him. “I was worried my lily would get lonely so I thought I’d get her a friend. Can I pick your brain for another recommendation?”

He takes you to the succulents. There’s a menagerie of terrariums to choose from, bursting with different shapes and sizes of plants, bright greens and soft teals and muted browns. 

“I think you’ll like this one,” he says, lifting up a dodecahedron of glass, each geometric plane trimmed with metal. He holds it up for you as you peer inside, small succulents nestled in a scattering of pebbles and soil. “They like bright light, but keep them out of direct sunlight because the glass can magnify it and burn them. And water them really sparingly, because there’s no drainage.” He taps the base of the terrarium. “It’s really easy to over-water succulents.”

He’s always so careful when he handles things, even if he lifts them like they’re weightless. No wonder the plants and flowers bloom so prettily here. They know they’re loved and looked after.

“They’re so cute.” You smile at the collection of contrasting plants that somehow live harmoniously together in such a small space. “And there’s more than one! So my lily will have plenty of friends.”

You’re too busy looking down to painstakingly accept the terrarium to notice the small, shy smile that flits across the man’s face as he watches you, your hands so cautious and protective as you accept more members into your growing family. “You’re right,” he says. “She won’t be lonely.”

You have the glass ball hugged against your chest as you trail behind the man, but then you come to a stand still by a selection of floral arrangements and realise that there’s no way you’ll be able to carry both the terrarium and a bouquet; at least, not one the size you’d been planning for. The florist notices the sound of your footsteps disappearing and stops to look over his shoulder. He seems concerned.

“Sorry,” you apologise, staring at one particularly large collection of flowers and foliage all gathered together in brown paper, soft pastel colours surrounded by greenery and smaller pale blooms. “I was just thinking about how nice your bouquets are. They’re so pretty.”

“Would you like one?”

“Of course, but I only have so many hands.” You laugh as you glance down at the terrarium you’re clutching onto. “I wouldn’t trust myself to hold a bunch of flowers at the same time as this. That would be a disaster waiting to happen, honestly.”

The florist pauses. “How about if I make you a boutonniere to pin on your shirt?”

You look up from the terrarium, blinking. There’s that tinge of pink stealing over his cheeks again and you find the sight surprisingly endearing. “You can do that?”

“If you’d like.” He’s looking away from you again, staring intently at a bucket of sunflowers. “So at least you have some flowers to take home.”

Something twinges, deep down in your chest, right at the bottom of your ribcage. Something you can’t put a name to. “That sounds nice. Yes, please? If it wouldn’t be too much trouble?”

You carefully put your succulents down on the counter and lean against it as you watch him select flowers for the corsage, pausing before he chooses each one; he keeps his gaze averted from you the whole time but you think it’s because he feels awkward about the attention you’re giving him. You’re not pretending like you’re not watching him intently, wanting to take everything in, intrigued. He keeps his eyes cast down as he starts to bring everything together but there’s still a flush on his cheeks. It’s… adorable. He’s adorable. 

“Feel free to say no, but can I take a photo?” You point at the camera you have looped around your neck. “Not of you! Well. Not all of you. Just… your hands as you make the corsage? I swear I don’t have a hand fetish, I just like to take photos of things I think are cool. Totally get if you don’t want me to, I—”

“Sure.”

He’s staring down at the tiny floral arrangement in his hands as he interrupts you, but he seems resolute despite the blush on his face. You pause for a second and then smile. You lift the Polaroid camera up to peer through the viewfinder and take the shot, but before you have the chance to take a proper look it seems like the florist is finished.

He only looks up at you now that he’s done and holds his work shyly up for you to inspect, as if it’s not the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen. He’s framed a soft purple rose with small blooms of lilac and white baby’s breath, offset by a burst of greenery, delicate and perfectly balanced. 

“Oh, that’s so beautiful,” you breathe. You reach out to touch it with reverent fingers, lavender petals of the rose so soft against your skin. “You did that so quickly, too! How did you choose everything? Did you just go for things you thought would match?”

“Um.” The florist has turned red. “Yes?”

You decide not to press further, even if you wonder what it is that has him so embarrassed right now. Probably because you complimented him on his floristry skills. “You have a really good eye,” you say, smiling. “It’s so lovely.”

He somehow flushes an even brighter shade of scarlet when you struggle to pin the boutonniere on and ask for his help; he’s so careful as he secures it in place, staring at his hands as he settles the flowers gently against your chest.

“Perfect.” You beam at him and feel triumphant when he gives you a small smile in return despite how shy he seems, but then he seems to realise that he’s still got his hands resting against the fabric of your clothing and rips them away like they’re on fire.

“Um.” He has his head turned away from you but there’s a wide smile on his face, teeth on show as he looks down at the ground. “Thank you. I’m glad you like it.”

You’ve just finished paying when you realise— “I don’t think you’ve charged me for the boutonniere ?”

The florist seems like a rabbit caught in headlights. “It’s a, uh, promotional thing. An incentive to come back and buy a full bouquet or arrangement. You… uh, you actually get a discount on your first bouquet if you get a boutonniere or corsage first. I just— I need your name to make sure you get the discount. Next time you come. If you come back,” the man says in a rush, before sucking his lips in and looking away from you. “If that’s okay?”

Of course you’re going to come back. “Oh! Sure! It’s Y/n,” you say. 

“Y/n,” he repeats. He’s staring at you, lips parted, soft around the shape of your name. You wait for a beat, looking back at him, before one of eyebrows rises.

“Um… do you have a book to write it down in? Or do you just memorise all of your customer’s names straight off the bat?”

The florist blinks and then his eyes go wide and his cheeks flush again. “A book! Of course, um.” He scrabbles around behind the counter, flustered, but seems to come up empty-handed. You watch as he grabs the only book he can find— The Language of Flowers— and cracks it open to the title page to scribble your name down in pencil before shoving the book under the counter and out of sight.

“I feel bad that you’ve just, uh, defaced a book because of me,” you say. “You didn’t have to write it down, I was just kidding? I know not everyone is as forgetful as me.”

“No, no, it’s alright,” he says. “It’s my book. I can write what I want in it. The, um, the logbook seems to have gone missing,” he continues, staring at his hands as he scratches his palm. “Yoongi-hyung must have moved it. I’ll, uh, write your name when he comes back with it. Yeah.”

“Yoongi? Is that your boss?”

“Hyung? Sort of. He owns Spring Day but he basically treats me like a co-owner, I guess.”

“Oh, wow, that sounds so cool, even if it must be a lot of responsibility.” You smile softly at the florist. “He must really trust you.”

He glances up from his hands, eyes warm when he spots the expression on your face. “Yeah,” he says, smiling back. “I owe Yoongi-hyung a lot.”

“Oh!” Your fingers tighten around the handles of your bag, terrarium safely encased inside. “You know my name, and now I know Yoongi’s name, but I don’t know your name…?”

He flushes again, imperceptibly, the tiniest spread of pink on the apples of his cheeks. “I’m Jungkook,” Jungkook says.

“Jungkook,” you repeat. His eyes flicker and he looks away from you. You’ll have to work on that shyness— but you’ve always been good at coaxing people out of their shells. You’re unapologetically yourself, and that helps other people feel comfortable being unapologetically themselves, too. “Alright, Jungkook, thank you for the help again today. And the beautiful boutonniere.” You wiggle your shoulder so the flowers affixed to your chest shift a little. “I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah.” He sounds a little breathless. “Yeah, I’ll see you around.”

Once you get home the terrarium is carefully unpacked and placed on your desk with your other plants; you’ve had to relocate some of your general filing clutter to another table to make space (the plants make you feel better than staring at a rose-gold in tray with letters that you need to get to, so whatever). You finally have a chance to look at that photo you'd taken earlier and fish it out of your pocket.

The background is a little blurry, not the focus of the shot, but you can see the neat pile of offcuts on the table, a small scattering of equipment. Jungkook’s hands, however, are in perfect focus. He has such lovely hands, from the pronounced knuckles to the subtle flex of his tendons to the pale blue veins that are visible as he holds the tiny bunch of flowers together and wraps them in ribbon. You stare at the picture for a little longer than you probably should before resting it against the peace lily’s pot, in eyeline as you begin to write.

(Lily watches, enraptured, as Yunhee prepares the sprigs of herbs and flowers that she hangs from the kitchen’s low ceiling. Her pretty hands are so fast as they bring the dried flora together, encircling each bunch with twine, quick and delicate. Careful. Reverent.

“Would you like a go?” Yunhee has seen her watching and holds up a spray of dried lavender rosemary, colours muted from their usual brightness, but no less pretty. “I can teach you, if you’d like.”

Lily smiles. “I would love that.”)

--

“What do I want in my bouquet? Hmm… that’s a tough one. What’s your favourite flower?”

You’re back at Spring Day the day after buying your terrarium, and once again, Jungkook is there. You’d caught a brief glimpse of another man on your way in, his hair a bleached-blond mess, but he seems to have disappeared— although his apron has been cast haphazardly over the back of the wicker chair behind the counter so you don’t think he’ll be gone too long.

Jungkook pauses. “I don’t know if I could choose just one,” he says. “But if I had to, I’d say the tiger lily.”

“Oh!” You point at his arm. His t-shirt today seems to be as baggy as the rest of his clothing choices but it leaves his lower arms visible. “Is that the tattoo you have?”

Jungkook turns his arm towards you so you can see it properly, the delicate lines of the lily blooming across his skin, and you can see the scratched lines of some words silhouetted behind it, ones you hadn’t spotted before. “Yeah.” He’s smiling. “It’s my birth flower.”

“That’s so pretty,” you say, awed. “What do the words say?”

Jungkook’s been less shy today, but when you ask this, he seems bashful. “Please love me.” He traces the words with his finger, the letters hidden behind the large petals of the flower. “It’s what the tiger lily means.”

He keeps his gaze averted from you, staring at the black and grey lines that bloom across his skin. You’ve barely scratched the surface of Jungkook, but there’s something so… so fascinating about him. Undeniably powerful and masculine, yet still so soft and considerate. Romantic.

“It’s beautiful,” you say, truthfully. “Both the tattoo and its meaning.”

Jungkook smiles shyly. “Thanks,” he says. “I’m glad you like it. I, um, drew it, actually.”

You’ve been staring at his arm but when he says this, you reel back. “You designed that tattoo? Jungkook. Are you telling me you can sing and draw?” When he doesn’t respond, still shy, you giggle. “It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything. I know the truth.”

“So what would you like in your bouquet?” Jungkook’s clearly trying to change the subject and you laugh.

“I have no idea. I’m a dunce and you’re the expert, so I’ll let you do the heavy lifting,” you say. “How about something with some tiger lilies?”

The tiger lilies are beautiful, vivid oranges flecked with brown; Jungkook lets you select the ones you want, accepting the flowers from you carefully as you pluck them from the buckets and then laughing at yourself when you end up with water spattered over your shoes, dripping down the long stems. After that you let him take over and he chooses the other flowers to bulk out your arrangement, mulling over each decision before he seems content with his choices.

“I can recognise the roses and lilies, but what are the others?” You ask, intrigued.

“Roses, hypericum berries, tiger lilies, orange lilies, goldenrods, and some greening for filler.” He lifts each flower up as he lists them off for you, a cascading gradient of red to cerise to orange to yellow. “Do you want me to change them?”

“No.” Your voice is gentle. “It’s perfect. It’s just like a sunrise. I love them.”

Jungkook’s responding smile is wide enough to show his teeth and squeeze his eyes.

There’s something soothing about watching him work. His eyes are entirely focused as he puts everything in its place, uncompromising when it comes to his perfectionism; things will look fine to you but he’ll seem to think differently and shift things around until it passes his rigorous standards. You want to take a photo. Not just of his hands, but of all of him— the little furrow of his brows, the intense look in his eyes, the tiniest pout on his lips; the softness of his hands, the tenderness of his fingers, the relaxation of his shoulders. Someone who’s intent on perfecting his craft but finds joy in its practiced motions.

You're just considering risking it all to ask him if you can take a photo when you're (thankfully) interrupted.

“That’s a pretty bouquet,” someone drawls. “What’s the occasion?”

The other man has appeared out of the back room. His eyes are fox-like but his mouth is soft and his fluffy white jumper seems even softer, fuzzy against the dark apron that he loops back over his head.

“Hi, Yoongi-hyung. Um.” Jungkook glances up at you. “Is it… for… a partner? Or someone else?”

“Nope, just thought I’d treat myself. Is that weird?”

Yoongi looks at you consideringly, clearly thinking something, before he shrugs. “Nah. You should tell your partner to step up their game, though. You shouldn’t have to buy yourself flowers.”

You laugh, trying to cover up your sudden awkwardness as Seokjin’s face flashes in your mind. Partner? You? Haha. “I’m single, so this is the only way I’ll be getting flowers, I’m afraid.”

Jungkook drops a handful of goldenrods. Yoongi’s eyes flicker over to him, watching as the younger man scrabbles to pick the yellow flowers back up. “Huh,” Yoongi says. “I see. Well, as long as you’re paying, I’m not complaining.”

You already like Yoongi, as forthright and blunt as he is, an utter juxtaposition to Jungkook’s unassuming shyness; he plops himself down and watches Jungkook finish putting the arrangement together, arms crossed as he leans back in the wicker chair. He looks a little lazy and a little sleepy. A cat reclining in the sun.

Jungkook finishes the bouquet by wrapping it in layers of brown and white paper, layering orange and yellow and white ribbons around the stems, pulling the sunrise of plants together with more bursts of bright colour.

“It’s so beautiful,” you say. 

Yoongi makes a small grunting noise of agreement. “Good work, Kookie.”

Jungkook seems almost overwhelmed by the praise and holds a hand over his face, a shy curve of his fingers over his nose and mouth as he coughs and pretends he’s fine. “It’s alright, I guess,” he says. “Do you want anything else?”

“No, that’s everything for today, thanks.” You beam at Jungkook, who smiles back; he’s so cute. “How much is that?”

Yoongi’s mouth opens but Jungkook speaks over him to tell you the price, which is lower than you thought, but— “That must be from the boutonniere discount, right?”

Yoongi squints at you. “Boutonniere discount?”

“You know, hyung, the boutonniere discount.” Jungkook’s voice is a little high. “The promotion.”

Yoongi stares at him. Jungkook stares back. You think Jungkook’s about to break in the face of Yoongi’s blank pokerface, but then he nods. “Oh, yeah, that one,” Yoongi says, slowly. “I forgot. The boutonniere discount. Absolutely.”

Yoongi lapses into silence during the rest of the transaction, and though he looks sleepy, his eyes are sharp as he watches the two of you. Not that you notice, too busy carefully accepting the flowers from Jungkook and hefting the huge bouquet in your arms, mindful not to jostle them too much.

“Thank you so much, Jungkook!” You tilt your head forward to breathe in the soft floral scent, smiling. “It’s so lovely. And it was nice to meet you, Yoongi.”

“Likewise,” Yoongi says. “We’ll see you again?”

“Of course!” On your way out you go to take a hand off the bouquet to give them a jaunty wave, but unlike Jungkook you can’t keep the whole thing steady with just one hand and settle with giving them a nod instead. “I’ll see you again!”

As the door settles shut behind you, bell tinkling as you go, Yoongi raises an eyebrow at Jungkook. “Boutonniere discount?”

“Shut up, hyung,” Jungkook mutters, embarrassed. 

Once you get home you unearth the vase Namjoon made you in his last ceramics class, unwrapping the bouquet and easing it into the water. You watch as the flowers come a little loose from the tight presentation and jostle lightly against each other as they settle into the vase. It’s a bright burst of colour on your breakfast bar, eye-catching and beautiful. 

These flowers should last longer than the corsage from yesterday, which had already started to wilt; you know practically nothing about preserving flowers but you’ve sandwiched the purple rose and lilac and baby’s breath between layers of tissue and squashed them between some books on advice from the internet, wanting to press them and keep them close. (Maybe you’ll frame them or something. That would be cute.)

You pause. You pluck out a tiger lily, disrupting the careful balance Jungkook had strived to create, spinning the flower slowly between your fingers. Your friends send you congratulatory flowers after each new book publication, but this is the first bouquet that’s ever been made specifically for you— not the you that’s hidden behind a pseudonym. You. Even if you’d asked for this yourself, Jungkook had been the one to choose everything for you. He'd been the one to put the thought and time and effort into it.

You stare at the tiger lily for a few moments longer before slipping it back into the arrangement, turning it so it rests just as it had before you’d pulled it out.

(Spring is turning to summer and everything is starting to bloom, the garden alive with a riot of colour, full of the buzzing of bees and other insects— drawn here just as Lily had been. But Yunhee finds Lily in the greenhouse, away from the noise and activity, quiet and contemplative as she stares around her.

“What are they?” Lily points at a plot of flowers that have yet to bloom. The yellow and orange buds are long and heavy, weighted towards the ground. 

“Tiger lilies.” Yunhee squats down and touches one of the furled flowers. “They’re shy to start with, but once they start to blossom, they’ll be some of the prettiest things here. Yes, that means you,” Yunhee laughs as the plant in her fingers seems to twitch. “They’re always so bold once they’re in full bloom. You just have to wait until you can coax them out.”)

--

“You seem to be doing better.” Jimin puts his coffee down. “Have you spoken to Jin yet?”

“Good god, Jimin,” you laugh. “Straight in there, aren’t you?”

Jimin fixes you with a stern gaze and you wince a little.

“Sheesh. No, not yet.” You fiddle with your napkin, curling it around the end of your teaspoon. “I’m starting to feel… like… kind of okay about it, I guess, but I’m worried that it’s going to be weird when I see Jin again.”

It’s been over a month since your confession, and it’s the longest you’ve gone without talking to Jin since you’ve met him. It’s… weird. You miss him so much. But you don’t know if it’s too soon to try and reintroduce him into your life, even if Jimin clearly disagrees.

“It’s only going to get weirder the longer you go without talking to him,” Jimin says, and you hate that you know he’s right. “You keep asking how he is, and he keeps asking how you are, and it’s obvious you both miss each other. I’m not saying you have to jump back to how things were straight away, but you can ease back into it, you know?”

You sigh. “I know,” you say. “It’s just hard, Minnie.”

Jimin, your oldest friend, had been the first person you’d called after your failed confession. You’d been tearful and honest when you’d said that it felt like you were going to hurt forever. But it’s weird how quickly that’s ebbed away, even if you still regret opening your mouth in the first place; most of the hurt you feel right now is from missing Jin, not from lingering pain about unreciprocated feelings. You miss your-friend-Jin, not your-crush-Jin. 

“You seem to be doing okay, though.” Jimin raises his eyebrows at you over his latte. “Anything to do with whoever’s sending you those pretty bouquets that’re all over your apartment, hmm?”

You splutter into your coffee. “What? No, don’t be ridiculous, I’m buying those for myself,” you say once you’ve wiped the coffee off your chin. “Me? Getting sent bouquets? Pfft.”

You never planned on becoming some sort of manic flower hoarder, but Jimin isn’t exaggerating when he says that they’re all over your apartment. You’ve even had to buy extra vases to hold all the bouquets and arrangements you have, every hue and shape and size of flora imaginable on almost every flat surface— only your desk remains untouched, sacred ground for your potted plants. You’d bought a rubber plant a few days ago, but beyond that, nothing new has been set on your desk recently.

It’s just… whenever you’re in Spring Day it’s like there’s no space in your brain or heart to think about Seokjin. It’s a place of respite for you, now. Somewhere you can go that’s untouched by the outside world. Somewhere you can go to be surrounded by beauty and life. Somewhere you can go to talk to Jungkook, the sweet, soft florist who’s slowly opening up to you, a blossoming flower, petals unfurling further with each visit.

He’s not always there. Sometimes it’s just Yoongi, and you like Yoongi and enjoy his company, but… it’s different with Jungkook. He’s growing bolder, less shy, and every conversation with him is so riveting; you eagerly gobble up every tidbit of information he feeds you. He sings. He draws. He paints. He takes photos. He dances. Everything he finds interesting, he tries, and everything he tries, he tries voraciously— he never settles for anything less than 100%. He puts himself entirely into everything he does.

He’s incredible.

Anyway. You can’t come away from Spring Day empty-handed, hence all the flowers that are filling your apartment. Even though Jungkook says it’s okay for you not to buy things, you’d be a supremely awful customer if you just distracted him by talking and then leaving again, so you always make sure to buy something. Even if it’s just a tiny flower themed bookmark that you don't need.

“I’m all for retail therapy, but why not buy stuff for yourself that doesn’t eventually die and wilt?” Jimin seems mystified. “That many flowers can’t be cheap.”

“I’m a relatively successful author, I can afford to blow money on flowers if I want.” You wave your hand dismissively. “Besides, my latest novel involves a lot of flower and plant related stuff, so I’m basically investing in my writing. I’m killing two birds with one stone: research for my novel, as well as filling the gaping hole in my chest by buying flowers for myself because I’m destined to die alone and no one else is ever going to buy them for me.” You finish brightly.

Jimin looks equal parts frustrated and sad. “You know that’s not true, Y/n. Just because Jin—”

“It’s fine, Jimin, I’m kidding! I’m kidding,” you insist. “The reason I’ve been single for the past billion years is because I’m just too much of a catch and people find it intimidating, I know.”

You’ve used fake, inflated narcissism and mocking self-deprecation as ways of protection for years. Most people take your confidence at face value. However, Jimin knows you too well to be fooled by it; not to mention he’s one of the few people who knows about your books and has read every single one so he’s well aware of all the schmoopy daydreams you keep close to your chest.

Ugh. This is why you write under a pseudonym. Autumn Lovett is allowed to enjoy clichés and have unrealistic and dumb romantic fantasies. A lot of their platform is built around it. Meanwhile the real version of you tries to pretend that you’re not obsessed with the idea of true love and yearn for it almost every waking moment despite how utterly impossible it is that you’ll ever find it. Because it’s embarrassing.

“I’m going to kick you,” Jimin says lovingly. “Right in the shins.”

“God, please don’t.” Jimin’s kicks are lethal. “If I say I don’t genuinely think I’m some sort of unlovable cave troll, will you promise not to hurt me?”

Jimin takes longer to think about his answer than you’d like. “Okay,” he says eventually. “You have to really mean it.”

“Alright, I don’t genuinely think I’m some sort of unlovable cave troll. I just haven’t met the right person yet.” Your words seem to pacify Jimin, even if they ring a little hollow in your own ears.

The truth is that, on a deep level, you do feel unlovable. It’s maybe a bit self-pitying, because you have friends who adore you and you know you’re worthy of love, but… it’s kind of hard to really believe that when you have yet to have your feelings genuinely reciprocated. There have been a few moments in the past, a few brief, fleeting connections, but never anything wholesome and real. You feel like you’ve been waiting for something that’s never going to happen. 

Besides, if it does happen, it’s never going to be as soft and loving as the relationships you write into your books, right? You’re a sucker for clichés. You love the idea of someone bringing you flowers, watching the sunset with you, dancing together in your kitchen to a song on the radio— every overdone and overused formula that’s shoved into every romantic film ever. You want all of it. (You’ve never been on a ferris wheel but god do you want to have a date that involves one.)

Maybe you’re still alone because you’ve been asking for too much. Not everyone is as lucky as Jimin and Namjoon; you doubt you’d ever be so fortunate to find someone who loves you as much as they love each other and express that love, too.

You’re still brooding over these feelings when you visit Spring Day later. Jungkook’s singing again, something smooth and lovely and mellow, and when he sees you he brightens— he cuts himself off, but not because he’s embarrassed, but because he’s happy to see you. 

Something inside you goes soft and warm at the sight. He’s so nice.

Still, despite Jungkook’s soothing presence you’re far more distracted than you usually are and he seems to notice this; you end up sitting cross legged on the floor of the greenhouse under the leaves of a monstera while Jungkook keeps flicking you looks between watering plants.

A few weeks ago, he would be too timid to say anything, but by now he’s grown far more bold. You’ve been encouraging him to speak his mind. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah.” You’ve had your head tilted back to watch the fluttering leaves of the monstera plant but you look down to turn your attention to Jungkook. He’s wearing a dark plaid shirt today, loose sleeves rolled up past his elbow as he hefts his blue watering can; he looks soft and approachable, eyes warm with concern. “Yeah, I just have some stuff on my mind, I guess. Sorry. I’m not exactly a great conversational partner at the best of times, so I’m being even worse right now.”

“It’s fine, you don’t have to apologise.” Jungkook hesitates. “Do you… want to talk about it?”

You let out a light chuckle. “Ah, you don’t want to hear about the nonsense I’ve got in my brain, but thank you. It’s very sweet of you to offer.”

“No.” Jungkook’s voice is surprisingly firm and you internally startle. “If there’s something on your mind, it’s not nonsense. I’m not saying you have to tell me if you don’t want to, but— please don’t think I don’t want to listen to you.”

You blink. He’s not looking away from you like he normally does— there’s a hard set to the line of his mouth, like he really, really means what he says and he wants you to know that.

“Oh.” For once you’re the one who breaks eye contact, glancing down at your lap. You’d found a lone daisy on the floor and you’ve been cradling it in your hands, rolling the stem between your fingers, and you watch as the petals fan out and shiver at the motion. “Okay. Thanks, Jungkook.”

“Don’t mention it,” he says. His voice is gentle. You keep your eyes fixed on the daisy, and you can hear the slosh and drizzle of the watering can as he goes back to the plants. You take in a deep breath.

“What’s your opinion on romance, Jungkook?”

There’s a splashing noise as Jungkook fumbles with the can and drops it. Luckily it stays upright and doesn’t spill over the floor. “I, um, what?”

You look away from your daisy and stare at him earnestly, as embarrassingly open and raw as you feel right now. “What’s your opinion on romance? You know, love and all that.”

Jungkook pauses. 

“I know it’s a weird question.” You wince. “You don’t have to answer it. I’ve just been thinking about it.”

Jungkook stares at the watering can by his feet before he stoops over and picks it back up. He’s not looking at you. “How come?” His voice is a little strained, but you don’t notice.

“Ah, I don’t know,” you sigh. “I think about it a lot, honestly. Sometimes I just wonder if it’s realistic? Like, of all the people in the world, what’s the likelihood you’re going to meet someone that you really… really resonate with? And they’re going to feel the same for you? Part of me has always believed in fate, or like… serendipity, I suppose. Bumping into someone that turns out to be so much more important than either of you could imagine. A soulmate? In a way? But as time goes on I… I guess I’m worried I’ll never actually find that and it’s all a ridiculous pipe dream.”

You feel small and defenceless after admitting this. You might be a loudmouthed sarcastic clown, but underneath all your theatrical buffoonery and snark, the truth is that you’re an utterly hopeless romantic. It’s the world’s worst kept secret, sure, but you’ve never laid it out so plainly to anyone before. 

The longer Jungkook stays silent, the more awkward you feel, and you desperately need to break the tension.

“Bweh.” You make a little noise. “I get nauseous whenever I express real emotions. I didn’t mean to word vomit all of that at you, sorry—”

“I believe in soulmates.” Jungkook’s back is to you as he stands in front of a collection of osteospermums, but he’s stopped watering them. “And romance. And true love. I don’t think it’s always going to be easy, and it might hurt along the way, but… I think there’s love and happiness waiting for us at the end of it. Yoongi-hyung always calls me a hopeless romantic.” He laughs a little and glances over his shoulder at you, his expression warm and sincere. “I always cry at sad scenes in romantic films and books and he likes to tease me about it.”

He doesn’t seem ashamed about being open and vulnerable with you. It’s terrifying and yet Jungkook seems unafraid. Honestly, you admire it. “Me too,” you admit, your voice a quiet hush. “Everyone keeps arguing about if Rose could have let Jack onto the door with her but I’m always too busy crying to pay attention to how big the piece of wood is.”

Jungkook lets out a breath of laughter, nose scrunching as he smiles at you. He’s not judging your sappiness at all. “Titanic is such a sad film,” he says. “It makes my heart ache every time I watch it.”

You hit your knee with a fist. “I know! Why couldn’t they just be happy? Ouch,” you say. “Wow. I punched myself harder than I thought. I just get very passionate about happy endings. Sad endings— well, they make me sad, especially if the rest of the story has been sad too. What was it Guy Fieri said? I can bear any pain as long as it has meaning.”

Jungkook blinks. “Guy Fieri said that?”

“Now that I think about it, I think it was actually Haruki Murakami.” You rub a soothing hand over your knee. “But yeah. I’m not saying sad endings don’t have a place, and sometimes it’s right for the story that’s being told, but… I’m more of a happy ending person. If I were James Cameron I’d have to let Rose and Jack end up together. I’d be too soft to write the ending he did, even if it was appropriate. You know?”

Jungkook turns away from the osteospermums, his eyes as soft as he looks at you. “Yeah, me too,” he agrees. “I think everyone deserves a happy ending.”

The monstera plant above you patiently listens as you and Jungkook have a long, quiet conversation about love and romance, and it’s… weird. You never thought you could have a conversation like that without wanting to cringe so hard you collapsed in on yourself and imploded into a black hole. Submitting to the mortifying ordeal of being known is usually a lot more… well… mortifying, but somehow with Jungkook, it isn’t.

Maybe it’s because he’s so open himself. Maybe it’s because you can tell he’s not judging you at all. He doesn’t think your desperate yearning for love and romance is anything to be embarrassed about— and he clearly feels the same yearning. You find it baffling that someone as lovely as Jungkook doesn’t have someone special in his life, though. Wild.

“Monsteras are actually nicknamed Swiss cheese plants,” Jungkook informs you, running a hand over one of the leaves and trailing a finger over one of the holes in it. You're adding it to your steadily growing plant collection. “Because of these. They look like the holes you find in Swiss cheese.”

You laugh. “Oh, that’s so cute! I love that.”

Jungkook smiles. “I knew you would.”

He’s just finished tying a ribbon around the plant’s pot when he pauses. “Oh,” he says. “If you like happy endings, can I recommend something?”

He stoops down to get something from behind the counter and you can tell when he’s found what he’s looking for by how his face lights up. You’re hyped to see what it is, what’s gotten Jungkook so excited— but then he flips the book over to hand to you and you nearly choke on your own spit. 

Jamais Vu. Your most recent novel.

“I really love this author,” he says as you try to swallow down your coughs, eyes watering with the effort. Luckily he’s looking down at the book and doesn’t seem to notice. “No matter how difficult things get, or how awful things seem, the endings are always happy. Or at worst, bittersweet. They’re never completely sad? Watch out for the plot twist in the middle, though, that’s a rough one.”

“Hahahaha, alright, I will!” It was the first time you’d incorporated a murder mystery in one of your books, but damn, it had gone over really well with the critics. And Jungkook too, apparently, judging from the excited look in his eyes. “This looks, um. Interesting.”

He beams at you. “If you like it, I have the rest of their books at home. You can borrow those as well. I, uh, I've been reading them from the very beginning,” he admits, with a tiny, shy laugh. “The earlier books are skewed mainly towards romance, but the plots are always good too. If, um, you like that sort of thing.”

You feel faint. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks, Jungkook.”

Once you get home, you very carefully and delicately place the monstera on your desk, turning it a few times until you’re entirely happy with the position of it.

Then you lie face down on your bed.

Your breaths are fuggy against your pillow but you keep your face buried in it, even if it’s getting progressively harder to breathe. Jungkook reads your books. Jungkook reads all of your books. Jungkook is apparently an avid fan of your books— the copy of Jamais Vu he’s lent you is a hardback copy and the design on it is one you recognise as a pre-order exclusive. 

Oh, shit. Is it a signed copy?

You scramble out of bed to grab the book and flip to the title page. There it is, staring up at you: your own signature. Well, Autumn Lovett’s signature, complete with a tiny scribbled leaf. 

To Jungkook, you’d written. Thank you so much for all your support! you’d written. Autumn Lovett, you’d written.

You muffle a scream into your hands.

Even if Jungkook doesn’t know who Autumn really is, there’s no way he’s going to read your next book and not realise the truth. The tiger lilies. Yunhee’s dark eyes and dark hair and swift hands. Her strength and softness. Lily, magnetised by her, drawn in by her gravity.

(You haven't realised until now just how much meeting Jungkook has changed the development of your novel. Why?)

You’re at a loss for words. You honestly don’t know what to feel. Part of you feels flattered that Jungkook loves your writing so much. Another part of you feels like you’ve been lying to him the whole time you’ve been talking— pretending to be someone you’re not. Somehow. Autumn has lied to him by not being real, and you’ve lied to him by not letting him know the truth. Sure, you’ve only found out today, but.

The one person you’d talk to— the one person who’d help you muddle through your emotions on something as complex as this, as flippant and blasé as he might seem to people who don’t know him like you do— is someone you haven’t spoken to in over a month. 

Your eyes slide over to your phone. After your conversation with Jimin earlier you’d genuinely been planning on messaging Seokjin tonight; nothing major or big, just a dipping of your toe back into the waters of your friendship. But you need to hear his voice. You’re not going to offload on him, of course. You’re not going to make the first conversation you have after your confession to be all about you. But you just need that familiarity right now.

He picks up after one ring. 

“Hi, Y/n,” he says, and you feel like you could fold in two.

“Hi, Jin.” The sound of his voice fills you with warmth and tender affection, and you love him so, so much— but you know in an instant that it’s platonic. This cresting wave of tenderness crashing through you and making your knees want to buckle is for one of your best friends, Kim Seokjin. Your friend. “Hey. I hope you’re doing okay. Been up to anything interesting?”

You end up curled in your computer chair as you talk, your hand resting on the book that Jungkook has entrusted you with. It’s funny how talking to Seokjin comes so naturally; a month feels so long, especially after such a huge revelation from you to him, but it’s also like no time has passed at all. You think maybe you could go years without talking but the moment you came back together again, it would feel the same way. 

It’s like you exist on the same level. Like there’s some sort of unbreakable, connective membrane between the two of you. It’s why you’d fallen in love with him. It’s only now that you realise that you’d mistaken that closeness for romantic love, when it isn’t really, at all. It’s just different to your other friendships; deeply and emotionally intimate, but not romantic. 

“It sounds like you’ve been doing well,” Jin says. There’s the sound of sizzling in the background and you glance at the clock; he’ll be cooking dinner. He always cooks around now. “How’s the novel coming along?” Are you still in love with me? Are you writing about me?

You pause. Your flip Jungkook’s book open again, staring at his name written in your handwriting— months before you’d known who he was. Some tenuous, inexplicable connection before you’d even met. 

“It’s good,” you say, truthfully. “It’s not what I’d been planning, but it’s really good.” I love you, but I’m not in love with you. I’m writing, but not about you. Not really.

“I’m glad.” Jin’s voice is so warm. “You’ll have to send me what you've got so far at some point.”

“So you can point out all the inconsistencies whenever characters are cooking or baking anything? No thanks, already fallen into that trap too many times,” you say, and Jin laughs.

“If you’re going to write a character who’s a baker, you need to do your research batter,” he says, and you laugh in return.

“Did you say batter instead of better? That’s terrible. I love it, even if I wasn’t bready for it.”

“Your puns are so crumby,” Jin replies.

“Are you trying to get a rise out of me?”

You both end up dissolving into laughter at your increasingly nonsensical and awful baking puns. The puns are weak and not even good in a bad way (as in, so bad that they’re good), but they don’t need to be. Jin takes longer to finish laughing than you. His squeaky wiper noises are a familiar sound through your phone speaker and you’re still smiling once it eventually trails off.

“I missed you,” you say suddenly. “I’m sorry. Not sorry about the confession, but— sorry it took me so long to come back around afterwards. I was just worried it would be weird.”

“I understand. It’s okay. I missed you too. You know I love you, right?”

“I love you too. Not romantically. Don’t get it twisted. I realise now that I’m way out of your league, anyway, so it’s a good thing you turned me down.”

“It was for your own good,” Jin says. “As the two most beautiful human beings alive we’d been too powerful if we were together, so it’s for the good of humanity.”

“We’re just so altruistic,” you sigh dramatically, and then you both giggle. “Can the world’s two most beautiful human beings get together for lunch? That wouldn’t cause a vortex in the space time continuum, right?”

“I think the fabric of the universe can handle it.” You hear the sound of Jin taking his pan off the stove, the clunk of metal. “Let me check when I’m free, sweetheart.”

(“You seem happy.” Jaerim’s smile is a soft, hesitant thing, but Lily’s responding smile is bright and wide.

“I am,” she says. Pinned to her breast pocket is a corsage of sweet pea, soft purple and pink and white, its gentle fragrance filling her senses. A reminder of Yunhee even when she’s not here. “I’m really, really happy. But I’m always happier when I can share things with you.”

Jaerim reaches out for her hands. His touch is familiar and warm, and Lily feels as loved as she always has— the way she loves him, too. 

As a friend.)

--

“You know, at this point I’m pretty sure you’re bankrolling the entire shop,” Yoongi says, and you laugh.

“I can always go somewhere else if you’d like?”

“Please.” Yoongi snorts. “I’m not complaining. Besides, Jungkook would be heartbroken if his favourite customer stopped coming.”

The way Yoongi assembles bouquets is different to Jungkook. He’s no less skilled and lavishes the same amount of attention on each one, but his arrangements always seem a little wilder, freer— not in a bad way, just different. He’s surrounded by an increasing collection of carnations and dusty miller, the silver leaves curling around the immaculately white blooms; simple and elegant arrangements for a small bridal shower.

“That’s good to know,” you say, ignoring the warm flush that spreads through your chest at the idea of being Jungkook’s favourite customer. Sometimes you worry that you’re overbearing, actually, with how often you visit, even if Jungkook never seems to mind. “I do buy a lot, though, so that’s probably why I’m his favourite.”

Yoongi’s just finished tying a trail of silver and white ribbon around the collection of flowers in his hands, eyes flicking up at you as he eases it into a small vase. “You shouldn’t feel obligated to keep throwing money at this place,” he says. “You’re welcome to come whenever you like. Without needing to buy something.”

You feel weirdly chastened. “Um, okay.” You laugh lightly. “Kind of a weird business you’ve got running if you’re not telling customers to buy things, though?”

Yoongi snorts again. “You’ve spent more money in the past few months than most customers might spend in a year.” He reaches for another bunch of carnations. “I think we’re good.”

The bell tinkles above the door. You glance over your shoulder to see who it is and your face lights up when you see it’s Jungkook, clutching a small cardboard tray of coffees. He looks boyish and cute today, his hair is a little windswept from the breeze outside, and there’s a smile on his face that only grows wider when he spots you. You smile back. You’re always so happy to see him.

“Is that my coffee?” Yoongi says, without looking up from the bundle of flowers he's holding. “Bring it here.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes and you stifle a laugh behind your hand. Any shyness Jungkook might have had originally seems entirely gone now, and he’s unabashed when he pretends to disrespect his hyung, even if you know there’s a lot of love there.

Jungkook puts the cardboard cup out of the way of Yoongi’s work so there’s no chance it might accidentally get knocked over. “Here’s the decaf caramel cappuccino with extra sweetener and whipped cream that you asked for, hyung.” Jungkook gives you a conspiring smile and you stifle another laugh at the expression that flits across Yoongi’s face at the word decaf.

“Die,” Yoongi says mildly, before taking a sip of his bitter and untouched black coffee. “Perfect. Now, shoo, I’m busy. Go check on the herb display, I think they could do with some fertiliser.”

You keep hold of Jungkook’s cup as he mists the herbs, a tiny spritzer in his hands that he carefully aims at the stem of each plant. Unlike Yoongi’s black coffee, Jungkook’s opted for something iced, a creamy yellow blend with shavings of chocolate on top.

“If I’d known you were here, I would have gotten you something as well,” he says. You glance up to see Jungkook’s paused in his motions, hands engulfed in bright green basil leaves. It seems like he’s noticed you peering at the drink.

“Don’t be silly, I don’t expect you to buy me coffee! I’m just trying to work out what this is. It looks really tasty.”

“It’s a banana frappe. You can try some, if you want?”

You beam. “Can I?” You take a sip before Jungkook changes his mind, pursing your lips around the straw as the coldness hits your tongue and nearly gives you brain freeze— but then you register the sweetness on your tongue, the flavour of banana and vanilla and honey, delicious. “Oh, this is so good,” you breathe. “Where did you get this? I need this in my life.” You take another cheeky sip, eyes on Jungkook’s reaction, but he seems unfazed at the fact that you’re greedily slurping up his drink before he’s even had a chance to have any.

“There’s a small café a few streets away from here,” he says. “I, um.” He looks away from you, back towards the basil, before he pulls his hands out of the leaves and starts to mist the soil of the mint plants. “I could take you there, if you’d like.”

You haven’t seen him blush for a while, but that familiar tinge of pink is starting to steal over his cheeks as he looks away from you. Something churns low in your stomach, something almost like butterflies; a shifting of their wings, ready to take flight. “Oh,” you say. “That would, um. That would be nice.”

For the first time since you’ve stepped foot into Spring Day, you leave without buying anything. Instead, you leave with a day and time, hastily typed into your phone so you don’t forget. (Not that you would. How could you forget anything about Jungkook?)

You still haven’t told Jungkook who you are. Well— who Autumn is. He’d been so excited when you’d ‘finished’ Jamais Vu and had accepted another book from him, wanting eagerly to hear your opinion on it; it’s hard to not blurt out the truth to him, but you don’t know how to broach that topic. You’re worried that it’ll change this friendship you’ve built up with him and you don’t want to lose Jungkook. Even if you haven’t known him that long, he’s already so, so important to you, and you don’t want to let go of that.

But if you’re starting to become real friends, the kind of friends who get coffee together, who spend time together outside of Jungkook’s work— he deserves to know, right? You just need to find the right time to tell him.

When the day rolls around, you’re early. You’re always early for things. You skulk around the front of Spring Day, where you’d agreed to meet; you make sure to keep just out of Yoongi's eye line, ducking out of sight when it seems like he might spot you through the front window. You’re staring at a bucket of coral-coloured blooms when you hear Jungkook calling your name and you glance up, lifting your hand in a wave.

You almost choke on a breath. You’ve never seen Jungkook out of uniform, his plethora of loose, oversized shirts under a dark apron, nondescript trousers and plain shoes.

“Hi, Y/n.” The smile on his face is bright and wide, eyes squeezing into crescents. “I hope you haven’t been waiting too long?”

He’s in such a simple outfit, but it’s devastating. His hair is arranged neatly under a cap, a leather jacket over the dark, tight shirt tucked into his jeans, blue denim nipped in by a plain black belt; there’s large rips at the knees, flashes of skin visible as he walks forwards, feet steady in black boots. It’s undeniably Jungkook, but it’s so different from the version of him you’ve gotten used to over the past two months, catching you completely off guard.

“Y/n?” He repeats, concerned at your silence, and you snap to attention.

“Oh, sorry! I was just thinking about, uh,” you glance at the flowers you’d been looking at, “peonies. No, I haven’t been waiting long at all, don’t worry. You, um, look really nice today,” you add lamely, unsure what else to say. 

“You do too.” Jungkook sounds like he genuinely means it, even if you’re just wearing a pretty regular outfit, similar to the sort of thing you usually wear when you visit him at work. “Peonies only flower for about a week, actually, if you wanted to get some?”

“No, no, that’s fine! Today’s not about flowers, today is about coffee,” you say. Your heart is hammering in your chest for some reason. A single butterfly lifts off in your stomach, taking flight with a flutter of its wings, flitting to and fro. “Take me to the coffee?”

He takes you to the coffee. He leads you confidently through the maze of alleyways, past more places you haven’t seen; he waits patiently whenever you ask to stop and take photos, watching as you stare in awe at an arch built out of precariously balanced tomes that leads into an old bookshop.

“It’s just so pretty around here,” you say, flapping your hand about to try and speed up the development process of a photo. “I’m sorry I’m taking so long.”

“It’s okay.” Jungkook’s voice is soft. “We’re not in a rush.”

He’s not just saying that to be nice, either. At one point, after you’ve apologised yet again, he steals your Polaroid from you and runs; you laugh at him when he refuses to give it back, taking shots of you while he dances just out of your reach, a cascade of photos that somehow turn out distinct and unblurred. Curse his photography abilities. 

You slap him lightly on the arm when he eventually surrenders the camera back to you and he just chuckles. It’s a long, looping detour on your way to the café, but you’re having so much fun that you don’t mind— in fact you end up having to be the one to get you back on track, tugging Jungkook’s elbow when it seems like he’s about to take you down another alleyway and towards the river, which you know is the wrong direction for the café.

“Coffee, Jungkook.” You try to sound stern but you end up dissolving into giggles when he pouts at you. “Okay, how about a compromise? We can get coffee to go and then come back this way so you can show me that market you were talking about.”

He brightens. “Okay,” he says. “We can do that.”

You almost regret saying this when you eventually turn up at the café; it’s actually a few stories up a building, a narrow set of rickety steps that opens into a light, airy room, naked lightbulbs hanging in constellations overhead, the entire wall behind the counter a massive chalkboard that’s covered in art of different styles and designs. The wall facing out onto the road outside is glass— the perfect place to unwind and people watch.

“Oh, wow,” you breathe. “Jungkook, this is so cool.”

“I know,” he says, smug and cheeky, and he laughs when you huff out a little breath at him. “The drinks are good, too.”

He’s not lying. He opts for another banana frappe, and after much deliberation, you decide to try the iced honeycomb latte. He refuses to let you pay and hands his card over to the barista before you even get a chance to reach for your bag, which has you narrowing your eyes at him.

“I feel like you prepared that in advance,” you say.

“Not telling.” He taps the side of his nose, which is scrunched from his smile. Inside you another handful of butterflies take flight.

More and more take wing as the afternoon goes on, each time Jungkook laughs or smiles or looks at you; he leads you through the market and shows you his favourite stalls, excited each time he gets to show you something he likes and enjoys, stealing sips of your drink when you’re distracted— but you laugh in his face and do the same to him, so it’s okay. 

Time flows by as easy as quicksilver, liquid and bright, and before you know it it’s turned from afternoon to evening, sky softening in deepening shades of blue and purple, the smattering of clouds a pastel palette of pink; you come to a stop by the edge of the river, Jungkook a few steps ahead of you by the time he realises you’re not walking beside him. He smiles at you as you lift your camera and take a shot of him surrounded by the sunset.

“I didn’t realise how late it was getting,” you say, and Jungkook blinks. It’s like he’s coming around to himself, like he didn’t realise either; he glances around and notices the shade of the sky before he pulls his sleeve back to look at the watch on his wrist.

“Wow, me neither.” He sounds surprised, and then he looks guilty. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to keep you busy for so long.”

“Oh my gosh, Jungkook, don’t apologise.” You tuck your latest photo into your pocket to look at later. “I’m having so much fun, I just didn’t notice the time go by. It’s not like you’re forcing me to be here,” you laugh. “I like spending time with you.”

The lampposts have yet to turn on and it’s hard to make out Jungkook’s features when he’s turned away from the soft light of the sunset like this. But you can hear the sincerity in his voice when he speaks. “Me too,” he says. “I’m really glad you found Spring Day.”

Your heart squeezes in your chest. Jungkook looks towards the river just as the first lights switch on, finally dark enough that the streetlights come to life; there're trailing bulbs between each lamppost that flicker on moments after, points of brightness that flood the path below them. Jungkook’s face is shaded by the brim of his cap but he takes it off and shakes his head, running his hand through his hair now that it’s freed. Another breath catches in your throat at how utterly mesmerising he is. 

The sound of his voice breaks you out of your trance. “I was wondering,” he says, staring at the rippling mirror of lights on the water, the fading colours of the sky overhead cast in undulating reflections that shift from moment to moment. “You like photography, right?”

“I do,” you say. “Even if I’m not that great at it myself.” 

“I have a friend who’s a photographer and some of his work’s been accepted in a local gallery.” Jungkook’s running his fingers over the hard brim of his cap, running them along its edge. “The opening night is in a few days, and, um. I was wondering if you’d like to go with me?”

He finally turns away from the river to look at you. Jungkook’s eyes are so big and dark. For once you’re the deer caught in headlights, and you don’t even know why; it’s like this simple, innocuous question has reached inside you and stolen all the air out of your lungs. 

Even so, your answer is immediate. “I’d really, really love that,” you answer honestly, and Jungkook’s responding smile is so, so wide.

You forget about that final photo until you get home. It falls out of your pocket as you shrug your coat off to hang it up, and you stoop down to pick it up, fingers stuttering and going still against its white edges as you take it in.

Jungkook’s silhouetted by the evening sky behind him, in stark contrast to the gentle colours and yet just as soft. The shadows are a little blurred, and the colours are a little muted— but Jungkook’s face is clear, his eyes warm and his smile gentle as he looks at you. 

No one’s ever looked at you like that before.

At last the final butterfly flaps its wings and joins the others, your stomach full of fluttering.

--

Your friendship with Jin has miraculously gone back to normal. If anything, it’s even better than it was before your confession— you don’t feel the need to think twice about your actions, like you’re tiptoeing around him, desperate to keep your love a secret. It’s as easy as it used to be and you’re glad.

But you still remember how much it hurt when he’d looked at you and turned you down. You’ve moved past it, sure, but it had just cemented something you’ve known your whole life: how utterly unlovable you are. How wrong you’d been at reading signs, how you’d been in over your head. How every crush you’ve ever had has come to nothing.

You’ve kept that picture of Jungkook resting against your peace lily. His lovely eyes watch as you struggle at your computer, hours of typing stilted words and phrases that you read back and furiously delete. You bury your head in your hands, frustrated. 

Why can’t you write?

By the time Friday night rolls around, you’ve added a grand total of one (1) sentence to your novel. But right now you have more important things to worry about; it’s almost time for you to meet Jungkook at the gallery downtown and the maps app on your phone has been playing up. It’s not that you’re going to be late— you don’t actually live that far away— but you’re not going to be early, and you hate that.

You can see the small groups of people trickling into the gallery, the lights shining out by the entrance cutting across them as they step inside, but your eyes are immediately drawn to Jungkook. He’s been looking down at his phone but as soon as you start to approach it’s like he can sense that you’re there, eyes rising from his screen and zoning in on you immediately. 

You stop in your tracks. His face lifts and splits into a wide smile and you smile helplessly back. He’d said the dress code for tonight was smart-casual, and he looks so good dressed like this. You love his turtleneck jumper.

“Hi,” he says. “Wow, you look good.”

“Hi,” you respond, breathless. You feel winded from his compliment and from the blush that’s rising on his face, even if he’s keeping his gaze locked on yours. “You do too.”

You stare at each other for what feels like eons when someone brushes past you and it snaps the two of you out of the moment, and Jungkook coughs. “Um. Should we go in?”

It’s busier inside than you thought. The gallery isn’t exactly small but the layout isn’t entirely straightforward and people keep clustering in certain areas and getting in the way, distracted by the photos on display. You have to wade through one particularly large group of people to get back to Jungkook, who’s been waiting for you on the other side; he looks concerned on your behalf, and when someone makes a move to walk between the two of you he reaches out for your hand, cutting off their path. Your hand feels so small in his, so warm in his grasp.

“I didn’t realise there’d be so many people here,” he mutters, looking around. You entwine your fingers with his and he startles, glancing at where your hands are joined, like he hadn’t noticed that he’d reached out for you. 

You abruptly feel embarrassed and you’re about to let go when Jungkook squeezes your hand. You glance up and he’s looking away from you, back of his neck red, but he’s not letting go.

“I think Tae’s stuff is a bit further in,” he says. “Let’s go.”

You trail after Jungkook, who keeps his pace matched to yours. It’s a little quieter back here so it’s easy to find who you’re looking for; when you spot a man with bright blue hair he waves wildly in your direction and Jungkook brightens.

“Kookie! Hi!” 

Jungkook lets go of your hand when he’s swept into a hug, and before you can introduce yourself, you’re swept into a hug, too.

“I’m Vante,” the blue-haired man says once he lets you go. “But you can call me Taehyung. Vante is my photographer name. I think it sounds cooler. Don’t you?”

“I think Taehyung is a lovely name,” you say, unphased by how full on Taehyung seems to be. “But Vante sounds really cool, too.”

Taehyung beams at you. “I like you,” he announces. “Y/n, right? Jungkook mentioned you.”

You cough into your palm, trying to act like you’re not supremely flustered right now; when you’re not looking, Jungkook hits Taehyung on the shoulder. “Yeah, that’s right,” you say, looking up. Both boys have innocent expressions on their faces. “Can I have a look at your photos?”

Taehyung is an incredibly talented photographer. You don’t need to be an expert to know that. He has a series of scenic and nature shots, some in colour, some in black and white; he enthusiastically answers your questions about each one, about the background of them and why he takes photos of what he does. Jungkook walks quietly behind you and is content to watch as the two of you talk, chest warmed by how well you’re getting on with each other.

You round a corner to another wall, and Taehyung gestures dramatically at the collection lined across it. “And these are my portrait photos,” he says. “There’s even one of Kookie up here, even if he gets embarrassed whenever I mention it.”

Sure enough, Jungkook is blushing. 

“Take me to it,” you say firmly, and Taehyung laughs out loud before he does just that. It’s a black and white shot, Jungkook in profile as he looks towards the camera, endless ocean waves and sky behind him. “Jungkook, you’re such a good model,” you say, smiling softly at it. 

Jungkook’s gone bright red, and you’ve honestly missed this sight, even if you’re glad that he’s not shy with you any more. “Taehyung’s just good at taking photos,” he says, voice high with embarrassment.

“I have a lot more photos of Jungkookie that aren’t on display,” Taehyung pipes up, and Jungkook looks like he wants the ground to open up and swallow him. “You’ll have to visit my studio some time so I can show them to you.”

You have Taehyung’s business card carefully stowed away in your bag as you walk home, arms swinging by your sides; you unintentionally brush your hand against Jungkook’s, but before you can say sorry he’s taken it as an invitation to hold your hand again. The apology dies on your lips as he slots his fingers between yours and you smile at him instead.

“Taehyung is so cool,” you say. “And talented, too. I love his photos.”

“I’m glad you both get on so well,” Jungkook says. “Sometimes people seem to think Taehyung is… I don’t know. He can come on a bit strong, I guess.”

“He’s great.” You frown. “I’m going to fistfight anyone who’s mean to him.”

Jungkook laughs and squeezes your hand.

He insists on walking you up to your door, keeping hold of your hand as he follows you inside your apartment building. You feel somewhat abashed at how wide his eyes go at how nice it is inside here. You’re not on the same level as, say, Stephen King or George R.R. Martin, but you make a pretty decent amount of money from your books and it shows.

Jungkook doesn’t actually know what you do. You’ve vaguely alluded to the fact that you’re a writer, but that could mean any number of things; for all he knows you could pen the agony aunt column in a magazine (you imagine that would be pretty fun, actually). You keep waiting for the right opportunity to come clean about your pseudonym but nothing’s presented itself yet.

“Do you want to come in? My friend Seokjin makes killer brownies and I’ve got a box of them still in the fridge,” you say. “He always makes way more than I can eat myself.”

Jungkook seems torn. He wants to see inside your apartment, you can tell, but he also probably doesn’t want to seem intrusive— even if you’re offering.

“I hate wasting food so you’d be doing me a real favour,” you add, and Jungkook relents.

“Alright,” he says, and you smile to yourself as you unlock your door.

You’ve been giving flowers to other people, too— Seokjin and Jimin and Namjoon and even Hoseok have been receiving the gifts of your bounty— but only the premade bouquets. The ones that Jungkook puts together are ones that you keep for yourself. It’s far less overwhelming now than it had been a while ago, only a few floral arrangements here and there, but it’s obvious from Jungkook’s expression that he recognises each bouquet.

He ends up sitting at your breakfast bar as you dig the brownies out of your fridge, and he smiles in delight as you warm up some milk. It’s getting late, and you know Jungkook doesn’t like coffee, anyway.

(You’ve learned a lot about Jungkook in the past few months.)

“Which one is Seokjin?” He asks around a mouthful of brownie. You’ve retired to your living room and Jungkook is peering at the strings of fairy lights you have on the wall, Polaroids of your friends and family clipped along its wire. “This one?”

“No, that’s Namjoon,” you say. You stand up from the couch and scooch next to Jungkook so you can point. “He’s Jimin’s boyfriend— which is this guy here. That’s Seokjin,” you point. “All my favourite people. Ah, don’t look at this one, it’s me and Jimin when we were back in school. We look like such dorks. Look at our hair.”

“You look cute,” Jungkook says, and you try not to blush. “Wait, is that me?”

Your collection of Jungkook photos has been growing exponentially over time. The one he’s looking at is a picture of himself in Spring Day, bent over a bucket of roses, fingers cupping the pink flowers as he smiles at them; he’s said he’s okay with you taking photos, but maybe he meant when he was actually aware of you taking them.

“Um, yeah,” you say. You feel weirdly embarrassed. “I can take it down if you want? Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay.” Jungkook’s staring at the glowing light next to the photo, avoiding your eyes. “I just didn’t think I’d be on the wall with the rest of your, uh, favourite people.”

Your mouth falls open. You don’t know what to say. Normally you’d scoff at him and say duh, of course you are, but for some reason you can’t summon the courage right now. The words catch in your throat.

Luckily, Jungkook seems to notice another photo. “Oh, is that from your school prom? Wait. Are you on crutches?”

You laugh, glad for the distraction. “Oh, yeah! Jimin persuaded me to sneak out of my house a few weeks before that because I was under curfew but there was a party we were both desperate to go to. Needless to say, climbing out of my window didn’t go so well. I was on crutches for ages after that. It wasn’t so bad, honestly. People felt sorry that I couldn’t dance so they kept sitting with me and feeding me cupcakes out of pity. They were delicious,” you say with a smile. “Never did get to do that end of school dance I’d planned with Jimin, though. That’s the only thing that was bad about it.”

Jungkook’s face twists. You’re too busy looking at the photo and reminiscing to notice, but you do notice when he steps back. You turn, confused as Jungkook holds his hand out and looks at you expectantly.

“What?”

“I know it’s a bit late, and I’m not Jimin, but you can have that end of school dance.” Jungkook wiggles his eyebrows at you. “I promise I won’t step on your feet.”

You giggle, but you can feel a blush threatening to fight its way onto your cheeks. There’s a storm of butterflies in your stomach. “But there’s no music,” you say. “How can we dance without music?”

Jungkook shrugs. “I’ll sing for us,” he says. He steps forward, hand still proffered, and you slide your hand into his, unable to deny him. 

It’s been years since Jimin’s taught you the basic waltz, and you’re a little stiff because of it, but your body seems to remember the steps as Jungkook slowly leads you. You’re staring at your feet while Jungkook hums, but once you have the rhythm down he opens his mouth and starts to sing; you look up from the floor, your eyes helplessly drawn to his. 

His voice is soft and honeyed, words sweet as they hang in the air. You’re so entranced by the deep, warm brown of his eyes that it takes you longer than it should to recognise the lyrics of the song: 10,000 hours, transformed by Jungkook’s mellifluous voice.

He leads you into a turn, and when you come back together it’s a little clumsy and you giggle. Jungkook smiles at you as he continues to sing. The laughter leaves you feeling light and sparkling, like there’s a fountain bubbling inside you, and all the stiffness finally falls away from your limbs. The waltz becomes more of a swaying dance as you let your arms drop, Jungkook’s arm sliding around your waist as you step closer to him, and you end up turning in small circles in the middle of your living room as Jungkook murmurs a love song into your ear.

You suddenly realise that you’ve never been happier than you are right now: dancing in your living room in the circle of Jungkook’s arms as he sings to you, a romantic cliché that’s somehow become true for you. For you. With someone as incredible as Jungkook.

You’re never happier than when you’re with Jungkook.

Holy shit.

You’re in love with Jungkook.

The final note of the song lingers in the air as he comes to an end, the resonance of a bell that slowly fades. He smiles at you as you slowly come to a stop, still nestled in each other’s embrace as your feet finally become still.

“I’m so glad I broke my leg,” you say suddenly, and Jungkook laughs outright, face squeezing up in the way that you love so much.

You’re in love with him.

You watch as he slips his shoes back on. You feel helpless and untethered in a lot of ways, but at the same time, you’ve never felt more sure about anything. When he flashes you a smile, you can’t help but smile back— but that’s always been the case, hasn’t it?

“Hey,” you say suddenly, just after Jungkook’s finished shrugging his coat on. “I know you’ve just, um, gotten ready to go and everything, but can I quickly show you something?” Your heart is thudding in your chest. 

Jungkook blinks. “Sure.”

You give him a jerky nod before turning on your heel and walking down the corridor to swing the door open to your office. Jungkook follows behind you, waiting in the doorway as you flick the light on; he makes a noise when he notices the frame hanging on your wall, the flowers of the corsage that you’d dried and pressed safe behind the glass.

You don’t respond. You’re too busy taking a moment to suck in a deep breath and steel yourself before you open your filing cabinet to pull out a stack of papers, sheaves of writing that are stapled together— the very first, unedited drafts of each of your novels, kept for posterity.

“I, um, don’t really know how to say this.” You stare at your hands as you shuffle through the booklets. “I haven’t told anyone new in a long time, so I guess I’m out of practice, but, uh.” You’re so nervous that you’re light-headed. “Autumn Lovett is actually my pen name. These are drafts of my novels if you think I’m lying,” you say, shoving the paper at Jungkook’s chest; he grabs them before they fall to the ground. “Um. So. Yeah. Taa-daa?”

You feel like you’ve run a marathon. Your heart is racing and your lungs are struggling to take in air. You can’t look at Jungkook. You’re staring at the ceiling instead, dreading his reaction.

When he makes a noise, however, your head snaps down. He’s crouched in the middle of your office with your drafts held over his face.

“Jungkook?” You say, panicked, and he makes the same noise again.

“Oh my God,” he whines, muffled behind the paper. You squat down to grip his hands and pull them away from his face, worried; when it’s finally revealed he’s bright red and he looks mortified. “I can’t believe I recommended your own books to you,” he all but wails. “And I gushed like a fanboy in front of you about them too. Oh my God. I’m so sorry.”

You don’t mean to but you laugh. Jungkook tries to hide his face again but you pull the drafts out of his hands and send them scattering to the floor. “Oh, Jungkook,” you say, overflowing with affection. “You don’t have to apologise. I found it flattering, actually.”

He doesn’t seem bothered that you hadn’t told him sooner. He doesn’t care that you’ve been keeping it a secret. He’s just embarrassed. He stays embarrassed as he helps you gather up the papers, and he stays embarrassed as you return your own book that he’d let you borrow, and he stays embarrassed as he heads towards your front door for the second time that night. 

“I do, um, really like your work,” he says, shy as he fiddles with your door handle. “I’m really looking forward to your next novel. I’m not just saying that to be nice because I know who you are now.” His eyes are wide as he looks up at you. “I mean it.”

Your heart feels full to the brim with fondness. “I know,” you say. “I believe you. I— you can have a read through it before it’s published, actually, as long as you promise not to leak it.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen even further before he holds his hand out. “Pinky promise.”

You giggle as you hook your finger with his. “Pinky promise.”

Once Jungkook’s left you immediately sit down at your computer and write and write and write— it’s like the words just won’t stop. They come pouring out of you, and endless torrent that you don’t try to rein in. You write for so long you end up crashing at your desk, face smooshed against your keyboard as you drool in your sleep.

(“I don’t know how to dance,” Yunhee says, and Lily just smiles.

“Me neither,” she says. “We can learn together.”

They keep stepping on each other’s feet. It’s clumsy and messy and they keep dissolving into laughter between apologies to each other, but it’s perfect, because it’s Yunhee. 

It’s perfect, because it’s Yunhee, with Lily: because it’s them, together.)

--

“I’ve finished my novel,” you announce, and all the men at the table sit up.

“Wow.” Namjoon blinks at you. “I thought you weren’t due to publish for, what, another six months?”

“What can I say? I’ve been inspired.” You smile down into your glass before taking a drink of your orange juice.

Seokjin stares at you before he leans back in his chair. He’s always been able to read you through and through, and that perceptiveness doesn’t leave him now. “Ah,” he says. “You’re in love.”

You’re in the middle of swallowing your juice and nearly choke, spluttering. Namjoon pats your back with concern while his boyfriend looks askance.

“You’re in love and you didn’t tell me?” Jimin sounds affronted. “Who is it? Are they cute? Where are you hiding them? I knew you were lying about those flowers, you lying liar.”

“I wasn’t lying,” you wheeze, finally coughing the last remnants of orange juice out of your windpipe. “Well, I guess it was kind of a half lie? I was buying them, but, uh, he made them.” You fiddle with the napkin in your lap as Seokjin coos at you.

“You fell in love with a florist,” he says. “You’re literally living in an AO3 fanfic. That’s adorable.”

“Shut up,” you hiss, and Jin just laughs when you try to kick him under the table and nearly hit Namjoon instead.

“It sounds romantic,” Namjoon agrees, apparently unphased by how close he was to getting nailed in the shins.

Jimin slaps his small hand against the table. “You haven’t answered any of my questions, snake. I know what you’re like, Y/n— get the Polaroid out of your bag. We need to judge your new beau.”

Jimin’s right. He knows exactly what you’re like, the helpless romantic that you are; the three men shuffle their heads together to peer at the photo of Jungkook, the one where he’s surrounded by the sunset.

“He’s fucking cute,” Jimin decides immediately. “I’m almost offended you haven’t introduced him to us yet. You should invite him to our house-warming party. Namjoon agrees.”

You look at Namjoon, who nods despite not being consulted. “You’re so whipped,” you mutter at him. He just shrugs. “Anyway,” you continue, raising your voice over Jimin’s and Jin’s muttered conversation as they continue to stare at your photo of Jungkook. “I’m going to hold fire on the house-warming party invitation for now, because, um, I haven’t actually said anything to him yet.”

Your eyes are cast down as you say this, affixed to the sight of your hands in your lap. You’ve still been visiting Spring Day, of course, and you’ve started to see Jungkook more and more outside of work as well; each time you meet him you fall a little bit more in love. It’s almost terrifying how easy it is to fall for him.

“Y/n.” Jimin’s voice is sober and you glance up from your lap to take in the worried look on his face. “I know it must be scary—”

“Oh gosh, Minnie, I love you, but it’s okay, you don’t need to give me a pep-talk on how I’m a 10/10 and anyone would be blessed to have me,” you interrupt. “I haven’t been putting off confessing because I think he’s going to pull a Jin and turn me down—”

“Hey,” Jin says mildly. He knows you’re joking. You got over that ages ago.

“—but I, um, emailed him my book yesterday, actually,” you finish. “What he does once he’s finished reading it is up to him.”

Jimin is right. It is scary. But Jungkook is worth the potential pain and heartache. He is. He’s always so lovely to you, always so considerate; he sings for you and dances with you and he’s even painted for you, a small canvas covered in favourite flowers, ones that won’t die. Last week when he’d dropped you off at your apartment, he’d brushed his lips across your cheek before practically sprinting away, and your heart had exploded in your chest. 

You have no idea how someone as amazing as Jungkook sees something worthwhile in you, so it's hard to come to grips with, but there’s no way you’re reading this wrong. There’s no way.

The table goes quiet and then Jin leans forward and takes your hands in his. “I can’t believe you’re confessing to him with your book,” he says. “This really is an AO3 fanfic. Hashtag slow burn.”

This time, when you kick him, you don’t miss.

You spend the rest of the day with your coterie of doofuses and by the time you get home you’re ready to relax. You’ve just finished getting into your pyjamas, flopping down onto your sofa when there’s suddenly a hammering at your door. You sit up, startled at the noise. The knocking doesn’t let up as you approach the door and you’re wary, but once you look through the peephole you immediately swing it open.

“Jungkook? Are you okay?”

He’s wild-eyed and windswept and his chest is heaving as he sucks in air. You stare at him with concern as he catches his breath.

“Yoongi let me have the day off,” he says. You blink at him.

“Okay? Did you want to go out somewhere? Now? You’ll have to let me change, though, my pyjamas aren’t exactly great evening wear.”

“I’ve spent the whole day reading your book,” Jungkook says, and your heart goes still in your chest before it starts beating at double time.

“Oh,” you say. “Um. What, uh. What did you think?”

Jungkook’s face has taken on an expression that you’ve become intimately familiar with, a similar look to the one he’d been giving you that night by the river, soft and open and warm and— you can see it now, as time has gone by— full of love. He cups your face in his hands and rests his forehead against yours, dark eyes drinking you in, the smile on his lips so lovely and sweet. Just for you.

“I love you,” he says, and then he kisses you.

He keeps cradling your face in his hands, his lips moving against yours in a way that’s so tender that it makes you want to cry; you’ve never felt so wrapped up in someone’s touch like this, like you can feel exactly how precious you are to him just from the touch of his lips against yours. You know it’s a cliché to say that it feels like fireworks going off in your chest, but it does, every single one of the butterflies that have been nestled in your ribcage exploding into flames and brightness, sparkling heat that shines out of you every second Jungkook keeps kissing and kissing and kissing you.

Kissing Jungkook feels like every romantic fantasy you’ve ever written into your books is coming true all at once. You’re not unwanted, undesirable, unlovable: he wants you, he desires you, he loves you. 

(He loves you.)

It feels like every flower he’s ever given you is flushing to full bloom all at once, spilling out of your chest, brightness and colour and life curling around your heart. All those years spent quietly hoping, culminating in this moment: Jeon Jungkook pressing his lips against yours, keeping you steady as you lean into him, and you feel like all that waiting and yearning and wanting was worth it if you got to meet him at the end of it all. You’ve finally got your storybook ending.

No, actually— it’s just the beginning. 

You’re still standing in your doorway when you part, Jungkook’s hands splayed across your jaw as you give him a smile so wide it almost hurts. 

“I love you too,” you say. “If that wasn’t already obvious.”

Jungkook chuckles and you can’t help but lean into the sound, eyes slipping shut as you turn your head and rest your forehead against his jaw. “I had to reread some parts because I didn’t think I was reading it right,” he admits, and you keep smiling. “I thought there was no way it could be real.”

How could Jungkook ever have any doubts? How could Jungkook think that there was no way that you could love him? Does he not realise how amazing he is? How wildly lucky you feel that somehow— with all your flaws and blemishes and imperfections— he loves you back?

“What made you come around?”

“Yoongi-hyung took one look at the last page and threw a roll of ribbon at my head,” Jungkook says, and you laugh, and Jungkook laughs, and the two of you are laughing and laughing and laughing. You feel like you could float away, buoyant with happiness; only Jungkook’s presence is keeping your feet on the ground. “I hope you don’t mind that I let him read it.”

“It’s okay.” You tilt your head back to look at Jungkook. He’s staring at you like you’re the sun and he’s turning towards you, a fierce and beautiful tiger lily blooming in your light. “I wouldn’t mind if you sent free copies of the book to everyone in the world if it meant I’d have you at the end of it.”

Jungkook smiles at you. It’s bright and wide and his eyes are crescents as his nose scrunches and he flashes his teeth, and you love him. “Purple rose, lilac, baby’s breath,” he says, and you recognise the flowers of the corsage he’d given you, all those months ago. “Love at first sight, first love, everlasting love.”

You stare at him in disbelief. “Shut up,” you breathe. He'd seen you as worth loving, even then? “Shut up. You did not— you did not confess that you had a crush on me with flowers? After we’d only met twice?” 

“Maybe I did.” Jungkook’s smile turns cheeky and you love him.

“I can’t believe you. I can’t believe me. You were literally reading a book about flower language, how did I not— god. I love you,” you say helplessly, and he laughs before he kisses you again.

(“I love you.”

Yunhee freezes in place and looks up at Lily with wide eyes. Lily is terrified of being hurt again, terrified of Yunhee not returning all this endless love that she has in her heart— but Yunhee is worth that terror. She’s worth that pain. Even if she doesn’t feel the same, she needs to know how loved she is. How brilliant and lovely and wonderful she is, her Yunhee, her love.

Yunhee opens her mouth to reply, and says:

-

How this story ends is up to you, Jungkook. I’ll be waiting. - Y/n)

[sfb123]

The Final Goodbye - Chapter 1

Book: The Royal Romance, Book 2

Pairing: Liam x Riley

All characters belong to Pixelberry.

Description: In a slight canon divergence from book 2, Riley reaches her breaking point with the engagement tour and decides to restart her life when the court gets to NYC. Can the rest of the group clear her name, and convince her to come back before it’s too late? 

Rating: PG (I think there are a few swear words in there, very angsty, but otherwise pretty mild)

Word Count: 1,496

A/N: So, I did a thing. This started as a one shot that I half wrote like a month ago and gave up on. Then I got haunted by Whitney Houston (and later, when she got sick of bugging me, she moved on to @jessiembruno, I’m assuming to send her to harass me about finishing). This week, inspiration struck and I finished it...and it became a mini-series. So look forward to this over the next 4 Wednesdays. 

A couple of quick shout outs I wanted to get out there: @callmeellabella, thank you for being so sweet and taking a look at the snippet I provided. @queenrileyrose, thank you for taking the time to chat with me, I hope the story lives up to the hype I gave it. 

A not so quick shout out to @jessiembruno, I pretty much annoyed you every step of the way in writing this one, sharing screenshots, and letting you know every time that damn song showed up in my life. Your notes when you read it for me gave me so much encouragement, you were invaluable in helping me get through that last emotional push at the end. Hell, you even titled the thing! I don’t know why we hurt Liam the way we do, but I know in the end, we’ll always give him a happy ending (wait...not like that...well, maybe sometimes like that). 

Tags: Listed below. If you’d like to be added or removed, just let me know! 

Riley sat on the rooftop overlooking New York City, Maxwell rattling off the different images he saw in the stars as she got lost in her thoughts. They were in New York as the last leg of Liam and Madeleine’s engagement tour. Soon, they would be going back to Cordonia where she would be expected to sit in a cathedral and watch the love of her life marry another woman. 

They had been investigating the scandal that came out at the coronation for weeks, and didn’t seem to be any closer to finding Tariq. As the time ran out, Riley’s hope of a cleared name faded further and further away. Could she really go back there and watch another woman steal her happily ever after? She was already in New York, it would be easy to just stay and try to start her life back up again. Honestly, if she wasn’t going back there to marry Liam, what was the point of going back at all? Sure, she had made a couple of great friends, but there were a million and one ways for them to stay in touch. Or ghost them, to avoid hearing about Liam and his wife. She wasn’t quite sure which option she would choose once all was said and done.    

She weighed out the pros and cons, and finally decided that she would not be returning to Cordonia with the rest of the court. But she wasn’t going to tell anyone, she wasn’t going to give them the opportunity to team up on her and talk her into going back. And she certainly wasn’t going to tell Liam, he had already talked her into being the other woman for this entire tour, a moniker she swore she would never take on in her lifetime. She knew she wouldn’t be able to say no to him, and would be convinced to come back to Cordonia and be miserable. She would do it tonight, once they returned to the hotel, she would get her things together, and sneak out while everyone else slept. Daniel had an extra room, conveniently, he was using it to store the stuff she didn’t bring with her when Maxwell whisked her away. 

“Earth to Riley. Are you even listening? I’m dropping some of my A+ material right now.” Maxwell waved his hand in front of her face, snapping her out of her thoughts. “Where’d you go?”

“Sorry Max, I was just thinking. Must have zoned out a little.”

“It’s ok, I get it. There’s a lot going on right now.” He replied empathetically, suddenly jumping to his feet in excitement. “I know, let’s go out!”

“We are out.” She looked up at him.

“No, not boring UN Gala out. Fun out! I’ll grab everyone, the dream team will cheer you up!”

Riley paused to think about it for a second. If she wasn’t going to give her friends a proper goodbye, maybe one last adventure would be the perfect way to remember them. They could do it up big, and then she would start over in the morning. She smiled softly at her friend before responding. “That sounds really nice Maxwell, I’d love to.”

“Yes!” Maxwell raised his fist in the air and pulled her into a hug. “You go back to the hotel and change, I’ll get the gang together and text you where to meet.”

Riley went back to the hotel and put on some more comfortable clothes. Something she would typically wear on a night out in New York. She didn’t want to start packing yet, in case Maxwell offered to walk her back to her room. She reached out to Daniel to make sure she could stay with him. Of course he said yes, while also trying to get the details. She promised to fill him in on everything when she got there. The more she thought about her plan, the more she started to worry. Maxwell said he was going to get everyone together. Did that mean Liam would be there? Would she be able to keep herself composed, and keep her secret, knowing that this would be the last time she would ever see him? She started second guessing her plan, she should have just left. Tonight was going to suck. 

She entered the bar, and immediately noticed Maxwell, Drake, and Hana in a corner booth. No Liam. She took a deep breath and approached them. “Hey guys!” She put on her cheeriest face. 

“Thank God, Brooks. Maxwell can harass you now.” Drake rolled his eyes and patted the seat next to him. 

Riley slid into the booth and put her arm around Drake, giving him a side hug. “Aww, poor Drakey. I’ll save you from big bad Maxwell.” Hana and Maxwell laughed, and Drake rolled his eyes. “So Maxwell, why this place? You know I’ve lived here for like ever, I could have picked.”

“No, this is your cheer up night, so I needed to find the perfect place, and this is it.” He gestured to the stage. “It’s karaoke night!” 

“So, if this is to cheer me up, and it’s karaoke night, does that mean Drake is going to serenade me?” She turned to face Drake, smiling sweetly and batting her eyelashes. 

“Fat chance.” Drake looked at Riley with a stern expression. “I’ll buy you drinks, that’s as cheery as you’re getting from me.”

“Sold!” She put her hand out and shook Drake’s. She signaled for the waitress to come over, and ordered a round of shots for the table, and a drink for herself.  

As the night went on, the group laughed and sang and told stories. Riley was having a great time, and wasn’t letting on in the slightest that this would be the last time they were all together. Maxwell had just come offstage from his third performance of the night, as he walked toward the table, his smile grew and he waved his hand to greet someone. “Liam, you made it!” 

Riley’s breath caught in her throat, and she could swear she felt her heart stop. She closed her eyes briefly to compose herself before standing and turning toward the door to greet him. “Hey, I didn’t know you were coming.”

Liam’s eyes started to sparkle the second they met hers, his smile lighting up at the sight of her. She looked just as beautiful as she did the night they met, he loved when she was dressed casually. Sure, she was stunning in ballgowns and expensive designer clothes, but this was her. Authentic Riley. The Riley that had captured his heart. “It took me some time to get away, but Maxwell said you needed cheering up, so this is where I need to be right now.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek gently. 

Suddenly, Riley was frozen. She wasn’t sure what to do, or what to say. Everything had been going so smoothly. Why did he have to show up? She couldn’t be there anymore. Not as long as he was. Now that she was faced with the reality of her plan, she didn’t know what she was thinking just leaving Liam without saying goodbye. Without telling him how much he truly meant to her. But she also knew she couldn’t give him a chance to talk her out of it. She decided she would use this opportunity to sing her feelings. 

“I have to go. It’s my turn to sing.” She turned away from Liam abruptly, pulling the shot glass out of Drake’s hands before it could reach his lips, bringing it to hers and throwing her head back. With that, she walked to the front of the bar.

After a quick conversation with the DJ, she walked to the microphone and looked down. As the music started, she looked up and locked eyes with Liam. She proceeded to sing ‘I Will Always Love You’ while keeping her eyes locked on his. Their friends looked back and forth between the two of them, seeing the pain in both of their expressions. As the songs continued, Riley was finding it harder and harder to keep her emotions in check. She started to avoid Liam’s gaze, only glancing up at him occasionally. To most of the room, it sounded like she was leaning heavily on her vibrato, but her friends all knew that was her emotions getting the best of her. 

Once the song finished, she placed the microphone back on the stand and quickly ducked into the crowd, before any of her friends could catch up to her. She carefully made her way to the door and left the bar. She walked a few blocks before she lost the battle she was fighting with her tears. After taking some time to gather herself, she continued on her way to Daniel’s apartment. There was no way she would be able to go back to the hotel, she’d figure out how to get her stuff later. 

Permatags: @anjanettexcordonia @athena-penrose @chemist-ana @cordonia-gothqueen @cordoniaqueensworld @gabesmommie1130 @gkittylove99 @hopelessromanticmonie @iaminlovewithtrr @jessiembruno @kat-tia801 @khoicesbyk @kingliam2019 @lucy-268 @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @mile9213 @mom2000aggie @pixie88 @queenrileyrose @secretaryunpaid @sweatyrysconnoisseur @theroyalheirshadowhunter @twinkleallnight @txemrn

Liam X Riley:

@jared2612​

@choicesficwriterscreations​

[lovinglokilaufeyson]

G-Spot - D.M

*another gif from giphy, I can never find many of Draco on here*

Pairings: Draco x Reader

Warnings: First Time, Smut, Young Love, Fluff, Fingering

Wordcount: 1508

Summary: After the Yule Ball 4th year, you and Draco decide to take your relationship to the next level.

A/N: This was a request I got a while back, but never got around to writing because of the good ol’ college transition. Sorry it took me a bit, but I hope you guys enjoy it regardless. Also, just wanted to point out that I literally have 320 followers at the moment. WHICH IS ABSOLUTELY NUTS. I never thought that this blog would reach that amount of followers, and I am grateful for every single one of you. I will make an appreciation post because holy cow. If you enjoy Criminal Minds (another of my new obsessions) also go and check out 188, my Spencer Reid one shot. Again, I love you and appreciate you all, so very much. Hope you enjoy some more Draco. @anothevr​ thanks for this wonderful idea! I loved writing it. 

You and Draco had been dating since 2nd year. The Yule Ball marked your 2nd anniversary. People always told you that you two were just too different, that the relationship would never work. But you helped him mature, and he helped you adventure out of your comfort zone. You were a good match. Soon enough, he realized that constantly tormenting the Golden Trio was not necessary. He had better things to be doing. Thanks to you, not only had his grades improved, but his character. His parents loved you, you were a positive influence on the oftentimes troubled boy. 

The night of the Yule Ball, you dressed nicely. You wore a sleek dark green dress, doing your makeup to compliment the green hues. Your lips were a nice mauve color, not too overpowering. You curled your hair, pinning a couple of the front pieces at the back of your head. You couldn’t wait to see Draco. The feelings were mutual. He simply could not wait to see you. So much so that you caught him trying to sneak a peek at you in your dress. You quickly slammed the door in his face. “Draco, no!” “C’mon babe, just a peek?” “It’s bad luck” you answered. “You’re not getting married, sweets.” You rolled your eyes, but you gave in. “Fine...” Opening the door, he stood in awe, looking at you. 

“You look absolutely marvelous.” You blushed, looking at Draco who was standing closer now. “You’re so beautiful.” You kissed him, and he held you close. His hands drifted from your waist a little further down, and you held the nape of his neck. Suddenly, you felt Draco push you onto your bed, and you struggled with the thought. Did you really want to do this? At least - now? Draco ran his hands up and down your body, against the velvet texture of your lengthy dress. “You look gorgeous in this, darling. But I think it’d look better on the floor, if I’m honest.” You blushed, burying your head in your pillow. However, he soon began unzipping the dress from the side, and you had second thoughts. “Draco, Draco. Stop, please.” He obliged, immediately looking guilty for his actions. “Sorry, babe. I just can’t resist you like this.” He gave you a quick peck on the cheek as an apology. “We can wait.” 

-

At the dance, Draco was entirely a gentleman. His hands held you close to him - but only at the waist. No touching of your ass or your boobs, thankfully. Considering your past interaction, you thought he would be more touchy. You realized how deeply blessed you were to have him. And that - you wouldn’t want your first to be with anyone else. You loved Draco. 

You danced the night away with him, through party songs - as well as slow ones. You were so ecstatic to be with him. To end the night, a wonderful slow song played, and he held onto your back, and you, the nape of his neck. Swaying back and forth, you gazed into Draco’s gray blue eyes, smiling to yourself. “I love you, Draco.” You whispered. “I love you more, lovely.” He landed a kiss on your lips, which you happily returned. 

- 

Draco lead you upstairs, his intentions to simply walk you to your dorm. “Thank you, Draco, for such a wonderful night.” You thanked him, and he gave you another peck on your lips. “Thank you, Y/N.” After speaking for several minutes, Draco sighed, starting to head towards his own dorm. “Babe?” You asked, hoping to get his attention. “Yeah?” He turned around, heading back towards you. “I- um- could-” You stuttered, clearly nervous. “What is it love? Use your words...” “I could- I could stay with you. For tonight, I mean.” He nodded, excited to have you in his arms for the night. 

He lead you up the stairs and into his room. “Do you have something I could wear?” You asked suddenly. He nodded. “Well, if it isn’t nothing, you can wear one of my button ups - does that work?” You nodded back at him, hesitantly. You went into his bathroom to freshen up and change. You unzipped the side of your dress, slipping out of it. You took your heels off, and realized you didn’t have a place to hang your dress. Peeking out of the bathroom, you asked Draco for a hanger, which he levitated over to you. He winked, you think he realized that you were wearing a matching deep green set on of lacy lingerie. You could tell, even from the strap. He probably made some guesses, you assumed. 

You grabbed the hanger, closing the door once more. You hung up the dress with ease, leaving your heels in the bathroom. You took your bra off, hanging it with the dress. You grabbed Draco’s plain white shirt, sliding it over your shoulders and buttoning it up from the bottom. You left the top button undone, you didn’t want it to be strangled while trying to sleep. Bringing your hair towards the top of your head, you tied it into a messy bun. 

Exiting the bathroom, you were met with Draco, oozing sex on the bed. Well - you didn’t know exactly, but if you had to guess - that was it. He was scantily clad in only his boxers, looking at you, once again, in awe. “You look - amazing in my shirt, babygirl.” “Thank you, Draco.” You blushed. You dove into bed with him, immediately cuddling up to his figure. 

He let his hand run upon your thigh, teasingly. He laid you on your back, bringing his hand to your inner thigh, now. He pitter-pattered his fingers, and you smiled at him. You brought a swift kiss to his lips, letting it linger as he played with the band of your panties. He released the kiss suddenly, and you wondered if anything was wrong. “Everything okay, Draco?” You asked. He nodded, pecking your lips. “If you get uncomfortable at all - tell me. Let me know your boundaries, babe.” You nodded, bringing your lips back to his, pushing his lips apart. Your tongue twisted with his, fighting back and forth into each other’s mouths. 

After he finished playing with the band, he begun to pull them down your legs a bit. You lifted your pelvis to allow him to pull them down further. He brought his prodding fingers to your clit, playing with it. You began to moan tirelessly, loudly - though you tried to be quiet. “Y/N?” “Yes, Draco?” You responded. “Can I make love to you?” He asked, and you nodded, slowly. 

Within a few seconds, Draco had established a better position with you. He was spreading your legs, laying between them. He unbuttoned your - well, his - shirt. He pulled his boxer shorts down, and his dick rose further. He played with you a little bit further - “Merlin, you’re so ready for me.” You nodded, and he lined his dick up with you. He started slowly, and, unfortunately, you couldn’t feel too much. Well, you couldn’t tell if that was a good thing or a bad thing. 

“You okay?” Draco asked, sliding in a bit further. You could feel it more, now. Just a bit. “Yeah I-” “Does it feel good?” Draco interrupted, eagerly. “It hurts a bit.” You told him. “Okay. I’ll stop for a minute. Let you get used to me. Merlin, you’re so tight, babe.” Draco stopped for a moment, and once the pain had gone away, you gave him the okay. He began pumping out, and then back in. “Feel okay, babe?” “Yeah, no more pain, really.” “Does it feel good?” 

You sighed, and shook your head slightly. You needed to be honest with him. “Not really..” You stated. “Well, let’s see what we can do about that, sweets. I’m gonna try and find your g-spot, okay?” You nodded, slowly, hesitant. You felt Draco pull out - still lying on your back, he began to prod inside of you. He pushed down into your canal, and you sighed a little bit. “Is that it?” He asked. “I don’t think so, hon.” You sounded apologetic. He moved upwards a bit further, pushing. “Whoa whoa whoa” you moaned. “Youfoundityoufounditohmygodyoufo-undit” you muttered. “Merlin that feels so good.” “Good, baby. Good.” Draco sounded pleased, continuing to play his fingers in you. 

“Draco please god, it feels so good.” Draco began playing with your clit too. You moaned incessantly, him flicking your clit - clumsily, and running his finger along your special spot. “Draco I’m gonna-” “Come, baby.” You became undone on Draco’s fingers, shaking intensely, letting out a loud moan. “Draco!” 

“Good job, baby.” Draco smiled, coming up to face you, pecking your lips. “I’m sorry our first time wasn’t exactly-” You started, but Draco interrupted you. “No worries baby. It was perfect. We’ll try again soon.” You smiled, cuddling up to him. He was so perfect. And together, you two were perfect.