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nomi-c · 2 years

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Happy New Year

Word count: 1,7k

Genre: fluff, best friends to lovers

{Seong-Hwa x Reader}

Today is the day, New Year's Eve, the last day of the year. Usually you spend it with your 8 Best Friends Hong-Joong, Woo-young, San, Yun-ho, Jong-ho, Yeo-sang, Min-Gi and Seong-Hwa but this Year it all came different, most of them got Girlfriends so they wanted to spend the day with them, and on top of it you caught a cold so you couldn't meet them Tonight.

You were bummed about that, because you got a beautiful black glittery dress that looked just perfect on you, and you already searched Pinterest for inspirations on hairstyles and make up looks. You were bored and there wasn't anything interesting on the tv either, so you decided to glam yourself up anyways, even if no one would see you like this.

After taking a quick shower, you put on the dress, styled your hair into soft waves, that flowed down your waist, and decided on a dark Smokey eyes look, because why not? your favorite necklace that your longtime crush Seong-Hwa gave you as present on your birthday, it was a beautiful rose necklace and when he gave it to you, you shed some tears. Going all black you even put on black lipstick. Just when you were about to take a seat on your couch your phone rang, and you ran to pick it up.

"Hello love, how are you feeling?" Hwa said in a worried voice. Always the mom.

A little laugh escaped your lips. "I'm okay, bored but okay. What about you?" You said happy about his unexpected call.

"Oh, uhm I'm okay. I was gonna ask you if you'd like to come to my house today? I told the boys that I want to spend it with you. You don't need to do anything or bring anything." He sounded a little shy.

You started jumping like a little kid, happy about his invitation, and completely forgot about hwa, who waited for your answer.

"Y/n? Are you still there? If you're not well-" he started saying but you cut him off.

"I'll be there in 30 minutes! I just got my makeup and hair done and I even wear the new dress!" You told him all excited.

He started laughing "You did all that even though you were gonna stay at home alone?"

"Of course! I was gonna take some pictures and post them on my social media." You told him, and he laughed even more.

"Okay love, I'll see you in 30." He ended the call and suddenly you got nervous.

You never spend the New Year's Eve alone with someone, let alone your crush but you didn't have time to freakout now. You ran to your bathroom and put on your favorite fragrance, grabbed your matching black glitter high heels and your car keys, and left your small apartment.

Soon enough you stood nervously in front of Seong-Hwa's apartment door. After taking a deep breath, you rang the door bell, and soon enough the door was opened and your best friend stood before you.

His blonde hair was still damp from taking a shower, and pieces of it fell in his face, he held a towel in his right hand and ruffled it trough his hair to dry them. His suit shirt had a few buttons undone, his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and around his neck was a undone tie that hung down loosely. The shirt was tucked in, and he was wearing black suit pants.

Seeing him like this made your heart skip a few beats, only to beat faster afterwards.

Seong-Hwa looked at you admiringly. "You look breathtaking love. Please come on in, I'll be ready in 5 minutes." He gave you a shy smile, and leaded you on his spacious living room, candles lit up the room on a soft light, and a relaxing music was on low volume.

Before you could reply, he was already gone. You didn't feel like sitting down just yet, so you Walked over to the big windows, that overlooked Seoul effortlessly. To many people the big cities were frightening, but to you all those big buildings and lights from other apartments were calming.

Your gaze was focused on the Han river and the party boats that were making their way trough the night, when you felt a hand on your shoulder. You turned around and noticed that his hair was still damp, but Styled to perfection. He decided to ditch the tie and the buttons were still undone, now the same necklace you had was placed around his neck.

He got it when he got your present and he wore it everyday, even though everyone made fun of him for it, but he didn't care.

You gave him a soft smile. "Thank you for inviting me over Hwa."

There was a content silence between you, both of you taking in the beautiful view before you. After a while he started speaking again.

"I have to admit, when you would have said no, I would have dropped by your place." He was smiling a little, and his cheeks got a little rosy.

You turned him towards you and embraced him in a hug. "I'm happy you called me Hwa."

He nuzzled his head in your neck and hugged you a little tighter. Once you let go of each other, he hands you a glass of champagne.

You hadn't noticed before, because you were too focused on the view outside.

"Actually, I have a surprise for you." He told you smiling.

You stared at him with big eyes. "For me?"

He rolled his eyes. "No for the person next to you." You hit his shoulder. And he laughed.

"What is it? Show me!" You said all excited.

He walked over to his dining table and took the tie that was hanging over the chair, when he was right in front of you he had a cocky smile on his lips.

"I'd say close your eyes, but I know you won't play fair. So I'll have to blindfold you." He said as he started to put the tie over your eyes.

"Hey! I'm not a cheater!" You exclaimed, as he proceeded to blindfold you.

"Sure, love." He said with a sarcastic hint.

Once he was done, he took you by the hands and leaded you somewhere. After a little while he made you stop and carried you close to his chest.

"I'm sorry, but I don‘t want you to fall." He said shyly.

After a few seconds, he set you down and took a stand behind you, holding your shoulders softly.

"Are you ready?" He asked softly.

You could feel the light breeze on your face.

"I'm ready."

When he slowly removed the blindfold, you were in awe. He decorated the whole top terrace with cute lights, a outdoor couch and even a Beamer. Little Snacks were placed on a little table next to the outstretched couch and candles decorated the floor. At the sight you felt your eyes tear up.

"Hwa.... This is breathtaking! I can't believe you did all this!" You turned around and he looked at you softly with a satisfied smile.

"Thank you, but this isn't all." He told you and you couldn't believe it.

He revealed his hidden arm, and you saw six red roses.

Tears started flowing freely now. He wiped them away softly. "Take a Seat, Y/n."

You did as you were told, he took a seat right next to you, and pressed a button for the Beamer.

And in front of you, you saw videos Seong-Hwa took of him talking about plans you had, what you did as group this year, videos he made of you laughing with the boys all good moments of this year. You knew he said he had to edit videos, but you thought for the band.

Right when the video was about to end, Seong-Wha's face appeared on screen.

Hi Y/n, I hope you enjoyed this little flashback of 2021. before this year ends, I want to do something I was always to shy for.

He seemed so shy and adorable on the video that your smile grew big though the tears.

You always loved the necklace, so I decided to give you real roses now too.... do you know the meaning of roses?

Your head snapped in his direction. And he looked at you shyly.

I can't believe I'm really going trough with this.

Seong-Hwa stared deep into your eyes without saying a word. Your free hand was now holding your necklace, and your heart was racing.

maybe you already know the meaning of a Single Rose... it stands for love at first sight, and that's what it was for me the moment I first saw you. I couldn't tell you, because you're my best friend...

Your jaw dropped at this, and you couldn't believe what you just heard.

I couldn't tell you how much I like you, but I was hoping that maybe, just maybe you would know the meaning behind this. I got myself one too, because you know what two roses mean?

He softly held your cheek and grazed his thumb softly over your face.

"Deep love." His voice was raspy.

It means Deep Love Y/n. I was a coward over all this years, but I wanted to be brave this year. There's no better day than today to fulfill my biggest New Years solution... Do you happen to know what 6 roses mean?

His gaze got serious. "Do you?"

You shook your head slowly, and he laughed softly. "Of course you don‘t."

They mean 'I want to be yours.'

He gave you a big smile, and cupped your cheeks softly. "I love you Y/n, I always did. Would you allow me to be your boyfriend?"

Your heart stopped beating at his confession. You couldn't speak and tears still flowed down your face, your smile grew big, and you nodded yes.

The New year is about Start. Let's count! 3...2...1...

Before you could realize what happened, his lips connected with yours in a soft and sweet kiss.

Once you parted, both of you had a big smile plastered on your face. "Happy New Year, love."

Authors note: Happy New Years guys! I wish you a good start to the new year, and much luck and health and joy! 🥂💗

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maybedefinitely404 · 3 years

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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

#lywrites #tsshipmonth2020 #virgil sanders #remus sanders #dukexiety #sanders sides soulmate au #soulmate september #ts soulmate au #sanderssides #sanderssidesfanfiction

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auburnaudry · 3 years

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Am I Your Forever? - Brock Boeser

A/N: I had lots of free time this weekend now that I’m taking a break from my series. I love Brock and this has been living in my head for a while so I finally decided to write it. I also just wanted to get this out so it’s super unedited, sorry in advance.

Summary: You wanted Brock to be your forever but sometimes he says things that make you think your not his end game. (Ends super fluffy)

Word count: 2410 words

You and Brock had been dating for almost 4 years. He was it for you and you assumed you were it for him, you were perfect for eachother. Your relationship obviously had its challenges but nothing you two couldn’t figure out and over come.

You both were getting ready for Bo and Hollys engagement party and of course Brock was ready way before you.

You were putting your last earring in when Brock came up behind you, slipping his arms around your waste and placing sweet kisses on your exposed shoulder.

“You almost ready” he whispered as his mouth was still attached to you shoulder. He looked up at you through the mirror and your heart melted at the sight.

“Yeah I just need to get dressed then I’ll be ready” he nodded against your shoulder and kept you in his arms, closing his eye for a few seconds.

“Which I can only do if you let go of me” you continued. He chuckled and placed one last kiss to your neck as he let his hands fall slowly down your hips until he wasn’t touching you anymore.

You walked over to your shared closet and slowly slipped your clothes off, leaving you in just your underwear. You took the dress you planned on wearing off it’s hanger and slipped it on. You quickly turned around to call for Brock to help you with the zipper but he was already standing in front of you, leaning on the frame of the closet door.

Brocks cheeks turned a light shade of pink as he was clearly caught watching you changed. Even after almost 4 years of being together he still blushed at innocent moments like that and it made you fall more in love every single time.

“Can you please zip it bubs?” You asked him with a smirk. He didn’t answer, just walked over and motion for you to turn around. He left small kisses on your exposed back as he zipped you up. When he finished zipping the dress he slipped his arms around your waste again.

“Now are we ready? We going to be late if we don’t head over soon.” You and Brock were usually late to most casual events that didn’t have an exact start time. You both got teased about it, everyone thinking you two just couldn’t keep your hands off eachother. But in reality, you too just enjoyed taking your time to get ready and were never in a rush. It’s one of the reasons you two fit so perfectly together, you never put too much pressure on things, you both liked to go with the flow.

The ride over to the party was comfortably silent. You guys were enjoying each others company and the last bit of quiet before you were stuck with hours of loud music and constant talking.

Your stared out the window thinking about you and Brocks future engagement, how fun it will be to be engaged to your best friend and the love of your life. You two didn’t talk about the future too often because, again, you both liked to go with the flow. The few times it did come up though, he seemed excited and like a future with you was something he wanted.

When you arrived to the party, you were pulled from you thoughts by Brocks hand giving yours a squeeze.

“You ready?” He questioned.

“Always” your go to response anytime he asked you that. You entered the party hand in hand and began greeting everyone you knew.

Later on in the evening, you were sitting at your table with other canucks players and their significant others. These people had become family to you in the time that you’ve been with Brock, so the entire night had been filled with laughs and light hearted conversation.

“So are you guys next?” Micaela spoke looking in yours and Brocks direction. Before you had the chance to answer though, Brock spoke.

“No definitely not” he said laughing. Everyone else at the tabled laughed along. You just gave a small smile, pretending to not be hurt by his words. You weren’t one to make a scene and say something in front of other people so you bottled it up and hoped that you would have enough courage to bring it up when you two made it home.

The rest of the night, you were consumed by your own thoughts. Why did he sound so disgusted at the thought of marrying you? Your heart physically ached. Were you stupid to think he was the one?

You tried your best to seem unfazed by his comment but it kept eating away at you.

“You okay babe?” Brock whispered in your ear on the dance floor. You were lucky because he too hated drawing attention to your problems in public.

“Of course, just tired.” You weren’t sure if you voice was convincing enough, but it must have been because Brock dropped it.

“Me too, we can head home soon.” And within the next 30 mins you were saying your goodbye and congratulating Bo and Holly on your way out.

The ride home was quiet, but not the comfortable silence you felt on the way to the party. But you didn’t want to bring up your feelings. You were embarrassed that you were on a completely different page than your boyfriend.

As soon as the car was parked, you hopped out and went inside. You stripped your clothes and threw on your Pjs, too tired to even take a shower. You wiped your makeup off with a wipe and washed your face. As you started to brush your teeth Brock walked into the bathroom. He wrapped his arms around your middle again and kissed your cheek.

“Your sure your okay? You seem off.” He asked looking you directly in your eyes through the mirror in front of you. The eyes contact made you nervous so you looked down at the sink and nodded since you couldn’t respond with your mouth full of toothpaste.

You finished your nightly routine and crawled into bed. Shortly after, Brock turned all the lights off and crawled into bed next to you. He pulled you into his chest and kissed the top of your head.

“I love you baby girl, goodnight” you could tell Brock was a little worried about you but didn’t want to push things, so he didn’t bring it up again. He knew you would bring it up to him if something was really bothering you or when you were ready.

“Love you too, night” and with that you both went to sleep.

...

You and Brock were having a relaxing day at home with the puppies. It was rare that you got an entire day to spend together doing whatever you wanted so you decided on staying home and just enjoying each others company.

You were cuddled up on the couch talking about anything and everything with the TV playing in the background. You were interrupted by Brocks phone buzzing from under you and you were forced to get up and look for it.

“Hey mom” he answers the FaceTime call when he finally found the phone between the couch cushions. You also say hello and then leave to go grab a snack from the kitchen. When you got back to the couch, you focused on the TV while Brock continued his conversation with his mother.

“So when are you two going to get married.” Laurie asked. You weren’t paying much attention before so you weren’t sure how it even came up, but now you were completely focused on how Brock was going to respond.

“Couldn’t tell you, stop asking.” Again your heart sank into your stomach. This is now the second time he was asked about marrying you and his response was the same both times.

Just like the night of the engagement party a couple weeks earlier, you got lost in your thoughts again, questioning your entire relationship.

They continued talking for a little bit and eventually you and Brock said your goodbyes to Laurie. You stayed quiet for the rest of the day and avoided Brocks touch. You were so upset, but again you were too embarrassed to even bring up how you were feeling.

That night you decided to take a bath. You didn’t take baths often but loved it when you had the time. You always asked Brock if he wanted to join, but tonight you were too upset with him. So when he took the dogs on their walk, you went to the bathroom and shut the door.

You filled the bath with bubbles and a fun LED light to set the mood. You had just recently installed a TV in the bathroom for nights like this, so you turned on your favorite show and got into the tub. It was really calm and relaxing for about 5 mins but your body tensed up when you heard Brocks voice.

“Babeeee?” He called through the house. You could hear his footsteps get closer to the master bedroom “Bubs are you in here?” You didn’t respond. You thought maybe he would give up after looking in the master bedroom, but you were wrong.

He must have noticed the bathroom door was shut and the lights were on because soon after he called for you he knocked lightly on the door.

“Hey baby you in there?” His voice was sweet, laced with a little bit of concern, probably since you weren’t in the spot he had left you before he walked the dogs.

“Yeah babe.” You tried your best not to give away the fact that you were upset. You heard the door handle jiggle followed by the squeaking of the hinges as Brock opened the door to peak his head in.

“You didn’t tell me it was bath time.” He looked at you, a little hurt that you didn’t invite him.

“Sorry” was the only response you could think of.

“What’s wrong babe, your acting weird.” He walked into the bathroom and kneeled beside the tub. All of a sudden you felt extremely exposed and wrapped your arms around your chest to cover the bit that was visible over the bubbled.

Tears started rolling down you face and you couldn’t hold it in anymore. Brock quickly stood and undressed himself moving you slightly so he could slip in behind you. He held you, trying to make you feel better, but you didn’t relax into his touch and it was very noticeable.

“D-did I do something?” He questioned. You slowly nodded, turning yourself around in the tub and sitting across from him. His face fell as you nodded and moved away from him.

“Are you breaking up with me?” He whispered clearly afraid of the answer.

“No no of course not I-I would never.” You voice was still a little shaky from the crying. His expression soften from your reassurance.

“What’s wrong baby, you have to tell me.” He grabbed one of your feet as he spoke and started to rub it. You were quick to pull it away because you wanted his full attention on you.

“Do you not want to marry me?” Now you were the one whispering, afraid of what the answer might be.

“What? Of course I want to marry you one day, what kind of question even is that?” You looked at him confused.

“When mic asked when we were gonna get engaged at Holly and Bo’s party you acted disgusted at the thought and today your mom asked you a similar question and again you responded like she was crazy for asking.” He now understood why you were so upset and he felt so guilty “I-I just... it really hurt my feelings, like is the thought of marrying me that bad? And if you don’t want to marry me are we just wasting our -“ Brock cut you off before you could even finish your sentence.

“Please don’t ever think like that, I love you more than anything, I want you to be my wife and I want to start a family with you.” You finally felt at ease with his words “I only responded like that because we are really private about our relationship, and I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable if I said yes and then everyone starts asking questions. And we really haven’t talked about it ourselves much so I didn’t want to put you on the spot. I wasn’t sure if you were on the same page as me, so I responded the way I did to get everyone off our backs.” He reached out and grabbed your hand and pulled you back between his legs with your back to his chest. “I’m sorry I hurt you and had you second guessing us.” You now understood where he was coming from and why he said the things he said

“It’s okay I understand now, I’m sorry I didn’t bring it up sooner.” He kissed your exposed shoulder and you finally relaxed into his touch.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” He spoke after a few short moments of silence.

“Hmm?” You hummed, unsure what he was alluding to.

“About us, our future?” You smiled and grabbed one of his hands from your waste, bringing it to your mouth to place a kiss on it.

“I would love nothing more.” With that, you two talked about your future and when you wanted to get engaged, how long you wanted to be engaged before you got married, how long after you got married did you want to start having kids, how many kids you guys wanted, and so on. You spent so much time talking, the water turned cold and you were forced to get out of the bath.

You both dried off and finished your nightly routines, meeting eachother in bed. Once you were both laying comfortably in bed, Brock pulled you in for a long, passionate kiss. When you both pulled away to catch your breathe he rested his forehead against yours.

“I love you and want to spend the rest off my life with you, please don’t ever doubt that.” Brock whispered.

“Good cause your stuck with me .” The rest of the night was spent kissing and exchanging I love you’s. You truly couldn’t have picked a better guy to spend the rest of your life with.

#brock boeser #brock boeser x reader #vancouver canucks imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl x reader #brock boeser fic

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nostxlgia18 · 3 years

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~ birthday proposal pt.2 ~

Part 1

Warning: A very long chapter & please imagine yourself in the place of our favorite Lizzie in the pictures, bear me plz ❣

Taglist: @beck07990 @calimoi @violacavs520 @girl-toxxic @everytimeyousaygoodbye @julialuv1d @teenagecloudflapscissors-blog @thereisa8ella @mandybug39 @justreadingthatsit @fanficworld @mrspeacem1nusone

You were supposed to get ready and leave for dinner in 30 mins yet all you have done is taken a bath

You kept checking your phone to see if Chris left a message but there was nothing, you tried calling him too but it went straight to voice-mail

'Something isn't right' you thought

"Tia get ready quick" you heard your mom yell from the hallway

"Yeah I am" you replied in a low voice

Your mother had bought you a beautiful red dress which went perfect with the necklace that Aiden gave you

You checked yourself in the mirror and you looked beautiful!

You got your belongings and decended down the the stairs to meet your family

"Ah Wow" Aiden gasped

"Oh my god honey, you look so beautiful" you mom complimented you and kissed you on the forehead

"Damn girl, you look amazing" Aiden hugged you

"Okay so let's get going otherwise we will lose our reservation" your mom said and pushed you both towards the door

"Hi, we have a reservation un - -" Before you could ask the manager about your reservations, Aiden caught your wrists and pulled you towards an empty room

"Aiden what are you doing, the tables are there" you pointed towards the opposite side of the restaurant

"Ai-"

"SURPRISE!!!!" the room lit up revealing all of your friends smiling at you

You were in a shock

"Oh my god" you exclaimed

"Happy birthday babe" Ryan and Blake came forward hugging you and giving your presents with a big hug

"Thank you so much, gosh" you teared up

You looked around to see the decor

"F.R.I.E.N.D.S, themed huh" you chuckled

"Ofcourse, we know your obsession with it. It was this party or no party at all" Aiden came hugging you from the side

"Haha thanks" you leaned your head on his shoulders

One by one all of your friends and relatives came to wish you and gave you presents but all this while your eyes were looking for those beautiful green orbs that you love the most

"Hey you okay?" Kim brought you out of your thoughts

"Uhm hey I'm good" you cleared your throat

"Are you sure?" Kim got concerned

"It's Chris" You whispered

"What are you talking about"

"He-" the waiter came with some champagne

"Thank you" you both took one glass each and thanked him

"He went to DC yesterday, um and he called me last night and was acting very weird. On top of that he has not once called or texted me today!" You said

"Oh, I think he might be busy" Kim replied

"I thought so too and I get it but atleast a text would have been good, I called him so many times but it's all going to voice-mail"

"I thin-"

"TIA!" Before Kim could reply to you, someone yelled your name and turning around you saw Lisa and Scott

"Oh my god, hi" you greeted them

"Happy birthday girl!" Scott wished you

"Thank you so much" you held their hands

"Okay everyone, let's get some music and get your asses to the dance floor" Tom announced on the microphone

"Come on let's go" Deepika forced you towards the dance floor

After 20 mins or so

Aiden came towards you and pulled you out of the dance floor and held your phone up

IT'S CHRIS, OH MY GOD

You took the phone and ran out of the room to pick it up in a quite place

You found an empty room and knocked before entering

You gasped

The whole room was lit up with candles

The vibration of your phone caught your attention that Chris is still calling

"Helloo, helloo Chris" you answered the call

"Hey Tia" Chris replied

"Where were you all day? I was so worried" you told him

"I'm sorry was caught up" he sighed

"Look um I ne- ed to t-alk to yo-u" his voice cracked

"What I can't hear you! Chris Chris" you yelled

"We ne-ed t" and the call cut off

"Damn it!" You yelled in frustration

You were about to leave the beautiful room when the closet door opened catching your attention

It's the person you were dying to see since yesterday

"Chris?" You were confused, thinking that this was a dream

"Hey birthday girl" he smiled

"What....how are you-"

"Shu shu shush" he silenced you

"Did you do all this?" You asked him pointing towards the room

He then kneeled down on one knee, making you gasp loudly

"Tia, in all my life I never thought I would be so lucky as to fall in love with you. You make me happier than I ever thought I could be and if you let me I will spend the rest of my life trying to make you feel the same way"

He then took out a beautiful ring and looked at you

You were a crying mess

"Tia Thomas, will you marry me?"

You wiped up your tears

"YES" you replied

He then placed the ring on your finger and stood up

You looked at the ring on your finger and pulled him in to a hard kiss

He had his hands on your waist securely

"I love you so much" you told him starting deep into his soul

"I love you too, soon to be Mrs Tia Thomas Evans" he replied and you chuckled

"CAN WE COME IN YET, WE'RE DYING OUT HERE!" you guys heard Tom scream from outside

"Come in, Come in" Chris yelled back

"So....." Lisa started

You pulled up your hand to show them the ring

And all of them cheered

"CONGRATULATIONS!!"

After thanking everyone

"You all knew?" You asked them

"Ahan, this all was his plan" Aiden replied pointing towards Chris

"Awwww, thank you so much" you confessed

"Come on now, we have a birthday cake to cut" Chris yelled and all of you went to the party hall

You cut the cake and then spent the whole night in the arms of your fiancé 🥰

Masterlist

Taglist

Reblogs are appreciated 😊

#fake social media #celebrities #chris evans #chris evans imagine #chris evans × fem!reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans × you #proposed #birthday party #f.r.i.e.n.d.s #ring #tiffany and co

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redgillan · 4 years

Text

Under Pastel Skies - 3

Sugar daddy!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Modern!AU Bucky doesn’t need anyone, especially not a sugar baby. He isn’t that desperate… but she smiles so sweetly and she’s endearingly awkward, and he’s so lonely. She’s an artist, a painter, the type of person who always puts others before herself. Throwing caution to the wind Bucky offers her a place to live, a place where she can finally paint whatever her heart desires. He doesn’t need much in return; a friend, a muse.

Word Count: 2,587

Warnings: none

A/N: I wanted to give Reader a family and this is the easiest way to do it. Btw Peggy’s husband isn’t Steve, I have other plans for him ;) Enjoy!

Wannabe sugar daddies don’t interact, idc if you have money, eat it and leave me be.

The rest of the week went by, and you kept hoping Bucky would come back. You hadn’t seen him since he’d left 300 dollars under his napkin after visiting you at work. You had tucked the bills into your bra, knowing they would be safe there, and walked home at the end of your shift.

Now it was Thursday afternoon and you were craving a day off.

Natasha’s apartment was spacious and the oversized glass window bathed the living room in natural sunlight. The apartment was a gift from Sam. Obviously.

You dropped your purse on the sofa –your bed- and laid out the bills on the coffee table. It was made of marble and brass, another gift from Sam.

You didn’t know what to do with the money, so you took it wherever you went, to keep it safe. You wanted to return it to Bucky. It was too much and you weren’t used to random acts of kindness.

You sunk into the cushion and blew out a sigh as you stared at the money. The persistent vibration of your phone against your thigh pulled you out of your thoughts. Half expecting it to be Natasha, you answered without looking at the caller ID.

The operator told you that Scott Lang was calling from Saint Quentin State Prison, and asked if you would accept the charges. You agreed. You always agreed.

“Splotchy, I need your help.”

Closing your eyes, you let your head fall back against the cushion. “I told you to stop calling me that, Scott.”

It was a silly nickname.

As a child, your mother dubbed you splotchy because of the colourful doodles you painted on the living room walls, and your siblings, who were roughly a few years older than you, had loved using that nickname. Especially since they knew you disliked it.

Their support and endless enthusiasm played a big part in your artistic journey, nurturing that spark into a flame. What started out as a childlike fascination with colours and shapes became your whole life. No one was surprised when you decided to pursue a degree in fine arts.

After the death of her husband, Peggy Carter adopted five children; a little boy from San Francisco, a little girl from Wakanda, twins from Sokovia and a little girl whose birth parents were still in high school. You were the last one, the only one she adopted as a baby.

“Is it offensive to call an artist splotchy?”

“It’s irrelevant. I haven’t painted in months,” you replied. “And we’re not kids anymore, you can use my name.”

“I’ve been calling you Splotchy for so long, I forgot your actual name.”

“You’re so funny,” you deadpanned. “What do you need, Scott?”

Scott’s tone changed suddenly, his voice grew agitated. “I need you to call Maggie. She isn’t picking up when I call her.”

“Scott,” you sighed.

“I haven’t talked to Cassie since her birthday,” he cut you off, pleading. “Please, I just want to talk to my little girl.”

Maggie was Scott’s ex-wife. Six months after his incarceration, she had filed for divorce. Natasha thought it was a real dick move but you didn’t blame Maggie. She was alone, her husband was in jail –for basically being a dumbass although the official charge was embezzlement and destruction of property- and she had a kid to raise.

Maggie wasn’t a saint but she was a good mother, and Cassie was a smart and healthy kid. Now you knew what to do with Bucky’s money.

“I’ll call her,” you said. “Listen, I’m going to put 50 bucks on your book. Buy yourself a bar of soap, I can smell you from here.” Scott interrupted you with a monotone ‘har har’. You chuckled. “I’ll buy Cassie a Christmas gift on your behalf, all right? I think she wanted a bike.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you,” he chanted over the phone, his voice muffled as if he was holding the receiver too close to his mouth. “Are you sure you can afford it? I know it isn’t easy for you. Between living in New York and paying for mom’s nursing home, you don’t have to-”

“It’s fine,” you said, cutting off the conversation. “I’m not alone, Okoye helps.”

“And Wanda?”

“She sends postcards from time to time.”

The line went quiet for a moment. “I want to get out of here so bad,” Scott groaned. “Everything’s gone to shit since I went to jail.”

“Everything’s gone to shit since Pietro died, Scott.” You both remained silent, remembering your late brother. Just thinking about him made your eyes start to prickle with tears, so you cleared your throat and ended the call. “I’ll talk to Maggie. You’ll be out soon, just... stay out of trouble. Love you.”

You left your phone on the table and kicked off your shoes before you lay down on the sofa for a well-deserved nap. In your dreams your brothers weren’t either dead or in prison, your mother hadn’t been diagnosed with Alzheimer, and you weren’t a burden to your friend.

If you were lucky enough, you wouldn’t even dream at all.

The next day, Bucky arrived at the hotel at six thirty and you playfully glared at him from across the lounge. He wasn’t stupid, he knew why you were glaring at him. At least he had the decency to look a little sheepish.

“Just so you know, you bought yourself about 30 breakfasts,” you told him, referring to the far-too-generous tip he had left the other day.

“A man’s gotta eat,” he replied with a boyish cockiness that made him look stupidly attractive. You were too flustered to find a good comeback.

You brought him his cup of coffee and let him enjoy his breakfast while you attended to your other clients. It was an unusually busy day, the room was packed with families who were getting ready to explore Manhattan. You didn’t have time to chat with Bucky and he didn’t stay long. You saw him flinch a couple of times; the muscles in his shoulders pulled tight and his eyes darting left and right.

He left another ridiculously generous tip, along with a handwritten note. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day x.

Bucky came back the following week, and even though it was a quiet morning, you made sure to find him a table in a secluded spot. He didn’t notice when you slipped the 300 dollars into the pocket of his coat. You could be pretty sneaky, too.

“Mmmh,” he said, wiping his mouth with a napkin, “I looked at your Instagram.”

“Oh,” you glanced at your shoes, embarrassed. “Wait, you’re on Instagram? I have a hard time imagining you scrolling through your feed.”

He laughed a little. “I’ll admit I’m not as tech savvy as you youngsters, but I’m not a fossil. I use it to look at the pictures my sister post of my niblings.”

“Cute,” you grinned.

“Anyway,” he said, pushing a hand through his hair. “I love your work. It’s very unique; a cross between Impressionism and Post-impressionism. It’s realistic, and yet there’s something different...” his face scrunched up as he tried to look for the right word. “There’s something in your paintings, something that isn’t here in real life but perhaps should be. It’s hard to explain. It’s a feeling, a color, a pattern; it’s indiscernible but it’s there.” He looked up at you, his cheeks red with embarrassment. “I’m not making much sense, am I?”

You blinked, suddenly stunned that someone had such strong opinions about your work. There was nothing but sincerity in his ocean-blue eyes, and for a moment, you were at a loss for words.

“I, um-” you cleared your throat, “Thank you, I didn’t know that. I look up to Monet, obviously. His work is phenomenal, and I also have a soft spot for Van Gogh.” You ran a hand across your face. “Sorry, I’m a little emotional. The people who compliment my art are usually my siblings, and Nat.”

“And now me,” he said with a warm smile. “And soon a lot more people.”

Flustered, you bit your bottom lip. “That would be nice.”

Bucky nodded. He gathered his silverware and set them on his plate, trying to buy time. You watched him hesitate before he turned to you. “I noticed that your last post was from almost a year ago.”

“Yeah,” you said with a casual shrug. “I don’t really paint anymore. I’m too tired when I get home and supplies are expensive.”

“Of course,” he pursed his lips in thought. “Are you free this afternoon? I was wondering if we could meet for coffee.”

You tried not to show your surprise but his words made the sleeping butterflies in your stomach crack an eye open, their interest piqued.

Was he asking you out? He’d come to your workplace every week since your brief ‘date’. He always gave you more-than-generous tips, and he listened to you with a combination of close attention and warmth that made you weak at the knees.

He’d made it clear he wasn’t looking for anyone but maybe he had changed his mind. Agh, down girl! He just wanted a friend.

You looked into his beautiful eyes, seeing a myriad of expressions cross his face before he smiled at you.

“I ain’t gonna hurt you, angel.”

It was an honest lie, just hearing him call you angel felt like a punch to the stomach. The butterflies were dancing around, reborn, and chanting the word ‘date’.

“If you don’t like coffee, we can have tea, or ice cream,” he said, “anything as long as you can sit down with me.”

You snorted. “Okay.”

“Okay,” he repeated, smiling. “This is my number. Pick a place and I’ll meet you there.”

After breakfast, you closed the restaurant and started cleaning the Lounge. You brought everything back to the kitchen, stacked the dishes in the dishwasher and turned it on. Then you put away the unopened miniature jams, butter and whatnot, and gathered the remaining patisseries and fresh fruits in a basket that you would later bring to the reception.

You worked mechanically. It wasn’t exactly the most exciting job you’d ever had.

You couldn’t stop thinking about Bucky. It was easy to let your mind wander into the cosy and dangerous territory of this being a real date.

You decided to go to the Australian coffee shop near Natasha’s apartment. It was popular but not as crowded as Starbucks, which suited you fine.

After your shift, you removed your uniform and changed into the spare set of clothes you kept in your locker for emergencies. Emergencies being an impromptu date or a night out with Nat. You dug around in your purse for your lipstick; the nice one, the Carter Red as your mother called it.

You dabbed the lipstick on your lips, staining them. You only wore it on special occasions, and you weren’t sure Bucky deserved your full red pout.

You walked to the café with a little pep in your step and a confident smile on your face. The freezing temperature didn’t matter, you were too giddy to care. It was a date, it had to be, why else would he ask you to meet for coffee?

You smiled when you saw him through the coffee shop window. He was chatting with the waiter as the latter set two mugs on the table.

“Hi again!” You shrugged out of your jacket and took a seat.

“I hope you like hot chocolate. Carl, here, says it’s their best seller,” Bucky said, smiling kindly at the waiter.

“Enjoy, and if you need anything else don’t hesitate to call me.”

You carefully wrapped your cold hands around your mug while you watched Carl walk away. A moment of silence rose between you. Bucky watched you with an unreadable expression, making you fidget in your seat.

“I’m glad you came,” he finally said.

“Me too. I’m a little surprised you asked.”

He looked down at his mug and smiled; it didn’t reach his eyes. “I have something to ask you.” He paused. “The night we met, you said you agreed to see me because being in a... financial relationship felt like the only solution to your problems.”

Your smile faltered but he didn’t seem to notice. Oh. The butterflies in your stomach fell so suddenly that it felt like carrying a ball of lead. They went back into hibernation.

“If I had been a decent person and, I don’t know, bought you a drink, talked to you,” he paused, meeting your eyes. “Would you have been interested in this type of relationship? With me, I mean.”

You swallowed hard. “You want to be my sugar daddy.”

It wasn’t a question but a statement. You were slowly realizing that you had been wrong about his intentions. This wasn’t a date, it was a business afternoon tea.

He winced. “Do we really have to call it that? I was thinking mentorship. I can provide financial help, and in exchange you could be my friend.”

“I can be your friend for free,” you said, your throat tightening.

He shrugged, a small smile on his lips. “This way we’ll both get something out of it.”

You looked down at your hands, still wrapped around the mug, and pursed your lips in thought. You felt a sharp tingling sensation in your nose, a sign that you were about to cry. You closed your eyes and clenched your jaw, fighting against the flood that was coming.

You pushed all the emotion down and forced a smile to your face. “Do you mind if I use the restroom? I just took the subway, I’d like to wash my hands.”

Bucky watched you, momentarily stunned by your request. “Of course, take your time,” he quickly recovered.

“Thanks,” you croaked, pushing your chair back.

You picked up your bag and walked to the restroom, your legs feeling like cotton wool. You didn’t need to use the restroom, you had walked to the café, but you needed a moment alone to collect yourself.

A woman came out of the restroom, holding the door open for you. You picked up the pace and thanked her before closing the door behind you. You looked pretty sickly under the artificial light of the restroom. Your eyes were glassy with tears and your red lips were taunting you.

“Got your hopes up, uh?” You watched your lips move. A little humourless chuckle escaped you and you shook your head at your own idiocy.

You aggressively wiped the lipstick off your mouth with the back of your hand and sighed deeply as you looked at your reflection in the mirror. Now you felt like an idiot.

It wasn’t Bucky’s fault. He had been nothing but nice and kind, and perhaps you had mistaken his kindness for flirting. A naïve mistake. You had always been a little clueless when it came to men.

You ran your index fingers under your eyes to get rid of the makeup that had gathered there. It wasn’t the end of the world, you barely knew him anyway. It didn’t hurt any less, though.

Maybe it was time for you to do something out of character, to experience life no matter how crazy it seemed. You were dreading this conversation with Bucky, but you couldn’t hide in the restroom forever. With another sigh, you pushed yourself away from the sink and walked out of the restroom.

Part 4

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagines #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel imagine #bucky barns imagine #redgillan #redgillanwrites

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namjoonchronicles · 3 years

Text

tumble | yg

↳ genre fluff, established relationship, slight smut at the end

↳ words 5k ↳ summary preparing for close friend’s wedding gifts is a given for young married couple. an unexpected encounter with an old flame led to an unwanted rekindled feelings but karma reminds you who your heart truly belongs to, because it’s all about the actions, not words. ↳ notes this i wrote during first week of university of my final year, trying to run away from responsibility. midway, my friend @hellotherehoneybee was having a difficult week at hers too, so i wrote this extra fluff for her, i hope she noticed. thank you for working so hard! (i wish someone would comment on the work i put on the banners of each of my stories, but nevermind) ↳ warning attempts of infidelity (not by you) ↳ song ‘happiness is a butterfly’ lana del rey

Nimble fingers punched the numbers on the passcode pad, just outside the door. Crumpled papers on the floor. Supreme skateboards stacked on the wall. Yoongi walked in, greeted by a line of guitars at the corner of his studio. His attention was on the phone, preferring to text over calling. His face was shone by the light from it. His feet kicked away the crumpled papers on the floor to get to his computer. There’s a frame of baby breath on his table next to his stationery. A picture of you next to his desktop. Bothered by the melody he endlessly replayed in his head, he plans to record the notes in digital form. He hasn’t decided which work of his he wanted them in, but any of it would be just fine. Today, he is expecting a guest that will contribute to the guide. Jimin springs in first, as usual.

“Why do you lock the door knowing that I’m coming?!” Jimin groaned outside the door. He is leaning against the frames, knocking repeatedly.

This is exactly why he had those locks put up. Several young producers lined up. Yoongi is teaching them how to make music. With a wry look and dry greetings, Yoongi invited them in and started the meeting. The project is rather simple. Yoongi has provided a raw sample to the aspiring producers who will try to make lyrics. These melodies are then sung by Jimin. Yoongi whipped out his sample from his computer and he will give exactly 30 minute for the producers to think of ways to make the music a song. The young producers wrote down notes given by Yoongi. They write and they erase. They wrote and erased. Write. Scratch. Write. Scratch.

Noticing this, Yoongi gave a soft smile. It reminded him of himself when he was just starting. The uncertainty, the overwhelming feeling of not knowing if the lyrics are good enough, or just plain dumb. As an underground rapper with social anxiety, he was afraid to be ridiculed the most, and he is pretty sure that these producers have the same fear. What he is about to say is nothing new. In fact, he advises it frequently in his lectures. Clearing his throat and with the aura of a seasoned lyricist, he said,

“Go with your gut feelings. Understand the feel of the sample and what you could derive from it. Let your mind run wild. First rule of writing music is that there are no rules.”

He emphasizes on creativity. Jimin was trying to write the lyrics too. He wanted to learn to write faster. “Jimin, your problem is that you’re a perfectionist…” Yoongi spat, “Your mind goes haywire at the possibility of writing everything, you have no clear direction. That’s why it’s so hard. You select a theme, and you stay on it…”

“But Namjoon…” Jimin began.

“Namjoon is a genius. His diction is out of this world, and he has been writing lyrics for years. Don’t compare yourself to him or rather, learn with him rather than coming to me, uninvited,” Yoongi swivels in his chair as the three other producers hang their head low.

Jimin puckered his lips and muttered curses under his breath.

Yoongi reaches for the journal he kept by the book rack. When he opened them, a warranty card fell out. He crouches down to get them. It was from the phone you bought. He caught you buying a phone on an online store when he returns to the studio, earnestly picking a good one. You even asked him about these specs and technology terms you don’t know about. Some of it was written down as notes in this journal along with his own scribbles of song lyrics. You wanted to buy a phone for your mom and pretend that it was from your dad. Your mom always complains that your dad never gave her gifts and is reluctant to spend money on her. Yoongi didn’t need the extra information but you gave it to him anyway. Yoongi learnt from you that your mother had been using the same phone for a decade, and nothing can be updated anymore. And because your father isn’t doing anything about it but think about himself, you decide to buy your mom a good new phone. Saving your father’s face by pretending it was him who bought it.

You didn’t know this but, Yoongi fell in love with you once more.

That phone comes with a warranty card that is now made its home in his old journal. You know he wouldn’t throw any of his journals away.

Glancing at the digital clock on his shelf, he wondered, just how his favorite person in the world is doing…

Yoongi entertained questions from his students. Explaining the build up, the body, climax and ending. Sharing what is fun and what is not, in writing music. What’s cliché and what’s attention grabbing. But his explanation was cut halfway when his phone vibrated, and swiped his thumb over the caller ID and answered with a small, “Hello?”

Jimin and the students studied his face. At first, Yoongi seemed pretty laxed, and then he stood up, abruptly. Instantly and visibly tensed.

“Where are you?” Pause, “Okay, stay right there, I’ll be right over…” He grabs his coat from the hanger and his tongue glides along his drying lips upon ending the seemingly urgent call. He appears distressed but it is masked by his calm exterior.

“Is something the matter, hyung?” Jimin asked. “I have to leave, I am sorry because I have to cut the classes short. Make sure you email me the verses by noon tomorrow. I will deduct marks for late submissions…” Yoongi said in one breath and yanked the door open, had them leave the studio at once and locked them.

Namjoon was standing outside the hall, watching Yoongi as he trudges through. The older one was putting on his jacket albeit roughly and as quickly as he could. Namjoon couldn’t even get a proper greeting in return. It seems Yoongi is troubled by something.

Troubled by something is indeed accurate.

A few hours ago.

You thought you made a great choice. It’s what you wanted when it was your wedding, and you’re sure that Jungkook would like it too. Knowing just how obsessed he is with having everything the same color code, the sapphire blue kohiki plates would have fit in right into his kitchen like it’s one of the built-in. Yoongi always thought that Jungkook’s gifts are the hardest to choose because he is picky, but also not very picky. He has specified interest but also not very specified. You know more than anything that Jungkook is neither of those things. Ever since you knew the boy, he had always been grateful for any gifts he was given. It didn’t matter how expensive or how rare, it’s the thought that counts. Many years ago, Jungkook came to your house, when you and Yoongi were still dating, and he frequently used the kohiki bowls you have. He said he liked it. That's how you came to decide that his wedding gift would be just that. For his wife, you don’t really know her well, but you had Yoongi book a Swarovski perfume after recognizing that she frequently carries the fun sized bottle around when she’s out.

“Would you like to also see the latest collection of our Kohiki plates, Mdm. Min?” the salesperson politely addresses you and you thought that simply looking wouldn’t hurt. You after all had time to kill today.

Your hands glide over the impressive finishing of the white kohiki plates, truly in awe of the time and the craftsmanship involved in making this. They came in many sizes and as you narrowed down to the end of the gallery, you recognized a collection so similar with the one at home. You turned to the salesperson with a beaming smile, almost child-like. The man bowed at you and explained to you how this particular collection was especially sought after and high in demand, they decided to keep it in collection. Yoongi’s personal family collection had been imitated countless times in the past centuries, they eventually trademarked the design to be named, Empire Min’s timeless collection. It had served countless royalties in the whole world and the tableware was of grand prestige. Sometimes, it dawns over you that you married quite an incredible man with a lineage of such esteem, comparable to those of aristocracy.

Min Yoongi’s family may have stranded far from the royals now, but the traces are there. His delectable face, porcelain skin and honey-succulent voice, are as good as a blue bloods’. His family registrar was kept in the national museum and you had a glimpse of it during Chuseok every year, where they pay homage to his ancestors and it’s quite unbelievable that something from centuries ago was still available today. You didn’t ask a lot about how his family branched off the King, but you do know that the surname Min belonged to four most important Queens in the Joseon dynasty. Is that where his beauty originates from?

You smiled to yourself as you saw his signature underneath the gallery as the last few descendants of the Queen.

“The gifts are wrapped up, we will have it shipped personally to Mr. Jeon Jungkook as per addressed…” the salesman ensured you with an assuring voice.

Kohiki plates aren’t cheap to say the least. But Min Yoongi doesn’t like you worrying about it. Much less, he’d rather have you spend his hard-earned money because he doesn’t always know what you like. One last thing, a visit to the gallery with your trustee art enthusiast, Kim Namjoon.

He stride over as he ended the call. He looks everly dashing in those turtlenecks and grey blazer. His pectorals and buff body looks great in it. He wore those glasses that made him look like he was a postdoctoral student. Only he isn’t. He shoves his phone into his breast-pocket and his face shifted from a serious one to a cheeky expression. He presented his arm for you to take and embraced in a small talk with you.

“You just ended your lecture?” you asked him. “It took a little longer than planned, sorry about that…” he chuckles, handsomely.

“This gallery better be lit…” “You won’t be sorry. I promise.”

Namjoon guides you into an exhibition, guarded by several men in black suits and ear-pieces. The whole way there, you realized that there was no one around. It is only given, because Namjoon owns it. It seems he had it shut down for the day, because the most important painting is arriving from Versailles, and he wants nobody to have a look on it. Except you, of course. And it’s easier to do painting shopping without people hustling in and out trying to catch a glimpse of the ‘Kim Namjoon’. Namjoon talked to you about the randomness of things as he introduces to you his favorite works. He was talking about his sudden trip to Paris and how he regrets it, then talking about a wrong purchase and the books he is currently reading. All in a quiet voice, the kind you give to your lovers.

But you know that’s just Namjoon being flirtatious like it’s his second name.

Suddenly, you stopped in your tracks. This section of the gallery feels like it’s cut off from the rest. It has been endless modern art since the entrance until a few paintings back. This one felt like it was Rome or the Renaissance. The sculptures and dramatic scenes, the skin tones and flesh, it was a whole other world. You turned to Namjoon, questioning him with your eyes. You know him well enough to know that he doesn’t like this type of art.

“I had a change of heart… while trying to understand yours,” he confessed. And it sounded strange because he let those words glide out as if he had no control over it. He stepped back, pressed his lips together for saying more than he thought necessary, dropped his shoulder and turned to the art he loved.

“I understand it now,” he added, speaking to the frames, “Why do you like them so much… There’s so many stories to tell from each of these characters…”

You remember explaining to him about eyes in realistic paintings. How you wonder what they’ve seen, and what they have experienced. These endless thoughts usually trouble Namjoon, up to when he was about to sleep. You look beyond the surface of this painting and put feelings in them. That’s when he realized that emotions can be painted. Namjoon owed it to you, to having understood himself. And as he explained just how your art classes changed his perspective in life, he introduced to you the painting he thinks fit Jungkook the most. When you saw this painting unveiled before your eyes, you couldn’t agree more. It would look best in his spacious living room. Namjoon watched you as you signed the insurance paper to deliver the artwork. Watching you from afar like this felt foreign. With the history you both had, who would have thought that he would spend his life dreading the future he could have had with you.

It is all too late now.

The ring around your finger isn’t his. Maybe it’s for the better. He couldn’t have cared for you better than Yoongi does.

The most difficult thing about this relationship is, getting stuck between caring too much, and not caring at all.

“So you’ll deliver them to Jungkook’s house soon?” your eyes darted up at him as he approached the table.

“Leave it to me…” he said with a broad smile and dire confidence from a seasoned seller. A billion dollar man like him, could get away with anything with that smile.

Namjoon hooks his finger around the flaps of the door handle of your car and watches you climb in. Winding the window down, he rests his elbows and fixes his eyes on you, a coy smile on his pretty lips. You darted at him a look. A look you’d give to your malice doing little brother to warn him.

“Go on dates, go meet people, Namjoon… How long will you live this way?” “How would you know I’m not meeting people?” “You stacked books in my online bookstore, and still use my Netflix account to watch movies…” “Books and movies are better companions.”

You looked at him through your lashes and in those particular moments of silence, glances were exchanged and feeling somehow attempted to rekindle, however, before it could, you looked away.

“I’m going to Yoongi’s office, I’ll tell him you said hi…” “But I didn’t…” “Goodbye, Namjoon.”

The white Mazda CX-3 glides away, seamlessly. Stopped at the junction, and entered the main road. All these while, Namjoon kept watching. And it seems like, all his life, he had been watching. Because that was all what he was courageous enough to do.

“‘She loved him too early, and he loved her too late…” Namjoon muttered to himself.

At the junctions, your car pulls to a stop as the traffic light turns red. The building you were in were kilometers away but the scent of Namjoon’s body lotion hasn’t left. You always refrain from reading too much anything Namjoon does because you’re not who you were anymore. Your loyalty is with Min Yoongi now and it should be. Rather than feeling like you used to feel for Namjoon, it actually narrows more to pity. Namjoon had it all. He had your endless support, you had been his emotional anchor, and he had taken you for granted for many years. Eventually, you pick up your worth and search within yourself what you’ve given him. What you found out when you peel yourself away from everything that is Namjoon, is the fact that he had given you nothing but his concerns. There was no give and take. All he does is take.

Finding yourself, led you to finding Yoongi.

Yoongi was nothing easy to have. So it daunts you that difficult men might have been your type. Yoongi is rash and dry on his best day and even more harsh and unapologetic than anyone you have ever met. It came to a point where you exploded, thinking that even as life swallowed you whole and his arms was the only thing that could save you, you’d rather be swallowed whole. When Yoongi heard such a damning insult to his being, he got even. As harsh as Yoongi appears to be, he was a softie right under the flesh. Under his blank expression and inattentive eyes, he is all soul and bones. The more you know him, the more you realize that you both are strikingly alike. From the way you solve problems to the way he speaks, you both are a lot more common than you are different.

He is so intelligent and witty and blunt. You can ask him about literally anything and he always has an opinion about it. Because of his wide arrays of interest, you can never run out of topics to talk about. He is a great fun, and always adventurous although he prefers to whine about it at first. He said he hates camping but when you forced him to come with you, he looked like he has been camping his whole life. Lit the bonfire within seconds, adapted the forest life and just casually calm. The kind of calmness you hadn’t felt in awhile, you felt in Yoongi’s presence. Camping nights are always so romantic with him playing the guitars and you requesting songs you know he doesn’t know. There will be crinkles around his eyes before he looks down, embarrassed for not knowing that song. Once you give him a listen, he could play by ear.

He is adorable when he is confused or terribly tired. One night, he asked if you would come over his studio’s rooftop to spend time together. He spoke two sentences and fell asleep while you were talking. He unknowingly leaned his head on your shoulder as he dozes off. You brushed his hair away and thumbed his cheeks. His lips pouting cutely as he slept. You sat awfully still for hours, hours that he is still paying off with himself. To this day. It is astonishing how he could look like the cutest little kitty and also looked like he could swallow you whole.

His dangly multi earrings, gorgeous eyes and veiny arms, his multifaceted talents are as endless as his sweet words. Yoongi could make you feel heard without you saying a word.

The pedal planted to the ground, screeching tires and loud crashes. The windows on the driver side shattered and the airbag deployed. Loud ringing in your head as you try to gather your thoughts. What’s happened? You drove ahead a little more, because if you didn’t the road would have been congested. You pressed the hazard light on and parked on the side of the road to avoid other cars.

Hooking your fingers around the car handle, the door was pushed open. The car that collided with you stopped behind you. Your Mazda could continue driving but you don’t want to risk it because the shell of the tire was a little dented. The sharp ends were grazing your tire if you continued. The driver whose car you collided with was eerily quiet but he kept staring at an interval. You gathered your purse and fished for your phone.

“Please don’t get mad…” you huffed, “I got into an accident…” The back of your wrist on your forehead as you looked around in worry.

“I am at a round-a-about pass on Samsung Building 77 street… I’ll send the location,” you breathed, oddly a little calmer than he expected you to be. It all happens too quickly. You weren’t sure who was in the wrong. The last thing you remember was using the signal stick to turn to the right and the car on the right wanted to head to the left, surreptitiously ignoring the signal you gave. It seemed ages for Yoongi to get there, but when he did, he parked a little further and got off the car, jogging to where you are. Your eyes stung and got watery as he came to get you. You were so grateful that he wasn’t angry and in fact, just wanted to know where you were so he could be where you are. He held onto your hand as he went to inspect the car and its damages.

“What are you going to do with my headlight?” the owner of the other car came over, uninvited. Yoongi instinctively pulls you behind him at the forwardness of this man.

“Take it easy, let’s check the dashcam to see who was actually in the wrong, let’s take this to the police station…”

“What police station, it is more than obvious that she was driving recklessly and not paying attention!” The man tried to go over Yoongi to get to you but Yoongi held his palm outward at this rude man.

“Like I said, we will take this to the police station and they’ll decide who is in the wrong and needs to pay for the damages…” Yoongi once again marched against this man and stared dead into his eyes while dialing on his phone. He placed his phone on his ear and continued to warn the man with his body language.

“The insurance company? Yes, I have a car you need to tow. We’re along Samsung 77th Street by the roundabout, how long will you take to get here? 10 minutes, okay…” Yoongi spoke on the phone. You held onto Yoongi’s arm tighter. One hand in his tight grip, the other clawing on his sleeves, slightly below his elbow. Your eyes unfocused. You were biting your lips. Chewing on them.

Yoongi climbed into his car after you. Pressed the car engine on and thumbed your knee. You weren’t as calm now.

“What if it is actually my fault? What if I was the one driving foolishly…?” You stuttered.

“We will let the police decide okay? We hadn’t even seen the footage from the dash cam yet, he could just be manipulating you to think that you were in the wrong, just by the look on his face I know he’s the type to drive like a drunkard and blame people for his mistakes…” Yoongi’s large palm covered your entire knee.

“You want jellies?” he tries to console you. “What about the car?” you looked over the car seat to the view of your stranded Mazda.

“The insurance company will have it towed, don’t worry… It’ll be okay,” he smiles and chuckles lightly, “This isn’t a big deal, accidents happen all the time, honey.”

The car pulled to a stop at the red traffic light, and he extended his arm to gather your hand to kiss your knuckles. You looked at him with watery eyes, full of guilt and despair and you said to him in broken voice,

“I’m so s-sorry… I’ve troubled you,” you bursted into tears, “I just went out to get gifts for Jungkook’s wedding and it all happened so fast…” Yoongi gathered your head in one hand, pulling your face into his nape. He plants kisses on your head and fondly smiles against your hair. . . . .

The police decided to hold the man accountable. He was clearly changing lanes without signals, and he was also ignoring your obvious signals. Not only was he driving past the speed limit at a roundabout in broad daylight, he had the audacity to shift the blames towards you. The dash cam was proof that he was a reckless driver so he had his driving license suspended and he had to pay for damages you faced. Yoongi laced his fingers into the gaps of yours as he turned around from the man. Yoongi smiled smugly and took you out of the police station. With the reports done and you were acquitted from any traffic misconduct, the car insurance company will cater to all the repairing. Yoongi will have to drive you everywhere for now but it wasn’t something he minds doing.

You let go of his hand and proceed to walk to the car, hugging yourself while he watches you from behind. Your steps weren’t hurried, rather they were a bit slow but for some reason you thought it was far better to not hold him. In your head, you are still scolding yourself and knowing you as far as he did, he understood it. He climbs into the car, avoiding eye contact as his index finger sunk into the engine button. You were dazed, looking out the window at everything on the outside. Noticing this, Yoongi stops by your favorite mall. He said he wanted to get some tools and appliances for the sink at home. Every three months, Yoongi would have the sink maintained by pouring cleaning liquid and have it stay there overnight so it won’t clog anytime soon. Usually, when this happens, he would buy dinners outside and take you out for breakfast the next morning.

Both of you once experienced the sink clogging before, and the whole kitchen was flooded with foul-smelling liquid. To make matters worse, Yoongi was away for business in Tokyo, and you had to handle them alone. Some plumbers walked in to help, and even if Yoongi was grateful for their help, he would rather his house be under his maintenance. That's why he keeps a schedule for every heavy duty appliance in the house. This is to avoid unnecessary over spending and inviting unnecessary people inside the house. He has a yearly check for the washing machine, the refrigerator, the electric stove, the air-conditioners and the oven. He is always making sure that everything is safe for you to use.

With the car parked so swiftly, Yoongi joins you in the mall's lobby. There aren’t many people around since it’s weekdays. And as if you remembered that you needed a conversation, you jerked your head up and to the side, at your husband.

“Oh right! You have a class today?” “Sent them home early with an assignment to mark later…”

He pauses, momentarily. Lifting his left wrist for the time, he yanked his sleeve up. He then, out of a sudden let out a sigh,

“Should we have dinner here or…” his voice drawls, “I plan to start on the sink right away when we get home…” “That sounds great, I don’t feel like cooking…”

You lifted your eyes at the elevator door opening before you. Yoongi lets you step in first. You move to the back of the elevator at the corner, by habit and Yoongi joins you. He could see from your face that the accident hadn’t left your mind. So when the elevator arrived at the second floor, instead of the fourth where the hardware stores were, he took your hand and walked out. You didn’t question him right away but you thought it was odd.

“Ice-cream…” he beamed at you.

He ordered your favorite. Waffles, drizzled with chocolate syrup and some fruits. Then you talked about Jungkook’s wedding gifts and plans on that day. He asked you about the venues since you were the one that booked them. You excitedly say that it was in great shape. The venue was a garden, it has this magnificent backdrop of a man-made lake and Jungkook’s fiancé loved the idea of exchanging vows at the view. However, your smile swept away when you spoke about the wedding dress.

“Why?” Yoongi spoke softly. “Because she seemed conflicted to follow what her friends’ recommended instead of what she truly wanted. She texted me yesterday, saying that she hated her wedding dress,” your shoulders dropped. “Why did she hate them?” “Her friends basically forced her to get this dress from a designer they know. From what I heard he was pretty famous, but she originally wanted her old classmate to make one for her. So now she regrets it, because the dress was not her style,” you sighed yet again.

Yoongi looked at you through his bangs and a small smile formed in the corner of his lips. Always taking in other peoples’ problems as your own, always thinking of others and always solving other people’s problems like your own. Yoongi could feel how devastated you were to hear that story first hand, and he is certain, as you were scooping those waffles into your mouth, you are thinking of ways to fix it. Typical. When you make a folded taco, you would take the ugliest one so he could have the prettier sets. When you buy medical supplies, you always make two purchases, one for him. The bigger portion of cake is for him, the larger piece, the better half. Even when you ate something you think is tasty, you would buy one for him at home.

In one ways or another, you are constantly thinking of him. It gives him butterflies. How lucky was he to be able to find you. How can someone look past such a genuinely beautiful person. Inside and out. Whose love is this true and this devoted. Only a dire fool, that is.

From the ways you love him, he is most certain that you haven't changed any part of you.

“Oh!” you exclaimed, “I bought you something… I saw this at the bookstore, it's a moon and star water globe and I thought it would look good on your studio desk…” You rummaged your bag for the item while your husband sat there, staring at you with a fond smile. Literally, a woman’s bag is a wonder. There’s all kinds of things in there. Receipts from 5 years ago, set of cutleries for travelling, hand sanitizer, tissues, a notepad, a glue gun and candies. Coins.

He picks the old receipts up between his index finger and middle finger.

“Why do you keep these things?” he chuckles. You looked over at him and snatched them.

“Are you worried that a cop may come and ask you, where were you, four years ago at 2:53 pm so you can whip out that receipt from your back and be like, ‘I was at the Hunts Restaurant sir, I had a bento and tea. I have receipts to prove it?’ For your alibi?”

“I might…” you dashed. Half of your head disappeared into the bag, still looking for the globe.

Yoongi picks up Band-Aids, some unopened menstrual pads and coupons from your favorite pizza place that expired four months ago.

“Honestly…” he comments.

“Aha!” You exclaimed, “The globe…”

The globe, like its name, has moon and stars on it. His nimble fingers examined it, closely. You were so expectant of what he’ll say.

“It’s pretty…” he said. “Isn’t it…” you gushed.

You return them into your bag because Yoongi don’t have one. Once again, you reminded him to put them on his table later on. He assures you he will, he even kept it in the car’s dashboard, so that when he returns to the office, he’ll make sure to take it with him. On the ride back home, you fell asleep. He made sure that he went over the bumps on the road gently, making his turns like a grandma on the wheel. He parked the car and waited. Fishing out his phone and he took pictures of you sleeping. He scrolls down messages from work, check on items he bought online, read a few emails...

Then you inhaled sharply, awake. Stretching your fingers.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” you mewled sleepily. “Based on experience, you take 10-15 minutes to wake up when the car stops... “ he nonchalantly passed. You smiled at his bluntness. He endured 10-15 minutes of silence with his sleeping wife despite the turmoil he went through today. You couldn’t have married a better man. Even if there was a better man out there, if it isn’t Yoongi, you don’t want him.

Yoongi wasn’t lying when he said he wants to work on the sink immediately. You held the torch while he examined the sink. He wants to change the tap and clean the drainage hole. While he was struggling under the counter, you can’t help thinking that you were so fortunate. From how he handles things, to how he comforted you in times of need, to how he is made of husband material, you are certain, that God made this one, especially for you.

When he rolled out from underneath the sink, he caught you daydreaming. And he threw a sheepish smile at you. His thin white shirt is now drenched with spots of sweats on his chest and along his back. And he snarkily say,

“Wanna shower?”

You bit your lips at his remarks, playing coy at his forwardness. When in all honesty, you were down for it. And all the showers you will have in the future. . . .

Deep in you, knees dug into the mattress, between your thighs. His veiny arms gripping hard on the bed sheet. The sounds of heavy paintings, squelching cascaded in the room. He hovers sloppy kisses along your jaws like he was possessed and he said in his husky voice,

“That guy Namjoon… don’t feel right…” “I’ve been meaning to…” hisses in the delectable pain, “Talk about him…”

You propped your elbows up, leaning against it, brushing sweaty skin with Yoongi, you spoke is rasps,

“He said some strange things, so I am going to… delete him.”

Yoongi bit his smile, his porcelain skin glistening with the sweat that drenched him. His hand glides down your torso, with touches so hungry and starved kisses. He drew out a long deep moan, dove his face into your neck, chanted your name like a mantra--like a man standing on the verge of sanity, licking on the taste of infinity. .

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keytomythoughts · 3 years

Text

Perfection Imperfections | Chapter 1

Chapter Index

»»—————————————-　

Finally, summer break. It’s been a while since I was able to go home. Having to attend high school rather far from my home in Seoul, I never thought that I’d adjust to the new environment. Fortunately, I wasn’t entirely alone, since I stayed with my aunt for the four years of my high school life. School wasn’t so bad, but the homesickness is what killed it for me. Even though it was my parents' idea to send me a rather vast distance—me not being too excited about it, but I knew I wouldn’t get my way in the end—there was some good that came from it. The two only good things, actually.

I glance outside the train window, the buildings of Busan zooming past me. Sure, it may not be my home, but I won’t lie. I’m really going to miss this place. My phone suddenly vibrates in my lap, glancing down to see a text from my group chat, smiling as I respond.

(Binnie)

R u still on the train?

Yeah have been for the past like 30 mins

(Eunuwu)

Going back to ur parents? Or r u moving out?

Funny

Yk I can’t move out, at least not on my own. My parents won’t allow it

(Binnie)

What about Jaehyun?

Idk, they rlly dc what he does tbh

They’re just hell-bent on me getting into the top schools and shit

(Eunuwu)

Damn, rough

Mhm

(Binnie)

Try talking to them, u never know

They might change their minds?

Nah, I already know how it’s gonna end

Me crying and stuffing myself with pints of ice cream

(Eunuwu)

Doesn't sound so bad

(Binnie)

¬_¬

(Eunuwu)

Except for the crying part ofc

But c’mon it cant really be THAT bad

I’ve been over plenty of times, they seem nice

(Binnie)

U’ve been to her house??

Yeah him and oppa are friends too

(Binnie)

Righttt forgot lol

And that’s bc you were there dumbass and half of the time ur either in oppa’s room or out somewhere

Interaction with my parents = minimal

(Binnie)

That sounds awful ngl :( sorry Hyuna

But hey we should all hang soon!

(Eunuwu)

I’ll be in Seoul for the summer too so y not?

I miss y’all :’(

Ok I should be there around like 5 ish so I’ll text then

(Binnie)

Aww I miss u toooo

(Eunuwu)

*puke*

Shut up, ur just jealous

(Eunuwu)

Me? Jealous?? Of what, ur face?

Yea no thx, Ive got a great face already

And personality 0:)

Gr8, explains why ur still single

(Binnie)

LOLL

She got u there bro

(Eunuwu)

Shut up

Ur talking as if u’ve got a gf

Idiot

(Binnie)

At least I didnt reject them as coldly as u did lol

See? My point exactly

Your fAcE scared off every girl in sight bc of tht pErSoNaLiTy

I almost feel bad for them, u little heart breaker

(Binnie)

He made a couple of em cry I heard

Rlly?!?

YAH

U MORON

(Eunuwu)

Bin wtf

(Binnie)

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

U JERK HOW COULD U??

Those poor girls omg

Im so kicking ur ass when I c u

(Binnie)

Me 2

(Eunuwu)

Wtf?? Y???

(Binnie)

No reason lol, just feel like it

And this is why ily Binnie

(Binnie)

:D <3

(Eunuwu)

GROSS

Can it u demon

Read 4:02 PM

I snort, turning off my phone and placing it back down on my lap as I go back to staring outside my left-hand window again. Meet Cha Eunwoo and Moon Bin, my two best friends. The only reason I got through high school how I did without major setbacks. Sure, there was the occasional homesickness and all, but had I not met these two, I probably wouldn’t have even attended and graduated.

Being so far away from the place I grew up never really suited me, and they saw it right away from day one how lonely and upset I looked. I didn't seem to fit in, especially since I skipped a grade and was placed in classes that were very advanced for me. Not that I minded the vigor, but it was hard for me to socialize, let alone make friends.

That’s when I met them. Freshman year in homeroom before my first literature class. Moon Bin, a boy with parted, coppery-golden hair accompanied by his shy, puppy-eye smile and sweet nature, offered me an empty seat next to him in class, even going as far as to share his textbook and asking how I found the school. No doubt, I was embarrassed and immensely shy, stuttering over my words and failing to meet his soft gaze. However, he didn’t make fun of me nor find me odd. All he did was smile, laughing lightly at my slightly flustered state. He stuck his hand out, introducing himself (most people just call him Moonbin or Bin) with that smile of his, thus the start of our new friendship. Since then, he became someone who always knew how to cheer me up when I was feeling down. No moment was ever dull with him by my side.

Eunwoo, the tall, brooding black-haired and charismatic student almost everyone knew (and crushed on) of, was usually with Moonbin when we hung out together, but he normally kept to himself. Though quiet and sometimes reserved with his intimidating looks, it didn’t take long for him to break the ice with us, the three of us becoming close friends. Promising to stay like this until we went to college and beyond. Regardless if we all diverge and tread different paths, we would always converge and come back to one another.

Four years flew by and graduation was upon us. Just like that, the two became like family to me, my ride-or-die duo. The two who were able to turn my world upside down, finding solace in a time where I thought it was nearly impossible for me to.

My thoughts are interrupted by my “Move” ringtone—yes, I’m a huge Lee Taemin fan—looking down at my phone again to see it’s my brother calling. I sigh, picking up the call.

“What?”

He gasps dramatically. “Is that any way to address your loving older brother after being away for so long?”

I snort, shaking my head. “Loving my ass, oppa. How are mom and dad?”

“They’re fine, living. Didn’t you tell them you’re coming home?”

“Nope, I don’t even text them that often. You already know this..”

He sighs. “Yeah, I figured.”

There’s a slight pause on his end, but he continues. “You took the three-thirty train, right? So you’ll be here around five or so?”

“Yeah, give or take.”

I look out the window again to see the endless stretch of greenery and flowing springs, sometimes even children playing in the fields. I grin mischievously, deciding to poke fun at my brother when he doesn’t respond right away.

“What, you miss me?”

He makes a sound similar to throwing up. “As if. I got so used to the peace and quiet. I’m not ready for it to go away.”

“Yah!” I realize that I had yelled a bit too loudly and eyes were now trained on me, and I bow my head in apology. I lower my voice, “You’re such an asshole.”

“Oh, I know, but you still love me anyway.”

“Shut up.”

I can hear his laugh resonate through the phone and a smile unknowingly tugs at my lips. I wouldn’t say it out loud, but it’s true. When I lived with my aunt in Busan for the duration of high school, I missed Jaehyun a lot. Though two years older than me, he didn’t seem to alienate me the way my parents do. While I hate the notion that they spoil Jaehyun endlessly and let him do as he wishes, I won’t lie and say that he was a prick about it. He could’ve been, but he never came off as selfish. I’m really close with my brother, shocking as it may be. Sibling relationships are like that—one minute you want to strangle them with their intestines and the next you’re singing duets together. Crazy, but that’s how it is for us. My parents don’t really pay me any attention, so Jaehyun decides to do that instead. Not complaining though. I’d rather take his pranking and teasing over my parents’ demands and reprimands any day.

“Aight, I’m heading out for a bit. Text me when you arrive.”

I smile again. “Will do, but make sure to get me food!”

“Let me think…” He hums, and I can practically sense the smirk on his end. “Nope. Get your own.”

“Oppa!”

Jaehyun laughs. “See you in a bit, Hyuna. Get here safely. Bye!”

He hangs up the call before I get a chance to retort, and I scoff. Typical of my brother. He knows how much I enjoy street food, and every time he goes out, it’s almost certain that most of the time he stops somewhere to eat. Did he ever bring food back? Sure, but by the time I’d get to it, most of it was gone anyways. That only lasted a little while before I had gone upstate anyways, so he had more food for himself, I guess.

As the train barrels down the tracks, I feel my heart racing in excitement, but there’s also a slight ounce of dread. I really don’t know why. I want to believe it’s because I’ve been away for too long, but part of me knows it’s the fact that I’ll have to face my parents again. Knowing that I only have two months to decide where I wanted to go and what I wanted to do, I know the bitter truth is that those decisions won’t be left up to me. Last time, I was sent to Busan.

God knows where I’d be sent to now.

***

“Final destination of the KTX Busan-Seoul train at Seoul Station is approaching and will arrive at 05:30 PM. The doors to alight are on the right hand side. All passengers are requested to dismount the train upon arrival. Thank you.”

That’s my stop.

Gathering my bag and hand luggage, I patiently wait for the train to pull up at the station. Seeing the familiar shops and buildings around me makes my legs bounce up and down in both excitement and anticipation.

Four long years away from Seoul...

Before getting off, I quickly text the group chat and then my brother, letting them all know that I’ve reached safely. Side-stepping the other passengers exiting the subway doors, I carefully land onto the platform with my luggage in tow. I breathe in the air around as I stretch my arms up into the sky, the grin widening on my face.

It sure as hell feels good to be back home.

I try my best to maneuver through the crowds, but it doesn’t stop the rush of people knocking into me. At times like these, I curse my genetics for favoring my older brother instead of me in terms of height. Eventually, I come to a clearing and when my eyes glance upwards, I spot a rather familiar dark brown-haired six-foot-tall male amongst the small crowd waving me over.

“Hyuna, over here!”

I gasp, my eyes widening. “Oppa!”

He smiles as I begin walking towards him, my feet hurriedly moving across the concrete. The distance between us shortens and I abandon my luggage as he opens his arms wide.

Only for me to sucker punch him in the stomach.

He yelps in pain, grimacing as he holds his abdomen. “Shit, that hurt. What has Aunt Sua been feeding you up there? Rocks?”

I smack his shoulder, my blood slightly boiling in anger. “Yah, why didn’t you tell me you were coming?! Do you know how much money I blew off for the bus fare?”

He straightens his back before going to rub his shoulder, then behind his neck.

“Fine, fine. My bad. I wanted to surprise you, but I guess that didn’t work, did it?”

I cross my arms over my chest, huffing in annoyance. He sighs, nodding.

“Okay, okay, I’ll compensate you. Dinner’s on me.”

At this I grin, blinking excitedly. I grab onto his arm and shake it vigorously. “Really? You mean it? You’re the best, oppa!”

“Look at this brat..” he taunts, shaking his head. In a flash, he headlocks me and rubs the top of my head harshly with his knuckles, upsetting the neatly-tied auburn ponytail.

“Yah! Quit it!” I smack his arms and flail in protest, but he chuckles, saying this is what I get for cunningly finding a way to exploit him the minute I stepped back into Seoul.

What can I say? It’s a talent.

He lets go eventually, and I try to smooth down my already-tangled hair. I grumble incoherently but Jaehyun pulls me into his embrace, wrapping his arms around me. His free hand gently pats the side of my head in comfort.

“Welcome home, sis.”

I stand there stiff for a second before hugging back. He squeezes me tighter and I find myself smiling into his shoulder.

“Good to be back,” I whisper.

We stand like that for a moment before he pats my back a couple of times, us pulling away from each other soon after. He reaches behind me to grab my hand luggage as he shoulders my bag. I tell him that I can carry them just fine, but he starts walking away from the platform to the parking lot. I call out after him as I run to catch up, and I can see the corners of his mouth twitch. Jaehyun leads me to his car, a sleek matte-silver convertible Mustang. My mouth drops open in shock at its stunning beauty, my body forcing itself to remain composed for the sake of avoiding public self-embarrassment.

He throws my luggage in the back seat before he turns to me, smirking at my expression. “You like it?”

“Shit, do I like it? I love it!” I run my fingers over its metallic surface, the silver exterior gleaming in the evening glow. Grinning, I stare up at my brother who catches my gaze as I stand next to the driver’s seat, my fingers already curled on the handle.

“Can I—”

“No.”

“Please—”

“Nope.”

I pout as I pull my hand away and step to the side. Jaehyun chuckles, rubbing my head playfully before getting into the driver’s seat and starting the car. The engine purrs to life as my brother pulls out his shades and wears them. He looks at me and cocks his head to the passenger seat.

“Don’t just stand there. Get in.”

Smiling, I quickly make my way over to the other side and slip into the passenger seat. I barely have time to buckle in before Jaehyun speeds off. I scream in fright, but he laughs heartily, telling me to let loose.

With the wind harshly whipping around us, I close my eyes and tilt my head upwards, absorbing the remnants of my childhood in a place I’ll always call home. A place where my heart always feels at ease.

My name is Jung Hyuna. I’m eighteen years old, and this is my story.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 |

#moonbin x oc #moonbin ff #moonbin fic #moon bin #cha eunwoo #jung jaehyun #astro #nct #fanfiction #my writings #mine

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