#and then its like ‘i love u for ur warmth... u make me feel alive... of every body around me its u i feel closest to... like the sun’ | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

christopherisfoive · 3 months ago

Note

could u maybe do a seungmin or minho with prompt(s) 10,14,15? thank u i love ur work <3

☕ Order’s up, angel! Your Seungmin enemies-to-lovers tension just got topped with a dash of soft candlelight and a near-kiss that almost changes everything. Hope it hits just right. ₊˚ෆ

Snow Lines

Pairing: Kim Seungmin × Reader Setting: College Friends • Spring‑Break Cabin l Prompts: 10 “Were you just about to kiss me?” • 14 Enemies‑to‑Lovers tension • 15 Sharing a bed for the first time

The old van sputtered and rattled its way up the narrow mountain road, each bump jolting you awake from your half-sleep. Through the fogged windows, the surrounding pines stood like silent sentries under the weight of fresh snow. The distant lights of the cabin gradually appeared, blinking softly between branches.

"Almost there," Chan announced from the driver's seat, his voice laced with exhaustion but still warm enough to feel comforting. Behind you, Felix mumbled something incoherent in his sleep, head lolling against Hyunjin's shoulder, while Jisung recorded the moment, whispering dramatically into his phone camera.

Nine friends crammed into one cabin for spring break—what could possibly go wrong?

The van finally came to a halt with a final exhausted wheeze. Doors swung open, unleashing a flurry of boots hitting gravel and laughter mingling with the sharp mountain air. Felix's camera swiveled around, capturing everything from Changbin’s exaggerated stretch to Jeongin slipping on the icy patch, his startled laugh echoing into the night.

“Careful, I.N!” Chan called, chuckling as he pulled bags from the trunk. “We’d like to keep everyone alive this week.”

Inside, the cabin air was tinged with the scent of pine, dust, and years of vacationers before you. It felt cozy in a worn-in sort of way, wooden walls adorned with outdated ski lodge posters, rugs faded by footsteps. Hyunjin, already comfortable in his role as unofficial trip leader, waved a laminated floor plan triumphantly over his head.

“Gather round, peasants,” he announced dramatically, spreading the map across the battered coffee table. “Bunks go to pairs. And the lucky winners get the queen bed in the loft.” He reached into his beanie, revealing folded slips of paper. “Fate decides tonight.”

You watched the draw unfold with mild amusement, too tired from the trip to mind much either way. Felix cheered when paired with Jisung; Hyunjin high-fived Changbin as if they'd won a grand prize. Jeongin, Minho, and Chan took the triple bunk room in resigned acceptance.

Only two slips remained. Hyunjin grinned as he pulled them free, eyes sparkling with mischief. “And for the queen suite—Y/N and… Kim Seungmin.”

A collective "oooh" filled the room, Jisung’s camera swiveling rapidly between you and Seungmin as if hoping to catch a dramatic reaction.

You glanced at Seungmin, who stood with an unreadable expression, eyebrows raised just slightly in quiet resignation.

“Try not to kill each other,” Chan said with a tired smile, earning scattered laughter.

Seungmin only sighed lightly, picking up his neatly packed suitcase and heading for the stairs without another word. You grabbed your duffel and followed slowly, already mentally preparing yourself for the days ahead.

Upstairs, the loft held a simple warmth, slanted ceiling lined with exposed beams, the bed large enough to dominate the small space. Seungmin placed his suitcase precisely at the foot of the mattress, claiming territory without hesitation.

You dropped your bag next to the window, making sure to stake your own claim. Silence lingered, awkward enough to make the space feel smaller.

“You don't snore, right?” Seungmin broke the quiet, voice dry yet edged with just enough sarcasm to remind you of your usual dynamic.

“You don't alphabetize your dreams, right?” you shot back lightly.

His lips twitched slightly, neither fully a smile nor a frown, but it eased the tension slightly. Outside, snowflakes began tapping softly against the window, creating a gentle rhythm.

"Come on," he finally said, tilting his head toward the stairs. "If we don’t hurry, Felix will eat all the good snacks."

You hid your surprise at his easy peace offering, simply nodding as you both headed back downstairs—uncertain allies, at least for now.

By the time you and Seungmin stepped outside, the bonfire was crackling to life. The firepit, ringed by snow-dusted logs, bathed your friends’ faces in flickering amber. Sparks spiraled gently into the velvet darkness above, vanishing into the cold night air.

"About time," Changbin called out, eyes playful as he threw another log onto the fire. "We thought you'd already started arguing about room decor."

"Don’t worry," Seungmin answered smoothly, tugging his beanie lower over his ears. "We've saved plenty of arguments for your entertainment."

You rolled your eyes, though your lips curved upward slightly. Seungmin caught your expression, the corners of his mouth lifting briefly before he turned away, adjusting the cuff of his jacket.

Felix, ever the unofficial videographer, waved his camera excitedly, catching the moment. "Did you two just smile at each other?" he asked, pretending disbelief. "The plot thickens."

"You’re hallucinating, Lix," you called back, voice dry as you took a seat on a log opposite Seungmin, the fire between you feeling both literal and symbolic.

Chan distributed steaming mugs of hot cocoa, the warmth radiating comfortingly through your gloves. You wrapped your hands around the cup gratefully, inhaling the rich scent. Across from you, Seungmin carefully stirred his cocoa, movements precise even in casual comfort.

"Alright, gather round," Changbin announced dramatically, leaning forward with a mischievous grin, flames casting dancing shadows across his face. "Who’s ready for ghost stories?"

Jisung raised his phone instantly, eyes sparkling in anticipation. "Wait, wait, wait—let me get the right angle."

"Are we sure that’s wise?" Jeongin asked, eyes wide and playful. "Last time Bin told ghost stories, Felix didn't sleep for three nights."

Felix looked affronted but nodded in solemn agreement. "It’s true. My sleep schedule has never recovered."

Hyunjin tossed a marshmallow toward Changbin, narrowly missing the firepit. "I’ll risk Felix’s sleep for the sake of tradition."

As Changbin launched into a tale, voice theatrically deepened, your gaze drifted across the fire, landing on Seungmin. He sat quietly, half-listening, half-watching the flames. Shadows danced across his face, highlighting his cheekbones, the gentle sweep of his eyelashes. When his eyes flickered up, meeting yours unexpectedly, your stomach tightened in surprise.

Caught off guard, you quickly looked away, heat rising in your cheeks that had nothing to do with the fire.

Hyunjin interrupted the ghost story abruptly with an exaggerated scream, sending Felix into startled laughter and Jisung toppling backward off his log. "That’s it, no more stories for Hyunjin," Chan declared firmly, though his voice was warm with amusement.

"You’re banned," Jeongin agreed, mock-serious as he helped Jisung up from the snow.

Seungmin's low chuckle drifted across the fire, quietly amused. The sound was unexpectedly gentle, a stark contrast to his usual dry remarks. You glanced at him again, curiosity piqued.

"You didn’t find that scary?" you asked, hoping your voice sounded teasing rather than genuinely curious.

His eyes flicked to you, a small, knowing smile appearing. "Ghost stories? Not really. Hyunjin’s scream? Terrifying."

You laughed softly, the moment of unexpected camaraderie surprising you both. "Agreed. Gonna have nightmares tonight."

"Good luck with that," he replied lightly, stirring the cocoa again, gaze dropping to the swirling liquid. "I’m not rescuing you from nightmares."

You raised an eyebrow playfully. "Who said I'd need rescuing?"

He glanced up again, eyes glinting softly in the firelight. "Just a guess."

Changbin interrupted, waving his hands dramatically. "If you're done whispering sweet threats at each other, maybe you'd like to join our marshmallow roast?"

Embarrassment flooded your cheeks as your friends laughed good-naturedly. Seungmin, for once, looked equally caught off guard, hiding his face partially behind his mug.

"You heard him," you said, forcing casualness into your voice and standing quickly. "Time to burn marshmallows."

You grabbed a marshmallow from the bag Felix offered and poked it onto a stick with determination, refusing to glance back at Seungmin, though you felt the warmth of his gaze lingering on you longer than necessary.

As the snowflakes thickened, floating gently through the firelit air, Chan finally stood, rubbing his gloved hands together. "Alright, team, time to head in before we freeze."

A chorus of playful complaints rose immediately, but Chan, ever practical, simply shook his head with a smile. "Tomorrow’s snow-day chaos will be more fun if we actually survive the night."

Slowly, everyone rose, stamping cold feet and dusting snow off jackets. Seungmin stood across from you, eyes briefly meeting yours again over the dying embers. He hesitated a moment, as if considering something, then gave you the slightest nod, quiet acknowledgment passing silently between you.

You nodded back subtly, not fully sure what had changed, only knowing that it had—just a little, just enough.

Together, the group trudged toward the warm glow of the cabin windows, laughter and teasing trailing behind you like footprints in the fresh snow.

By the time you climbed the stairs to the loft, the cozy warmth from downstairs had already faded, leaving behind only the chill of the mountain night. Through the thin walls, you could still hear the faint sounds of laughter as the others settled into their rooms, a comforting murmur that only underscored the awkward quiet now stretching between you and Seungmin.

He moved around the room methodically, setting his phone carefully on the bedside table, stacking books with precise corners aligned, pulling a charger from his bag with practiced efficiency. His calm organization seemed almost exaggerated in contrast to your own quiet hesitation, and you found yourself watching him, half-irritated, half-curious.

“Are you always this meticulous?” you asked finally, breaking the silence as you unpacked your pajamas, trying to keep your voice casual.

He glanced up, eyebrows raised slightly. “Does it bother you?”

You paused, considering his question for a beat longer than you intended. “It’s…intense.”

He smiled faintly, clearly amused. “I prefer ‘efficient.’”

“Of course you do.” Your reply slipped out dry and automatic, prompting another quick twitch of his lips.

Turning your back, you changed quickly, trying to ignore the prickling awareness of Seungmin moving quietly behind you, the rustle of fabric as he slipped into sweats and a faded university hoodie. When you turned around again, he was already climbing under the quilt, sitting up against the headboard with a book in hand. The image felt strangely intimate, far more so than you’d prepared yourself for.

Swallowing awkwardness, you slid into your own side of the bed, carefully pulling the blankets around you, leaving a deliberate space in the center as if to mark an invisible boundary. Seungmin noticed but said nothing, simply flipping a page, seemingly absorbed in whatever he was reading.

Silence stretched again, softened only by the gentle sound of snowflakes tapping rhythmically on the skylight above your heads. You found yourself hyper-aware of every sound—his slow breathing, the faint rustling of pages, your own pulse thudding in your ears. It felt oddly tense and yet strangely peaceful at the same time.

Finally, he placed his book on the nightstand, clicking off the small lamp and plunging the room into quiet darkness. You lay still, staring upward into shadow, your thoughts spinning quietly. Sleep felt miles away, your mind refusing to settle, body stubbornly shivering despite the layers of blankets.

Several minutes passed—maybe more—when you heard Seungmin exhale softly, clearly not asleep either. His voice drifted quietly from the darkness, low and tinged with reluctant amusement.

“You realize you’re shaking the whole bed, right?”

“Sorry,” you mumbled, embarrassment heating your cheeks even in the dark. “It’s colder than I thought.”

A moment passed, then you felt the blankets shift as he moved beside you. Before you could ask, the gentle weight of another layer settled over your shoulders—his fleece blanket, still warm from his side of the bed. You froze for a moment, surprised at the small act of kindness.

“Don’t overthink it,” he said quietly, as if reading your hesitation. “If you freeze to death, I'll have to explain it to everyone.”

You relaxed slightly, grateful for the way humor eased some of the awkwardness. “How thoughtful.”

He hummed softly in reply—a gentle, amused sound that vibrated through the silence, relaxing your tense shoulders a little further.

Quiet settled back around you again, this time softer, easier. Your shivering slowly eased, replaced by the comforting warmth of shared blankets and quiet breaths syncing unconsciously in the dark.

Just before sleep began pulling at your consciousness, his voice came again, barely above a whisper. “Better?”

“Much,” you murmured quietly. “Thank you.”

There was a pause, and you felt him shift slightly closer, not enough to bridge the gap between you, just enough that you felt his presence more clearly beside you.

“Sleep well,” he finally whispered, voice softer than you'd ever heard it.

You smiled slightly in the dark, letting yourself relax fully for the first time all evening. “You too, Seungmin.”

As you drifted off, warmth cocooning you comfortably now, you wondered briefly at how something as simple as a borrowed blanket had shifted the boundaries you thought you'd clearly drawn—softening a rivalry into something much harder to define.

The cabin woke late the next morning, lulled by thick snowfall and the promise of no real schedule. Sunlight filtered through the frost-glazed windows, bouncing off snowbanks stacked like walls around the house.

You lingered in the loft a little longer than usual, reluctant to leave the cocoon of warmth and blankets. Seungmin had already slipped out, quiet as always, and by the time you joined the others in the kitchen, Felix was declaring war.

“I’m serious,” he said, tossing a pair of gloves at Jisung. “Full-blown snowball fight. Team rules, field boundaries, the works.”

“Didn’t you almost cry last year when Hyunjin hit you in the face?” Jeongin teased, dodging a sock Felix hurled in retaliation.

“I’ll wear goggles,” Felix declared.

“It’s happening,” Chan said around a mouthful of toast, barely hiding his grin. “No backing out.”

The teams formed quickly, almost instinctively—Chan, Jisung, and you on one side; Seungmin, Hyunjin, and Changbin on the other. Felix declared himself the ‘official cameraman,’ strapping on his GoPro like a war correspondent and giving a serious nod.

Outside, the snow was soft but deep, perfect for ammo. The teams split to opposite sides of the yard, forming makeshift forts behind sleds, overturned bins, and chunks of fallen branches. Breath fogged in the air. The only rule: no mercy.

You launched the first snowball—direct hit to Changbin’s back.

He yelped. “Oh it’s on!”

Chaos erupted.

Seungmin was strategic—calculating angles, leading attacks, covering Hyunjin’s blind side with frustrating precision. He dodged with ease, barely mussing his hair, which irritated you far more than it should have.

“Can you at least pretend you’re having fun?” you yelled, packing another snowball as fast as you could.

“I am having fun,” he replied calmly. “Watching you miss.”

Your next throw veered wide, and you hissed under your breath.

“Rough morning?” he teased.

You gave him a look that promised revenge.

Jisung was hit mid-dash and collapsed in the snow for dramatic effect, yelling, “Tell my story!” as Chan pulled him to safety. Hyunjin slipped, face-planted, and popped up with a snow-beard that sent everyone into laughter. Somewhere in the chaos, Jeongin switched teams, claiming it was for “balance” but mostly for fun.

You spotted Seungmin crouched near the porch and sprinted for cover—only to misjudge your step on a slick patch of ice. Your foot flew out from under you, and you landed hard on one knee. Pain spiked immediately, sharp and burning.

“Shit—”

The laughter stopped.

Seungmin was at your side before you could even brush the snow off. He didn’t say anything at first, just crouched, eyes scanning your face and the awkward angle of your knee.

“Stop moving,” he said, voice clipped but low.

“I’m fine,” you muttered, even as your hands trembled slightly in the cold.

“You’re not,” he said, slipping a gloved hand beneath your arm to steady you. “Can you stand?”

You nodded, but the second you shifted weight onto your leg, pain shot up your thigh. You hissed, and without another word, Seungmin pulled your arm over his shoulders and lifted you partially off the ground, supporting your weight as if you didn’t weigh a thing.

Felix abandoned his post to open the cabin door while the rest trailed in behind you. Inside, warmth hit you like a wave, along with the low murmur of concern.

Chan brought ice. Felix fetched painkillers. Hyunjin patted your head like a scolded puppy.

“Nothing’s broken,” Chan said after checking you over. “Just a nasty bruise.”

You offered a stiff nod, pulling the blanket Felix draped around your shoulders tighter.

Everyone laughed when Hyunjin replayed the GoPro footage of your fall in slow motion—except Seungmin, who leaned against the far wall, arms crossed.

“She’d have dodged if she trained more than her sarcasm,” he muttered when Changbin jokingly called him a hero for rushing in.

The room laughed. You didn’t.

Your throat tightened. You didn’t meet Seungmin’s eyes. Instead, you offered Felix a strained smile as he handed you a hot drink, grateful for the excuse to look anywhere else.

He hadn’t meant it cruelly—not exactly. But it hit in a way nothing he’d said before had. Maybe because he was supposed to be the one who noticed when he went too far.

You sipped the cocoa, staring at the steam curling above it. The laughter around you resumed, but it no longer felt as warm.

Dinner prep fell to you and Seungmin. Of course it did.

Chan claimed he was on firewood duty. Jisung and Felix volunteered for playlist curation, which somehow turned into a hallway dance-off. The rest conveniently vanished to “tidy up” or “take inventory,” which you knew just meant avoiding the awkward silence brewing between you and the guy currently chopping garlic like it had personally offended him.

You stood at the stove, wooden spoon stirring pasta that had long since finished cooking. The steam fogged the tiny kitchen window, leaving only your reflection staring back—tight mouth, unreadable eyes.

“You’re still mad,” Seungmin said without looking up.

“I'm not mad,” you replied too quickly, too sharp. “I’m fine.”

He glanced at you then, long enough to see through it. “Right.”

You tightened your grip on the spoon. “Why would I be mad? You just embarrassed me in front of everyone and made a cheap jab while I was literally in pain. That’s nothing, right?”

The air shifted.

He set the knife down slowly, wiping his hands on a towel as he turned toward you. “It was a joke.”

You scoffed. “No, it wasn’t. You meant it. You always mean it. The sarcasm, the digs—they’re not always harmless, Seungmin.”

His jaw tensed. “I thought that’s how we worked.”

“Yeah, well,” you said, blinking quickly. “Maybe I’m tired of being the joke.”

That landed. You saw it in the way his mouth parted slightly, like he wanted to say something but didn’t know how.

The pot bubbled over. You moved to shut off the heat, wiping at the mess with shaky hands.

He stepped forward, voice lower now. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“But you did.” You didn’t raise your voice. You didn’t need to. The disappointment clung heavier than anger.

“I don’t know how to…” he trailed off, fingers tightening around the edge of the counter. “Sometimes I say things because I don’t know what to say when it actually matters.”

You exhaled slowly, finally turning to face him fully.

“I’m not asking you to say the right thing. Just don’t say the thing that makes it worse.”

He nodded, quiet, gaze falling to the floor.

The door creaked open behind you.

“Dinner smelling good in here?” Felix called out cheerfully, poking his head in.

You stepped aside, gesturing toward the food. “Yeah. It’s done.”

The others filed in, laughter and music quickly filling the kitchen again. You and Seungmin didn’t speak for the rest of the meal. Not out of spite, but something quieter. Something still mending.

He passed you the salt once. You said thanks. He didn’t correct your pasta portion like he normally would. You didn’t tease him about his precision chopping.

Small things. But different.

After the dishes were cleared, you slipped back upstairs early, your bruised knee aching and your mind heavier than you cared to admit.

You expected the cold. The silence. The usual friction.

What you didn’t expect was a soft knock at the door an hour later.

The knock was gentle—barely there. But the cabin was quiet now, most of the others tucked away in their rooms, laughter from earlier faded into sleepy murmurs behind closed doors. You were sitting cross-legged on the bed, hoodie wrapped tight around you, your knee propped up on a pillow, phone screen dimmed to black long ago.

The door creaked open just enough for Seungmin to peek in, candle in hand, his hoodie sleeves pulled down past his palms.

“The power’s out,” he said quietly. “Storm took it.”

You nodded once, voice caught somewhere in your chest.

He hesitated—then stepped inside.

“I brought this,” he added, holding the candle forward. The warm glow cast soft shadows across his face, making his usual sharp features look a little gentler. “Couldn’t find the lanterns.”

You reached out, fingers brushing his as you took it. He didn’t let go right away.

“You okay?” he asked finally, gaze dropping briefly to your knee.

“I’ll live,” you muttered, setting the candle down on the nightstand. “Not sure about the ego though.”

He gave a soft laugh, just enough to break the quiet tension.

“I was out of line,” he said, voice low. “I know I was.”

You didn’t say anything, just watched him as he stood awkwardly near the end of the bed, like he wasn’t sure if he should sit or leave.

“I didn’t mean to say something that would stick like that,” he continued, rubbing the back of his neck. “But the truth is… I don’t always know how to talk to you.”

That surprised you.

“You always seem so sure,” you said slowly.

“I fake it,” he replied, smiling ruefully. “I thought poking at you was the only way I could… get to you.”

You blinked. “Get to me?”

He finally sat down on the edge of the bed, facing away slightly, hands braced on his knees. “Yeah. Like maybe if I kept pushing, you’d push back. You always do. And I’d know where I stood.”

You looked at him carefully. “And where do you want to stand?”

He turned to meet your gaze then, expression open for once—not defensive, not sarcastic. Just honest.

“Closer,” he said. “If you’ll let me.”

Your heart thudded unevenly in your chest.

“You don’t make this easy,” you whispered.

“I never said I was easy,” he murmured, voice low. “But I meant what I said earlier—I didn’t want to hurt you. I just… I don’t always know how to show when I care.”

The candle flickered beside you, painting golden light across the quilt. The air between you shifted again, quieter now—like the moments that come after storms, when the world feels new and tentative.

You reached for the blanket between you, tugging it slightly so he’d get the hint. He blinked once—surprised—but didn’t hesitate to shift under it with you.

You lay side by side in silence, the closeness unfamiliar but not unwelcome. His knee brushed yours, and this time, you didn’t move away.

“You’re warm,” you muttered sleepily, voice softer now.

He chuckled under his breath. “You sound surprised.”

“I am,” you replied honestly. “You give off strong cold-shoulder energy.”

Seungmin smiled. “Maybe just for everyone else.”

The silence returned—not heavy, not awkward. Just quiet, and kind. And slowly, as the candle burned lower, your eyes began to fall closed.

Just as sleep tugged at you, you felt his fingers brush lightly against yours beneath the blanket. Barely touching. But there.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he whispered, voice a warm hush against the cold night.

You didn’t answer. But your fingers curled softly against his. That was enough.

It was hard to say how long the two of you had been lying there, but the storm outside had calmed. Only a few stray gusts still rattled the windowpane, and the candle had burned itself down to a waxy stub on the nightstand.

You thought Seungmin had fallen asleep. His breathing had gone quiet, even. But then—

“You’re still awake,” he said, voice low, barely above the hush of the wind.

You turned your head slightly, your cheek grazing the pillow. “So are you.”

“Yeah.” A pause. “Been thinking.”

You shifted slightly to face him, just enough to see his profile in the pale blue-gray light leaking in through the curtain. His brow was relaxed, but his lips were drawn tight—like he was holding something in.

“About what?”

A long pause.

“…That maybe I don’t want to go back to the way things were,” he said.

Your breath caught a little. You weren’t sure what you expected him to say, but it wasn’t that.

Seungmin kept his eyes on the ceiling, but his voice was steady now. “All we ever did was get on each other’s nerves. But the last couple days… I don’t know. You don’t feel that shift?”

You did. You had.

And it scared you a little.

“Maybe,” you said, your voice quieter now.

He finally turned to look at you fully. The space between you had narrowed over the past hour without you realizing. Now, your faces were inches apart, pillows cradling your heads at the same level, the blankets pulled up to your shoulders like a shared secret.

Your gaze flicked to his mouth for just a second—just a second—and you could feel the tension rise instantly.

Not uncomfortable. Just heavy with something new.

Seungmin’s voice dropped even lower. “You keep looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you want me to do something about it.”

You felt your chest tighten. “Do you?”

His lips quirked—not in his usual sarcastic way. Just the faintest smile, touched with nervousness. “I might.”

His hand moved beneath the blanket, fingers brushing yours, pinkies hooking without full contact. You could feel your heart hammering, your skin humming.

And then he shifted forward, barely closing the distance. His forehead nearly touched yours, breath ghosting across your lips. You could feel everything—the pause, the hesitation, the hope. Your eyes fluttered shut for a moment.

And that’s when you asked, barely above a whisper—

“Were you just about to kiss me?”

Seungmin’s voice came just as soft, just as close. “…Was kind of hoping you’d beat me to it.”

You opened your eyes, and for a heartbeat, neither of you moved.

Then there were footsteps in the hallway. A floorboard creaked, someone’s voice muttering half-asleep.

Seungmin pulled back just enough to breathe. Not retreating, not hiding—just waiting. Respectful. Intent.

You smiled faintly, heart still pounding. “Maybe tomorrow.”

He nodded, voice warm and low. “Yeah. Tomorrow.”

You didn’t fall asleep right away—but you didn’t feel the cold anymore either.

#stray kids #author jules ღ #skz imagines #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids enemies to lovers #seungmin #jules skz requests 𝄢#seungmin stray kids #seungmin scenarios #seungmin x you #seungmin x reader #seungmin x y/n #seungmin oneshot #seungmin skz

97 notes · View notes

urautismdiagnosis-wistie · 3 months ago

Note

Hello!! I absolutely love your barnacles/kwazii qpr propaganda, you are 10000000% right!! They make me so happy and you draw them so cutely! If you have any more doodles or headcanons for them I would be so happy! I am making meals out of the crumbs in canon lol An offering for you:

surrounded by the ocean yet still warm <3

Barnacles needs the feeling of kwazii breathing and alive at night and kwazii needs the warmth and slower heartbeat to feel safe

ANYWAYS ENJOY SOME CUTE LIL RAMBLES ABOUT THEM BEING SOFT AND PRECIOUSSS

kwazii really sucks at waking up in the morning, the captain totally picked him up into air jail only to be met with a very sleepy and tiny and pouty kwazii in his hands 😭😭😭

I just know barnacles boops his nose at like EVERY opportunity. Goshhh they nose boop. They could rub heads n stuff its in both their body languages. Purring and chuffing <3

3. Yk how giant dogs will get right into peoples space and not realize how HUGE they are and just snuggle into someoen???

Barnacles

4. Old kwazii and barnacles would slowdance and u couldn't pry that out of my cold dead hands

5. Pov ur like 45 year old kwazii not getting chosen for a really strenuous mission

hes so scraggly and wet anyways-

6. COULD U IMAGINE BARNACLES JUST LAYING ON T O P OF KWAZII AND KWAZII IS JUST TINY AND TRAPPED UNDER LIKE YEOW LET ME OUT and then caps like noooo u do this to me all the time its fine and he's like NO BUT YER HUGE IT BE DIFFERENT and the capns like ok fine u caught me im actually imprisoning u <3 and kwaziis like WHAT PIRATE CRIME DID I COMMIT and the caps like 🥰the treasonous act of not giving me enough cuddles🥰 and kwazii just has to accept that 😭

7. Also the capn is like high on pain killers or somwthing and he's SO SAD and then hes so happy cuz he can HOLD KITTI and push kwaziis lil paw beans in and out while crying about how smol he is (peso endured similar treatment 💀🙏) and kwazii just gets trapped for some hours, this grown *ss man is just getting his kitty face squished over and over 😭😭😭

8. idk if I ever mentioned this but kwazii genuinely does find the capn very beautiful <3 like he really does think the caps got such pretty eyes and a charming face and really lovely hair and do u see how large the capns paws are???? And how pretty his black claws are???? He's so cool and amazing and pretty and also pretty and- and how could u blame him????its not even a physical attraction thing he just did the thing where u love a person so much u see their entire existance in a new way

9. They take turns sleeping in eachothers rooms

Kwazii having a preparation montage where he's putting on layers of thermals and big fuzzy socks to go sleep in his joyfriends frozen *ss room 😭😭😭

Meanwhile barnacles has got to deal with kwaziis tiny ahh bed and the fact kwazii literally LAYS ON TOP OF HIM and moves and everything in his sleep 😭😭😭😭 but he also purrs soo….

10. One of the deepest kinds of loved a person can ever experience is safety during vulnerability and change.

I JUST KNOW they'd cry a few tears a few tears just from the softness. Something so fcking small that breaks every fcking battered defense they have relied on for years down. And then the other is there to wipe the tear away with their thumb.

And then they cry harder.

Bonus: kwazii calls the capn the "Lord and Savior of thr Manatees" whenever he's being a hypocrite about kwazii being reckless 😭. And barnacles has INTENSE cuteness aggression feelings to kwazii and he MUST squish him :> thats all for now

I totally don't have even more thoughts i cant share rn because it'd spoil my comic whaaatttt thats so crazy im such a normal person about them they don't consume my very soul idk what ur TALKING about

BARNZII QPR PROPOGANDA BARNZII QPR PROPOGANDA YYEYAYAYYAYAAHHHHH

my MOON AND LITTLR STAR

MY BIG AND SMOL

MY CAPN AND FIRST MATE

Auuauahagahhrjrrkkrkr thank u for the ask it means the world to me 🥺👍 my (qpr)partner irl is very happy the qpr propaganda is spreading >:3

#octonauts #my art #octonauts art #octonauts kwazii #octonauts captain barnacles #captain barnacles #kwazii cat #Barnzii qpr propaganda #Misty memories au #Octo headcanons #Yap post

41 notes · View notes

widefuturesss · 5 months ago

Note

how did y’all develop ur sense of art / creativity? i feel i’ve always had an urge to make art especially as a way 2 express myself in ways that words usually betray…i’ve been into collaging lately and i really like it but i’ve been consistently told that i have no talent in art so i shouldn’t bother and yeah that has definitely dampened my creative spirit.

all that 2 ask, how does one break free from both the internal and external pressures when it comes 2 art / world making? how does one create in service of themselves, ancestors and communities they r trying 2 cultivate?

i hope this makes sense! hope u have a blessed day filled with warmth and love ^_^ 🌞

Damn, that's so horrible to hear because truly what defines 'talent' these days? success via consumability? - surely not my love!!!

Creation is blessed and sacred especially when in offering to our many selves and our collective consciousness.

I've been making since I could use my hands. It was definitely way more carefree and explorative as a child... But we've definitely been through a hell of a journey full of seasons and phases. Especially as we really got into the industry of art, it was hard not being burnt out and un-inspired, over the last 2/3 years we've been trying to get into a flow that doesn't feel caged by expectations of productivity and consumerism...

In this season of world building, I set my intentions for this year as a year of creation. Especially after a bit of a hiatus from visual art, I had to reconfigure the logic of my labor to one that centered my rest (link to a lecture I gave on art as a freedom dream practice). I realise I create most freely and fulfillingly in what I like to call my shrine; which is usually my bedroom/living space that I love to adorn with images, objects, candles, incense and beautiful fabrics. All the colors, textures and scents that make me feel happy to be alive!!

This past winter I was in a deep hibernation, waking up in the morning (i'm a morning person lol), taking my hot showers, smelling sweet and nice, wearing colors that made my spirits smile, eating a healthy and fulfilling breakfast, lighting incense and candles, playing my music, then diving into the materials infront of me. My hands were moving intuitively and I felt really good to be creating from a place of self care... It has its seasons for sure. I've been thinking of my creations as literal pregnancies, some ideas fr needs it '9 months' lol! there's still sooo many ideas I am yet to fully birth, but I trust it is inside me.

Baby steps fr. Divine clarity as supposed to Digital urgency - Give yourself space and much much grace.

I encourage you to center your self and the space you choose to create from. Find your routine and make it sacred. Set up the little things that will comfort your senses. World building starts in you and for you. I feel most fulfilled surrounded by my art. I hate the idea of any blank space on my walls. Everything is a reflection. Every color, shape, form and texture is inspiring. Everything sings to each othaaaa, this is the portal making <3 Little rituals of self luvvv.

20 notes · View notes

rollercoasterwords · 1 year ago

Note

genuinely thank you so much for writing thtf. it's my favourite thing to read in the whole world for so many reasons. like other than where it's obviously devastating (in SUCH a good way), idk it just makes me so happy

I think it's the first wip i followed from start to finish and I have to say that part of 2022 was not the greatest but yk, every few days there'd be a new chapter. and it was great.

I fucking love Dorcas talking about "a butterfly in the palm of your hand" it's changed the way I think so much. like you would not expect this from a fanfic lmao but it's pretty much exactly what I needed to hear at the time. living just to live, even if it's complete shit, not caring about what they're leaving behind. ch 42 (i think) where all they're doing is just washing the dishes but it's so special and they're listening to dawn storm is so important to me I love it SO much. fucking amazing.

ngl I don't really think there's anything I don't like. every character feels so right - regulus in particular sticks out to me, like there's such a good balance between him doing pretty bad things because he's not a particularly "good person" but also not being a complete dick. also I would die for marlene mckinnon and the way you write her is just so fucking good. the way she is just so alive to make up for her shorter life is so beautiful to me. I could ramble on for a very long time about everything in this fic but I dont want this to get too long lol

the music you put on the chapters is also really good like I'm pretty sure the first time I read it I didn't listen the music and then I reread it with the music and it was like a whole different experience

yeah i would've sent this earlier (like maybe a year ago) but looks like I put it off for a really long time lol

also - really love where atwmd is going rn I'm so excited for more chapters, i love Sirius Black etc etc

ahh thank u this is so sweet! i love hearing that thtf resonated w people it definitely feels like the fic kinda took on its own life & became a little philosophical journey that i was not entirely expecting lol. i think writing a story where i knew my main characters were going 2 die the whole time really made me contemplate like. ok what do i actually want 2 say abt death, and by way of that what do i wanna say abt life? bc like. as someone who doesn't believe in an afterlife i didn't wanna write a story that says "well it's ok bc they can be happy in the afterlife" <3 bc like. that does not comfort me lol. & i also didn't wanna write a story that was like "it's ok bc there's gonna be a good future 4 others after them," bc i think life means something and matters even outside of futurity. i didn't wanna play into this narrative that u have 2 Do Something 2 make ur life meaningful by making sure u have an impact on the future, etc; i wanted 2 write abt life as meaningful outside of that. & i also specifically wanted 2 write abt life as something beautiful & meaningful even with the bad stuff mixed in, and even if death is abrupt and scary and painful and unwanted. like i purposely made both their deaths pretty brutal bc i personally find the idea of a "bad death" really scary! the idea of dying before ur ready, dying scared or alone or in pain or all three, etc...and i think part of why that's so scary is bc we place this big emphasis, again, on a linear timeline of life, where death is The End, and if The End is bad, then the story's a sad one. but death is just one moment in the sum total of billions of moments throughout your life; why should that bad cancel out all the good? why should a story be sad, just because the last page of it is sad? you can open the book to any page and find happiness, and love, and warmth, etc. & that's what i'm trying 2 say w "a story is not its end."

anyway. this got much longer than expected lol i love 2 ramble abt thtf but! again ty 4 the kind words glad u enjoyed the fic glad u enjoyed the music as well!! i love the playlist 4 that fic <3

#ask #thtf #wfrau #<- glad ur enjoying this one as well! <3

20 notes · View notes

yoyoyuri · 3 months ago

Text

spoilers for 8-33 post battle under cut

OH MY GOD FINALLY

Shut the fuck up That is Hong Lu who is Human And Not Ur Camera

IS THAT YURI

Solitude steadfast lingering

loneliness regret anticipation

conflict anguish courage

longing melancholy warmth

passion adventure ferocity

futility determination love

exhilaration tragedy excitement

that’ was a cool demonstration of the cantos

Yes Dante speak your truth and enlighten us with your prosperous words

Aw… Shuckaroonies!

They all care about eachother sm srop🙁🙁🙁🙁🙁

“One end… was always just the starting line for something new” absolute peak cinema

faust let hong lu choose his name

AAAAAAAA THE BABY HONG LU IN THE REFLECTIOJ

dante’s so good at their job omfg

sorry this musics really nice sounding HIS

his

THE EGO

did he make a portal

or its like a reflection

ITS

OH MY TOOD CASSIE SOUNDS SO GOOD HERE

Jahsamahahsnamanaujwmams

NO THIS IS SO

aarhus is so good

he th

THE WATER FALL

is it washing his grandma away

THIS IS SO PEAK OH MY FODDDDD

i NEED to rewatch that i was too distracted typing (AGAIN.)

golden bough retrieved.

doing more than just witnessing.!

YES!!! ITS THE PEOPLE!!!!!!

That Was Freaking Amazing

WHAT IS HE LOOKING FOR NOW

IS that HOW THEY SEE THEOUGH HONG LUS EYE?

well thanks jia huan

wait was that a belly mention

XICHUN OH NO

GUCK I FORGOT ABOUT THIS

lei heng just DIE BRO

Like for how long we were in there i thought there’d be a winner by now

IS THAT A SMILE

LIN DAIYU

shes stills afe

WOOOO

dang he’s all bloody yet theres barely a scratch on jia qius sprite

what a way to beg for ur life.

what the hell are these Stars thet keep talkin abiut

Hit me.

well okay

placed it lightly

rings of light around (i still dk what those are)

WHAT THEFUCK

what DO U MEANT GENTLY

THAT

What THE FUCK

DANTE DONT DESCRIBE IT LIKE THAT

out of everyone who couldve died in this canto he was one of the LAST ONES i expected. i thought he’d come back for revenge like ricardo or smt

welp

kani i hope ur happy with this outcome u didnt seem to like his boss fight🙂

The Pinky

I thought he was the thumb🤨🤨

i’m gonna act like i have a single idea of what this is

WEIS ALIVE!!!!!!!! WOOPEE!!!!!!!!

OMG ZILUS SAFE

did ryōshū just speak english or is that how they say minimalistic

Q Corp???? Is this Canto 9s Place?????

HES A PINKY????

pinky’s such a funny word how are these lot the really dangerous ones

ofc dante will

bc they are dante the great

and every time smt happens they do some life changing speech and bring them back

One Of Them Seeks To Walk The Path Of asura???

i heard this meant wrath and violence and HES LOOKING AT RYOSHU

On her never drawn sword.

Okay guys yk how lei heng said that if ryoshu wanted to win she couldve unsheathed that sword just how STRONG IS SHE

edit: ok maybe i interpreted it wrong it might just be more like a “????? why aren’t u unsheathing that sword??????? don’t u want to win???????” kinda like

Canto 9😁😁😁😁😁: hi

i feel like this happy ending for canto 8 is just some ominous bells type shit for whatever they’re gonna give us for canto 9 or maybe im just biased bc its ryoshu❌

i hope that he will enjoy the joys of kiting once more

the sinners sihoukettes are so recognisable

well only my favs

no i don’t wanna think about losing our family of 12

as Hong Lu

that’s so nice awwwww

PASS ON

WOOOOOO

Someone said this sounds like a yaoi opening

I HEAR IT

Are they even in the bus????

trmember when ppl thiught he’d distort

this is so????? happy?????? like i’m genuinely so happy for him he can finally be human

omg the mili songs called tian tian

WEI AND XICHUN ARE HERE TOO

DONQUI HEATH AND RODYA DRINKING

its alright!

i love the its alright part of the song

LIN DAIYUS HERE TOO

This was amazing ohbmy goodness

do we at least get a cutscene for the end or is it just.

is that a no..?🥺

what would demian even say to us if he was here

wait we do get one

WHAT MISSION DO WE HAVE NOW

is it taxes

WHAT ARE THEY TALKING AHOUT

ISHMAEL TOO?????

THEYRE TRAINING HER?????

oh this intervallo gonna be hilarious

SHE SAID THE THROW UO FOOD AGAIN LIKE IN THE INTERVALLO

FIN!

Bro i thought we said FIN!

It’s so Dark????

XUE BAOCHAI STAY SAFE?!????

WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT

what do u MEAN BY THAT

4 notes · View notes

darkdevasofdestruction · 1 year ago

Note

hiii im not sure if u still write for death mark, but i found ur fic for yashiki and mashita’s reaction for their s/o waking them up to breakfast in bed and was wondering if u would write the same reaction but for daimon instead. if u cant thats fine!! also ur writing is very nice and cute!!

It was early morning, and the faint light of dawn filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle glow over the room. Shuuji, the ever sleep-deprived doctor with awful bed side manners, lay sprawled on the bed, his breathing steady and deep. Long hours and overwork, extra shifts had all come together to knock down the already sickly man. Just as he thought he was doing better, he reverted back to his mess of a lifestyle. Normally, he would be awake by now, to get ready for work - Thankfully, he earned a few days off to recuperate after everything.

You carefully slipped out of bed, determined to surprise him with something special. Shuuji’s lifestyle meant he often skipped meals or relied on the most basic, unhealthy food he could find - And only lord knows, doctors and vending machines or convenience stores are soulmates. You wanted to change that, at least for one morning. You tiptoed into the kitchen, hoping to create a breakfast that would show him just how much you cared - And how much you wanted him to live for a few more years by your side, at least.

The kitchen came alive with the sounds of breakfast preparations. You brewed a pot of coffee, its rich aroma filling the air - Yet this time, it wasn't straight black as he always drinks to ruin his stomach and get gastritis; You blended it with a mix of milk and honey to make it easier and smoother for his system.

You then cooked some scrambled eggs with cheese making sure to use a single drop of oil so it wouldn't make the meal too greasy and make him nauseous; With some fresh cherry tomatoes and cucumbers, the grease should be cut nicely, along with some nice and toasty sliced bread. La piece de resistance was a nice and sweet orange juice, freshly squeezed and mixed with honey, the perfect energiser.

Seeing everything neatly arranged on the colourful plates, so nice and cute, you picked up the tray and entered the room - A light meal for your scrawny and sickly darling doctor who can take care of everyone except for himself. Any more than that and he'd feel overwhelmed and run away from breakfast - As he usually does.

Shuuji was still fast asleep, his face relaxed and peaceful - It wasn't easy for him to get many restful nights in between his Death Mark nightmares and job overwork. You placed the tray on the nightstand and leaned over, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. “Good morning, my love.” you whispered softly.

His eyes fluttered open, and he looked up at you with a mix of confusion. “Morning already?” he mumbled, still half-asleep. "Have I even slept alone?"

You smiled warmly and gestured to the tray. “Enjoy breakfast - For once." you hummed in amusement, watching as the man was slowly blinking his sleepy spell away.

Shuuji blinked a few times, taking in the sight of his lovely significant other being no kind to him, and then of the tray filled with delicious food. A sleepy half-smile crept onto his face, and he let out a breathless chuckle. “You didn’t have to do all this.” he said, his groggy voice filled with gratitude. "I guess I'll choose food over sleep for once."

“I know, difficult choice, isn't it?” you grinned, cuddling into his side. “You work so hard and take care of everyone else. Let me at least take care of you today.”

Shuuji’s apathetic visage softened as he looked at you, his eyes reflecting a rare vulnerability, a once in a blue moon chance when he'd allow someone else to pamper him like this. He reached out and placed a small kiss on your cheek. “Thanks, Y/N.” he murmured, his voice as sincere as always.

You helped him sit up, arranging the pillows behind him so he could lean back comfortably. He picked up the coffee first, savoring the warmth and aroma before taking a sip. “Your coffee is always the best.” he said, his eyes meeting yours with a look of appreciation. "Hospital stuff is more like sewer water."

You watched as he started to eat, the tension in his shoulders gradually easing. It was a rare moment of relaxation for him, and you could see how much he needed it. You stayed by his side, sharing the meal and chatting about little things, enjoying the simple pleasure of each other’s company. The gentle light peering through the window was caressing his pale skin in a way that he didn't look deathly sick anymore; In fact, he seemed to have life surging through his veins.

As he finished the last bite, Shuuji set the tray aside and pulled you into his arms. “You spoil me, Y/N.” he teased, but there was a deep affection in his voice.

“You deserve it, my love.” you replied, resting your head on his shoulder. “And I love seeing you happy. - And a little less tired than usual.”

For a moment, the weight of his responsibilities seemed to lift, and Shuuji allowed himself to fully embrace the warmth of the moment. He held you close, cherishing the peace and the love you brought into his life. “I'm so lucky to have you in my life.” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead. The nightmares of the Mark were left behind, the horror of Konoehara dissipated, and all that remained was his deep affections for you.

You smiled, feeling your heart swell with love. “I love you too, Shu-chi.” he might not outright say how much he loves you, but he has many other ways to go around and express his feelings. It was fine though, you knew very well how much he loved you.

The morning passed in a blissful haze, the two of you wrapped up in each other’s arms for a full day of resting and enjoying each other's presence - A reminder of what truly mattered, a source of strength that kept them going even on the toughest days.

In that quiet, intimate moment, the world outside seemed to fade away and all that remained was the love you shared, a bond that grew stronger with every passing day; an emotion that transcended past any hardship or supernatural tragedy.

#daimon shuuji #daimon shuuji x reader #daimon shuuji imagine #death mark #death mark x reader #death mark imagine

6 notes · View notes

maurenislife · 2 years ago

Text

Miss martyr

Sir scapegoat

That is me

I wish that man blew my brains apart in that parking lot

Or when i almost had my heartrate slow down n die in my sleep off beans

Or the one time i passed out in my kitchen

What about the time i tried to jump out my window

Or the one time i tried to leap in front of a car

Jealous of me in my dreams im always dying or choosing too, getting stabbed to death while somebody looks me in my eyes n my life dont flash, it cut to black

I live pathetic existence

Like only so many times i can get up n recover or pick up my pieces n put them all back together with no regrets or like putting it back together confidently like this rlly me

Or am I overdramatic mellow dramatic

Like is it all a mixup

Till i review the footage in my brain of last 25 years

And everything stings like it happened yesterday even when im sober nothing rlly comes together my brain is a empty apartment with no where to sit, just standing there, wondering where everyone is, when is anybody coming back?

Does anybody care enough to sit n listen n care for 0$.

Everything comes at a exchanging price

When the personalities all collide

It makes one empty person,

When u finally show people how empty it is, look around when there truly is nothing more to see then its time to go

All the exes get to peak inside and see that its just as fucked up n blank in here.

How having no mother figure truly makes u feel a bit withdrawn i dont have her checking in she could rlly care less i see why im not doing anything worthy but breathing n taking up space n money by being alive

Im sure thats how my dad feels too, just preserving my body my entity cause its the proper thing to do.

Alot of things truly mean nothing

Not money, not the car being paid off, not the nicest fit or hair its to cover up all the stuff i know ill never recieve cause it cant be bought u cant buy love or warmth or a soul or innocence or buy back anything literally forced outta me.

Its now just me

Gotta worry bout me

Why u do fake pills maybe a lucky one will take me out this life, put me in the infinite sleep cycle,

So peaceful thinking about the day u wont be here.

My biggest mistake was ever rlly just not playing the role i know how to play well,

Zip it!

Everything done to me is sad no doubt

But whats sadder is i truly believed my prayers worked i never pray yanno im like omg somebodies listening to me besides

Doris and its not true there is no god for me

Devil ingrained the future for me long time ago, suffering since just in the pit of my stomach i stand in the empty small space. I stare in the room

Its just me again void is unfillable

Once my grandma leave this earth i will do the same maybe not now, I threaten kms all the time cause its peaceful

This life is full of broken promises and people willing to make them knowing theres only one promise

Death

Love isnt promised unless u love yourself

I can touch my hand in the mirror n still feel bad for the reflection

I know im not the prettiest the funniest or the bestest im literally on bottom of my own shoe

Shes terrible, i can be replaced with better

I can do better i can try harder but its the void right there, it doesnt care what you may do, who u are. Ur void is the never ending pocket of what u will never have.

I wanted all the pathetically dumb shit

0 notes

soaringsearingphoenix · 5 years ago

Note

Valentine's Day Asks: The Prime Numbers

Wow! I dont know why i didnt see the notification for this one but ok, alright ah

1. do you have a crush on anyone?

I guess so? There are people who Stand Out to me and i call them crushes in my head sometimes but mostly I just want to be friends with them. Like I dont usually get dizzying sweeps of emotion for someone, physical or romantic, but I do get an urgent and baseless desire to hang out with them... maybe take a walk or invite them to get ice cream. So like if we’re on the same page about what I call a Crush on my emotional scale then yes. Theres a couple people.

2. what’s your favorite candy?

I like lemonheads and i will eat them until im sick of them if given half a chance. I also like snickers now because theres peanuts in it so i get to pretend im making a healthy choice

3. favorite love song?

Slow Boat To China, any version but specifically sung by Bette Midler and Barry Manilow. You know, like, just the corniest possible version? Partly for nostalgia, because it was one of like three CDs i remember my mom playing all the time when we were just kind of around the house when I was little. It also has the distinction of being the first duet I learned the words to (though as far as im aware none of my friends know the lyrics... i dont think ive ever actually sung it with someone) and it’s probably gotta be the one that gets stuck in my head the most. Right down to the dumb banter in the middle (“Bette, I didn’t know you felt that way about me.” “I don’t. I need a piano player.”)

I also like “Somewhere Beyond The Sea.” I think, as a general rule, that if there are boats in the words to a love song I will probably like it.

5. what was your last kiss like?

Meaningful

7. do you prefer poems or love letters?

Ahhhhhhhhhh to read or to write? I like writing poems because I think they’re... easier honestly? Writing is so hard, identifying your feelings is hard. Having some constraints makes writing easier, and a rhyme and cadence makes it flow. Besides, it’s more musical that way so I think for me it feels like a more natural expression of love. I do well with more structured expression, and not so much with making just raw, unrefined feelings known.

Not to say writing poetry is easy. It’s less difficult than a love letter, sure, but there are still potential pitfalls. If i make a metaphor that makes me think of science, the rest of the poem WILL be just an extension of the metaphor that gets more and more didactic until I’m just telling you science facts.

11. dinner dates or brunch dates?

Dinner dates. I decided that before i came up with a reason why. I think the reason is that an evening engagement means I have something to look forward to, or be nervous about but then i have time to mentally prepare myself. Whereas morning, even if it’s not “early” morning, I feel more stressed about getting there on time and then afterwards theres a whole rest of the day where i either have to get somewhere after, or its just this unstructured uncertainty. Dinner, youve already done the rest of the day, so you can be present without worrying about what you gotta get to after.

13. favorite perfume/cologne?

I... dont know that ive ever noticed a perfume or cologne and felt it was applied tastefully, because i think if it is insubtle it defeats the point. That said, if it’s actually well applied so that it’s less an overwhelming cloud that trails comically behind people you pass in the quad and more like when someone sits down right next to you om the couch and you get just a hint of their shampoo or conditioner, to the point where maybe you didnt even consciously notice it before but now you say “oh, you’re the reason ive been craving ice cream, you smell minty” if it was only that subtle then i think im generally fond of more smoky incense-y smells like sandalwood, or roses but i am picky about rose fragrances, so it has to actually smell just like fresh roses or i wont be able to overlook that the smell is not roses. I have this friend who went to my middle school, and we were very into scents and making potpourri and things. At the time, his grandma had a hand soap that smelled exactly like roses, it was delightful and he said as much and I said that it sounded amazing but I’d have to take his word for it, but then the next time he visited her he came back with a little jar of it for me just so i could smell it, and he was right, it smelled just like roses. Actually forget the roses, it will make me think of the hand soap and as lovely as that is I dont want to give anyone vying for my affection any reason to feel like they’re in competition with someone, or something. It’s not a competition. Learn to coexist with my memories, because you’re not going to fight my nostalgia and win.

17. what’s the most attractive thing a person could wear?

If you’re wearing something knit or embroidered that you made yourself Im definitely gonna want to talk to you. Also if you’re wearing really comfy looking cargo pants but thats probably because i want to know where you got them so i can get some for me.

19. snow, rain, or sun?

Sun because people will take a walk with me

23. what’s your dream wedding like?

Dont have one but if i did its in a forest or at least a grove of trees. Mostly small gathering, family and close friends. I have a dress for the vows i guess, just because ive seen a lot of Say Yes to the Dress so thats how ive generally pictured it, (which i only really do when im watching Say Yes to the Dress), but ive got comfortable shoes, and im gonna change into pants asap after. We probably do some corny thing thats kind of an inside joke. Each of us has a Best Man or equivalent, who carries a sword — we joke that this makes it a “traditional” wedding, though beyond that it’s really not meant to be. It’s mostly simple, though maybe have a little extravagance or two, like a chocolate fountain, because how often do you have an excuse to have a chocolate fountain. I tend to wander off from other peoples weddings somewhere in the middle, at some point i just get a little overstimulated, and the amount of people that will likely be invited makes this probable. At the reception, when the families and friends are singing and dancing, i probably quietly excuse myself to my spouse and drift away, finding a spot in a tree where i can still hear the music and the laughter from a distance. I am joined not long after by my spouse (and the thought is strange, and even then i cant quite wrap my mind around that word yet, the commitment it implies) who knows where to look for me, and who perhaps pulls a leaf or two from my hair as they join me on an adjacent branch. We sit quietly together for some time until it seems appropriate to rejoin the festivities, as it is our wedding after all, and the slow dance is coming up, and we will spend some quiet time later when everyone has gone home. It is nice, the dancing, and as tired as we are we still drift around the dance floor among loved ones long into the night.

I dont know if this is like... how i intend my wedding to be. Like i said i didnt have an answer going in. But now that im trying to imagine it, this feels realistic.

29. are you single?

Yup!

31. guitar or piano?

Piano. First of all because i am better at piano than guitar and second because you can do duets on one piano

37. do you like to dance?

Aw hell yeah!! I would call myself an... Inexperienced dancer, but if a song has a good rhythm or even if it doesnt and i am full of energy i WILL be moving and twisting and you ARE welcome to join me

41. favorite soda?

I usually go for lighter ones like orange or sprite. I found Lime fanta at a gas station once that tasted like green jello and it was good but ive only seen it maybe twice ever.

43. favorite ABBA song?

Gimme Gimme Gimme always gets me on my feet, and ive listened to it probably the most because it’s on my “Dates and Times Playlist” (the first line says ‘half past 12’ and then the chorus says ‘after midnight’ so its in with a collection of other midnight songs. Any time i hear any of the others i get this one in my head as well. Thatd just how it is.)

47. do you think about love a lot?

#just kidding of course i think about love a lot #but usually its how much i love my friends #apparently my love language is s c r o l l i n g to find old ask memes #long post #long post cw #thanks tho!!! this was fun #as far as my poetry goes #itll be like ‘my darling you light up ny world... like the sun’#and then its like ‘my world revolves around u like the earth to the sun’#and then its like ‘i love u for ur warmth... u make me feel alive... of every body around me its u i feel closest to... like the sun’#and then its like ‘ur light is radiant... hotter than a flame... ‘ something about not being eclipsed because youll still shine through #and at that point im just straight up talking about the sun #i cant find The poem im thinking about that just straight up turns into a list of traits the sun has like four lines in #but i did write a song that i definitely have the lyrics to #and the song is good because i didnt try to write it about a person i went in knowing it was gonna sound like a love song n be about science #actually i mightve wanted to write a love song but i abandoned that right away and changed the beginning i had to fit what i was rly writing

17 notes · View notes

arthenaa · 3 years ago

Text

LOVE IN THE DARK

RENGOKU KYOUJURO X READER

Summary : Saving your life by turning you into a demon by Tamayo, she offers your services for intel to Kagaya Ubayashiki who warmly accepts the offer. You come to the Demon Slayer headquarters at night to deliver information when you bump into an all familiar Flame Hashira.

content : gender neutral, angst w fluff, canon divergent, ppl being mean bc ur a demon , u look at ubayashiki as ur father figure aw

Everything feels .... heavy.

You could remember the feeling of being cold, the smell of blood and how heavy your body felt. You tried opening your eyes, warm light seeping into the darkness. Suddenly a pair of cold hands gently hold your shoulders.

“Easy. Yushiro grab more bandages and one of my stashes from the lab.”

Your eyes slowly open, trying to focus your gaze on the woman beside you. The last thing you remembered was when a strange man suddenly attacked your family. Your oldest brother screamed at you to flee as that man bit into his arm. You could only run in fear, blood trailing behind you. You weren’t even sure if it was yours.

“W-Where am I?” You whispered. Your throat was sore and you felt like a train ran into you. The woman gently pats your forehead, a smell lulling you to a state of calmness. Another person suddenly walks into the room, carrying what you suspected was what the woman ordered. The man settles beside her as he hands her a suspicious container.

“Drink first. I’ll explain later.” She smiles before helping you sit up. You weakly grasp for the container, surprising yourself as you gulp it down like you haven’t drank in days. You wipe your lips after but shock only fills your brain as you look down at the red tint on your wrist.

“W-What?”

“You were almost dead, dear.” The woman mumbles as she sets the container to the side. “I had to do what I can to save you. I’m Tamayo and this is Yushiro. We found you outside our place all bloodied and near death.”

“What did you make me drink?” You whisper as you look at her with fear. The panic creeping back in. You glance towards the mirror situated at the front of the bed, your eyes were different. You felt different.

“Blood.” Tamayo gently grasps your hand. “Human blood specifically. I turned you into a demon with my own and we had to make sure that you were neutralized before feeding you.”

You could only stare at yourself as Tamayo continues to explain what happened and what attacked you. You felt empty. You didn’t feel like yourself. This woman had saved you by turning you into something that if you told someone you’d probably think you were crazy.

“I know you’re feeling confused and shocked about everything but do not worry.” Tamayo’s eyes were warm despite her cold temperature. “I’ll be here to guide you through it.”

You could only bask into the warmth of her expressions as if its the only thing convincing you that you were alive.

_______________

“This is them young master.” A demon slayer mumbles as he goes into a protective stance in front of a raven haired man. You look at the man with lifeless eyes as you kneel in front of him.

“You’re the Y/N Tamayo spoke of, correct?” His gentle voice felt like a soft breeze that blew against your skin. This man was the leader of an organization that had its primary goal to destroy people like you. Demons.

When you were able to properly recover, you had tried your very best to make yourself useful for Tamayo. She had saved you and even kept you under her wing when you didn’t have anywhere to go to. You were mostly her errand runner. You collected the blood donations from those who were willing to give and even gathered intel on the current whereabouts of certain demons. Recently, Tamayo had been in contact with the leader of the Demon Slayer Corps. You weren’t sure what it was until Tamayo came up to you for a job.

“You have to provide Kagaya Ubayashiki information about the locations of the Upper Moons. If possible, even Muzan. You’re under their radar so I think its possible.”

You feel the dangerous auras of the soldiers standing beside him. “Yes. I’ve done side jobs for Tamayo that require gathering information. I’ll try my best in helping you with your plans.”

Ubayashiki smiles. “Then, I’ll expect you around from here on out, Y/N.”

_______________

You had returned from gathering intel regarding the whereabouts of 2 lower moons when you heard of the existence of another demon in the headquarters. You tightly grasp the handle of your wagasa as you lean against the wall, listening in on the conversation between two Kanoe ranked slayers.

“Apparently the Hashiras had a meeting with a member of the corps who had his sister turned into a demon. Even with the scent of blood, she didn’t attack anyone.” One slayer mentioned. You look down at the ground, surprised at the news. Even you, who drank only when needed, still salivated under the scent of blood. Which is why Tamayo had given you a handkerchief that had a scent blocker. It helped you on many occasions.

You went on to deliver the information to the young master. You had closed your umbrella off when a sudden eerie feeling of someone standing behind you. You turned around as fast as you could, eyes widened with fear as you looked at the culprit in front of you. Flaming locks of orange and a wide eyed gaze, the Flame Hashira himself stood before you. The Hashiras were aware of your existence but disapproved of it. The master himself was the only reason why you were able to freely enter and exit the premises and with the existence of another demon in the headquarters, the Hashira felt more dangerous than ever.

“F-Flame Hashira.” You tried to mumble out as your eyes immediately looked down to the floor by instinct. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

A long silence. You could feel the cold wind of the night brush past you. The intensity of his stare prickling your skin. The man leans down causing you to look up at him.

“For a demon with superhuman abilities, you seem awfully unaware of your surroundings.” He smiles before leaning back up. You bite your lip in embarrassment.

“I-It’s because I trusted the master enough to know that I will not be harmed by your people.” You reply. Rengoku crosses his arms in a calculative stance.

“And if I cut you down right here right now?”

You stare at him, analyzing his body language. “You’re not like that I believe. I’d be convinced if it was the Wind or Snake Hashira however you only battle when there is a need or urgency. My existence may pose a harm to your beliefs but I have not done anything to warrant your blade against my neck.”

Rengoku continues to stare at you for a while before bursting out, laughing. “I can see why the master protects you. The existence of two demons inside the headquarters are sure enough of a headache however if it grants us victory then so be it.”

He gently pats your head before walking away. You could only stare at the space he once was when you hear your once dead heart beat again.

_________________

“Your Ms. Tamayo’s informant?” Tanjiro smiles on his bed as he gently pats the small demon on his lap. You look at the gentle sleeping form of his sister before looking up at him.

“Yes. She asked me to visit you and inform her of your current state of health.” You reply. Tanjiro had asked to be moved to a private room with closed curtains so that his sister may freely move around during the day. It was currently night time but convenient since there weren’t any people around. Tanjiro nods in understanding.

“I’m doing alright. I was surprised to know that a demon had already been working for the corps. I was scared that they’d harm Nezuko but I’m relieved.” He sighs as he continues to lull his sister to sleep. “How about you? How are you feeling?”

It had been awhile since you had a normal conversation with someone other than Yushiro or Tamayo. One that didn’t involve demons and slayers. One that asked how you were too. You gently chuckled at the question while the young boy tilted his head in confusion. “I’m doing alright. No need to worry about me.”

Tanjiro hums before grinning once again. “Rengoku-san mentioned you once in passing. He visited me a few days ago, curious about Muzan’s whereabouts I believe and then he said, “I do remember a person who also visits during the night. I believe you’ll be well acquainted with them. They are quite adorable.” Word per word!”

Tanjiro looked quite proud of himself for remembering the ever energetic man’s words but you could only look at him as if he had grown another pair of eyes. “He … called me adorable?”

“Mhm!” Tanjiro hums. “He said you reminded him of a turtle I think? Or was it a dog …. “

Certainly enough, you could feel a phantom heat surge through your cheeks. You stand up from your seat, bowing towards the siblings. “Take care, both of you. Thank you for the opportunity.” Then you bolted out of the room, leaving the young slayer in confusion.

________________

You could feel the death stares of two Hashiras stabbing the side of your head.

Ubayashiki had encouraged you to join the meeting as you had valuable intel to share. He had called the Flame, Wind, Snake and Water Hashira over for a debrief. They hadn’t expected you to join.

“We can do well without a demon informant. For all we know they could’ve been an informant of Muzan too.” The Wind Hashira, Sanemi grumbles. Obanai grunts in agreement. You try to make yourself as small as possible on your seat beside the door.

“This demon is a valuable asset to our plans. Most of your missions and the information we gathered are all thanks to them.” Ubayashiki calmly replies.

“With all due respect Oyakata-sama, I agree with Sanemi. They may have contributed a lot but we’re almost done with our plans. We have to discard this method now before anything goes wrong. We don’t even know if they’re under the control of Muzan.” Obanai responds. The Water Hashira stays silent but with the amount of experience you had in knowing body language from gathering intel, you knew he was on their side. You glance at the Flame Hashira who still had a neutral expression.

“Tamayo had assured us that there is no influence of Muzan on Y/N and so far, they have not exhibited behavior that would allow expulsion or harm from our side.” Ubayashiki argues. The young master glances at Rengoku who has been uncharacteristically quiet the whole time. “Kyojuro? Your thoughts?”

Your head bows down with a feeling of dread down your neck. Somehow, you were afraid that Rengoku would take their side. Your fingers grasp the fabric of your pants tightly.

“They’ve proved themself useful so far and we’ve come such a long way because of them. I don’t think it would be wise to remove them.” Rengoku looks at you with an uncertain emotion in his eyes. You look up at him in surprise.

The three scoff in silence while the young master smiles. “Then the matter is solved. Onto the main course of this meeting. Y/N?”

You let out a shaky breath.

Why were you glad? You knew that ever since you had turned into this, people would treat you differently and yet the warmth that evokes from Rengoku made you feel normal again. Once the meeting had ended, Kagaya had asked you for a short talk. The Water Hashira had remained to keep watch of the young master but far enough for both of you to talk. You stared at the cup of tea that one of his children had offered you.

“Has everything been faring well for you?” He asks as he gently raises his cup to drink. You gently hum in response. He smiles before placing the cup down. You stare at his features, taking note of how his illness had begun to spread. It only felt like yesterday when you met the young master, eyes still clear and his expressions less painful. “You worry for me.”

Your eyes widened. “How did you-”

“You always stay quiet when you observe. You take your time and then you make your move.” He mumbles as he looks to the open space to the side of the room where the garden is situated. A breeze flows past him, his raven locks gently moving back and forth.

“It’s spreading faster.” You bite your lip as you begin to acknowledge the feelings of fear. You had grown rather attached to the man who sits before you. Not in a close type of way but just his existence. It calms you the same way your father did. Losing him felt like you were losing family once again. “I-If we could just ask Lady Tamayo and the Insect Hashira then-”

“Y/N.”

Your body tenses at the stern tone. You look up at him hesitantly but the man only flashes you with a soft smile.

“It’s best not to worry about the impossible. It’ll only confuse you even further.” Ubayashiki smiles. “Live your life, Y/N.”

____________

“Ah, the informant. We meet again!”

The Flame Hashira himself had yet again appeared before you. Just like your previous encounter, after gathering intel you had visited the Master’s headquarters to deliver the information. When you turned to a corner, it took you by surprise to see the flame user.

“Lord Rengoku.” You bow in respect. The Hashira laughs softly.

“No need for that. You make me sound like I’m my father.” He smiles. He looks out at the night sky. “I know you’re on your way to deliver information. May I be granted permission to escort you?”

You sigh before nodding. It was no use in saying no to this man. His entire existence seemed impossible to say no to. The Hashira gleefully walks beside you as you both make your way to the Master’s chambers.

“Forgive me for asking but why do I always see you here at night?” You glance at him curiously. He hums softly, thinking of his answer.

“No reason really. I just like to make rounds during this time. Keeps me alert.” He replies. You nod in understanding.

“How about you? You always seem to carry an umbrella around but as far as I know you gather information when the moon is up.” He asks. Your hand feels heavy as you hold your wagasa in your palm.

“It’s also my weapon. It makes using my abilities easier.” You reply with a gentle smile. When you first discovered your demon art, it surprisingly harmed you. The power to wield frost really got out of hand as you’d almost freeze a room or someone by accident. Even yourself. Yushiro attested to this. Yushiro and Tamayo helped construct a medium that would help you control your powers. You were really grateful for them helping you out.

Rengoku stops in his tracks causing you to stop as well. Just like in your first meeting, he had begun to stare at you again. “Lord Rengoku?”

He lets out a breath as he brushes a stray strand of hair that fell against your cheek. “You don’t look like one.”

Your breath hitches. “Huh?”

“You don’t look like a demon.” He mumbles quietly before moving his hand back. Your eyes look up at his unreadable face. You wanted to ask more. Why did he say that? What did he mean? But all of that was cut short when one of Ubayashiki’s guards had called you. You both spend a few minutes of silence together before Rengoku bows slightly then leaves. Once again, you stare at the space where he once was, unable to grasp the intentions of Rengoku Kyojuro.

_____________

“I’m here on Oyakata-sama’s orders.” You stand before Kanao, the Insect Hashira’s tsuguko. She had been guarding the front gate, wary of your arrival before finally letting you in. You had been here in direct orders to deliver a sample of an antidote to Shinobu herself. The Insect Hashira was working all night so this was a perfect chance to accomplish what you had been ordered. You entered the Butterfly estate with hesitant steps. The woman who ran this household had used her medical expertise to give demons the most painful death possible. She was one of the people you didn’t want to be on the wrong side of …. Although technically you already are. Kanao leads you to a living area where three young girls greet you.

“The Insect Hashira informed us that you’d be visiting with the package! She’s not here right now but she’ll be arriving soon. We were tasked to deliver this to her room.” One of the girls said. You nod before carefully giving the sample to her. “We’ll be right back.”

The three of them run off to deliver the package leaving you with Kanao. You spare a glance to the young tsuguko who only stares ahead with an unreadable look. Both her and the Insect Hashira have the same expression. You were about to comment on it before a loud shatter is audibly heard from where you are. Kanao flinches in worry before dashing off to where the sound is. You follow carefully from behind, curious as to what happened. Before you could see what it was, the familiar scent of blood began to waft around you.

Oh no.

Sweat begins to form against your forehead as you lean against the wall, hands trying to grab the handkerchief. You couldn’t find it. Where is it? Where the fuck is it-

The smell begins to grow stronger and saliva begins to build up in your mouth. You look up at the scene before you and your eyes grow in shock. One of the girls had broken an empty vial since there was no evidence of spilled liquid around, injuring their hand. The other two had the injured girl wrapped in their arms in a protective stance as Kanao stood in front of them, sword unsheathed.

In such a short amount of time, they had turned against you.

You felt disgusted by yourself.

You tried to explain yourself when a sudden burst of force knocked you towards the wall. You couldn’t even process the second it happened. A sudden rush of pain bursts through your arm. Your arm had broken and the wall behind you had been damaged by the force. You grunt in pain as you try to understand what happened then you see it. You see the dangerous glint in his eyes. The Flame Hashira was suddenly in front of you, blade turned towards you with a hostile stance. You knew that if you had tried to move, you would be dead.

You could feel yourself choking up the feeling of pain and sadness. He looked at you differently now. Moving as slowly as you could with a broken arm, you bow with your head against the floor. “I-I do not have any intentions of harming anyone. Please forgive me.”

There was no reply. They do not trust you.

With a shaky breath, you decide if this is where you’ll die then so be it. “If you wish to strike me for my behavior go ahe-”

“Stop.” The gentle voice of the Insect Hashira had startled everyone in the room. You made no moves to lift your head from the floor. Rengoku glances at his comrade before lowering his sword. “What are you doing here, Kyojuro?”

The girls slowly become less tense as they see the head of the estate. Rengoku smiles at Shinobu. “I was sent here to come get you once you were able to receive the sample. Seems like I was too early.”

Shinobu nods before glancing at you. “Leave. You’ve done your job.” Then she turns to her apprentices. “Come. I need to patch Aoi up and talk to the four of you. Wait for me outside Rengoku.”

You nod before moving yourself up and trying your best to bolt out of the estate as fast as you can. As you walk down the step of the stairs, a hand grabs your wrist. Smelling the familiar scent, you don’t turn around.

“I’m sorry.”

You look back towards him with a sad smile. “It’s alright. I’ve learned to accept the moment I turned into this that I’d always be faced with hostility. You acted because it was your duty.”

You pulled your wrist away from him before disappearing into the night, failing to notice a sad pair of eyes lingering on your form.

_________________

It was done. It was finally finished.

What you all had worked so hard for.

Muzan was dead.

And aside from that, Shinobu and Tamayo had been able to create an antidote that turned demons back to humans. You had helped in delivering the antidotes to all those who had been affected. There were many losses but now the air felt lighter.

You place a bouquet of flowers on a grave before making a short prayer. A breeze of air brush past you, gently tousling your hair. You had missed the feeling of the sun against your skin. You stare up at the cherry blossoms moving against the wind, a gentle smile on your lips.

“You still seem to be quite the same, you know?” A familiar voice startles you from your peaceful reverie. You look to your side to see a familiar face. The face you’ve grown to miss so dearly. You had sobbed so much when you saw his injured form rushed into the Butterfly estate. After losing an arm, he still looked quite handsome. He places another bouquet of flowers beside yours, looking down on it with a gentle smile. “He sure is proud of what you’ve done.”

You both stare at the Ubayashiki family grave in silence, allowing the sounds of nature to do the talking. Your comfortable silence was then cut off when Rengoku clears his throat.

“I’m still sorry for what I’ve done back at the estate. I really should’ve just tried to understand the situation. I knew you wouldn’t do that and yet-”

“Rengoku.” You smile. “It’s alright. It hurts but I understand why you’ve done it.”

He nods, still not quite convinced that you’ve forgiven him. You laugh softly at his expression before holding his hand. “You really made me feel normal through all the times we interacted. I’m glad we had the chance to talk.”

He smiles. “Me too. I felt like I was just a normal guy talking to you. I strangely didn’t see you as a demon.”

“Well I’m really not a demon now am I?” You squeeze his arm in a joking tone. He laughs at your joke before silence ensues between the both of you again. You stare at each other with a fond look.

“If I knew that all of that would come to this. I should’ve taken the chance to get closer to you.” Rengoku whispered. You tilt your head in curiosity.

“What do you mean?” You replied softly. Rengoku steps closer, brushing a stray strand back against your ear. He smiles.

“Will you allow me to get the chance to know you once more?” He presses a soft kiss on the back of your hand. “Properly this time.”

Your cheeks heat up at the gesture before nodding. “I would love to.”

This time you knew that you wouldn’t have to hide in the dark anymore.

#kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #rengoku x reader #shinobu kochou #iguro obanai #rengoku kyojuro #kny x reader #sanemi shinaguzawa #tanjiro kamado #nezuko kamado #kanao tsuyuri

275 notes · View notes

workofheart · 4 years ago

Note

36+40 with Levi 👁

I love ur writing btw that bodyguard one was WOOOOOOO

this is honestly a fav thank u so much for the request, went kind of ham bc i love this idea. sorry if it hurts ur heart <3

one more | levi + “we’re not just friends and you fucking know it” + “if you’re going to act like a brat then i’m going to treat you like a brat”

warnings: angst/implied nsfw, aggressive levi, “hate to love you” kind of fucking, 18+ minors dni

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“i have feelings for you. and i think you have them for me, too.”

levi is not a man of many words - that much is obvious. he keeps it short and to the point, not one for meaningless chatter or even thinking out loud, preferring to save his input for when it matters most.

rare is such a thing due to him being rendered speechless by another person, not able to speak even if he wanted. he’s never been struck so voiceless in his life, dumbfounded and heart sinking at your admission.

his silence is deafening. coming here so late at night, you thought you had all the aces in your palm. you were so sure, but his lack of reciprocation to what you were just so confident tells you all you need to know.

he can’t stand to look you in the eyes, averting them to the papers strewn across his desk. “...it’s not that simple,” is all he can manage.

feeling embarrassed, you swallow thickly. “then what is it?”

“we’re comrades,” he offers, but damage control doesn’t look good on him. you wonder why he’s even trying. “i’d even call you my friend.”

you let out a wounded laugh at that, crossing your arms over your chest.. “come on, levi, are you kidding?”

there you go again, as if you can hear the thoughts racing through his mind before he can think them himself. of course he feels it, probably more than you, if he’s completely honest. but he can’t do it to himself again. he’s not sure if he can love someone like he wants to love you and come out alive on the other end.

“listen-”

“we’re not just friends and you fucking know it” you mutter, turning away from him. you can’t even look him in the eyes, from the humility, from the chance that maybe you’ve been wrong this whole time, from the chance you’re truly just in denial. have you just been misreading it all these years?

patience thinning, he stands from his chair to look at you properly, on your level now. “okay, and so what? you know how things are. you know how this life gets.” his lips are pursed, unwavering, sour.

a bitter expression takes root on your face. he hates it.

“i’d rather love and lose than be a coward and never love at all.”

levi’s eyes narrow, a harrowing clench to his jaw ensues. it’s a shock to hear it coming from you. in fact, he’s astonished. he’s never seen your seething denunciations first hand, though he’s heard so much in passing, and such abrasiveness from you feels like a brutal strike to the jaw. your acrid words sting his pride, spear through his facade like you knew it would.

he could tolerate attitude: he couldn’t tolerate being called a coward.

his voice drops. “don’t talk to me like that.”

“someone has to say it. the stoic act isn’t doing anything for you.”

he scoffs, incredulous. “you’re acting like a child.”

“you’re the one denying your feelings because you’re scared of getting hurt,” you argue, volume rising, “that’s childish if i’ve ever seen it.” you voice bounces off the walls of the room, and you can’t even be bothered to care about people hearing you when you’re so beat down.

you don’t even see it coming. with a swift movement, levi is storming toward you, has his hands wrapping around your upper arms, pushing you back against the door you stand in front of. you barely get the chance to look into his eyes before he has his lips on yours, firm and rough and unrelenting and...

and so, so inviting. once the initial shock fades, you can’t help but kiss him back, trying to match his pace, trying to find something to do with your hands when they’re still pinned back. but as soon as he feels you reciprocate, he’s pulling away.

eyes widening, you shake your head at him. “what do you think you’re doing?” you ask, chest heaving as you try to collect your breath.

“if you’re going to act like a brat, then i’m going to treat you like one.”

his grip on your arms slides down to your wrists and then he’s dragging you across the room, pushing you inside his separate bedroom before you can even process what’s happening.

“you want me to tell you how i feel? fine.” he grumbles, pushing you down onto the bed and shrugging off his suit jacket. “you’re the only person around here who sees through me.”

he clamors out of his shoes and belt, discards his gear straps to the side. you’re frozen to your spot, unsure whether to undress, to walk away, or to wait for levi’s order. it’s almost laughable, how he has you collapsing so easily in a matter of moments.

“you look at me like you know what i’m thinking.”

he’s down to his trousers, shirt tosses carelessly over the footboard, before he’s crawling on top of you, movements calculated and intimidating as he pushes you back further and further like an animal toying with its prey. panting, he hovers over you, drinking up the hazy fear in your eyes.

“you make me so fucking frustrated.”

he grips your jaw in his hand, harshly locking his lips with yours, his rugged hold giving you nowhere to go.

levi presses another rough kiss to your mouth, swallowing the lewd sound you can’t hold back and pulls away, huffing as he forces you to look at him. “you make me feel like my life is fucking falling apart. and you’re right, that scares the shit out of me.”

he’s in a pit of turmoil, stuck between his desires and the thought of consequences, but his rash judgment pushes it all out. he’ll worry about regret later. it’s not like doesn’t already have an abundance of that hanging over him at every given moment - what’s one more?

“tell me you want me,” he grunts, stilling his movements. he needs you to say it, needs to hear you so he knows it’s real.

your arms reach up to tangle around his neck. “i want you,” you cry between his lips, hands tugging at his hair with greed, trying to pull him closer. it’s not just confirmation, it’s a plea.

warmth spreads through his body yet he feels himself shiver at the way you cling to him. it doesn’t take long to get you out of your clothes. he wants it off, off, off, and you’re not one to deny him. he bites at your neck, nips at the shell of your ear, whispers cruel teases there right where only you can hear him. each new expanse of skin you uncover for him is a new way to torture you, make you feel how much he wants you now, knowing he won’t let himself have you later in a way more than this.

his eyes are glued to you as he slips inside, staring down at the mess he’s made of you. purple lovebites blossom across your flushed, heaving chest. your cunt is dripping, aching for something only he can give you. you’re hot and needy and lewd, just for him, just how he made you, and you had the nerve to call him a coward.

your mouth falls open at the feeling of his cock dragging sweet against your walls, squeezing him in the best way possible. it draws a low groan from him; he can’t tear his gaze away from how you tremble, dying for the moment to last, the pure pleasure he’s giving you rewarding him with how absolutely beautiful you look like this.

leaning forward, he drops his forearms to the sheets so he has you caged, chest pressing to yours. by now his skin is glossy, struggling to keep himself together with the moans you let out for him.

reaching down your figure, his calloused fingers find your clit to rub tight, hard circles that have you shaking. he picks his head up just to see your reaction, the way your eyes squeeze together, the way your back arches beneath him, the way you say his name like a prayer when you cum.

levi can bring you to your climax as many times as he wants. he’s more than able, more than willing. your body bends to his commands at a single touch. but the both of you know that’s not really what you’re here for.

he grits his teeth as he chases his own high, savoring the feel of your hands in his hair and how you clutch to his every movement, letting the confession spill off the tip of his tongue.

“fuck, i love you,” he pants into your neck, his heavy breaths puffing against your dampening skin. he feels the start crash over him in more ways than one with tears brimming on his lash line. not letting up, his strokes are smooth and fast and deep, as if he’s trying to make up for lost time, as if he’s trying to coax every filthy sound of reassurance he can out of you in the only way he knows how. “you know i do, shit, and you still make me say it.”

levi is not a man of many words, but god if he won’t give them to you when you ask.

#levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman smut #levi ackerman angst #levi ackerman imagine #levi ackerman fanfic #aot smut #aot x reader #levi smut #levi x reader #levi angst

576 notes · View notes

combat-wombatus · 5 years ago

Text

Nightmare

Pairing: Hawks (Takami Keigo) x gn!reader

Genre: angst, fluffy ending

Warnings: choking (at the beginning), implied abuse, unintended physical assault?

WC: 1.5k

Summary: Hawks has a nightmare and you comfort him.

(A/N): not me skipping out on school homework again to write this-

anyways a lovely anon requested “reader comforting Hawks after a nightmare” and said something about Hawks’s father being a convicted villain. now, i’m not a manga reader so i don’t exactly know what’s happening at this point, so i did my own little take on it. u didn’t include the gender of the reader in ur request so i did my best to make it gender neutral! hope you enjoy, anon! have a lovely day ❤️ (and if u don’t like this take on it u can always request something else or a diff version of this!! i don’t mind at all! 😘 )

You woke up suddenly, the feeling of a hand wrapped around your throat making it impossible to breathe. Gasping for air, you struggled uselessly against the strong hand holding you captive.

“K-Keigo,” you rasped out, hands clawing desperately at the fingers constricting your airway. “L-let go, K-Keigo. I-it’s,” you coughed, spluttering. “It’s me.” You tried to keep a calm mind, but your vision was getting hazier by the moment, your thrashing slowing, running out of energy.

Finally, you stop struggling. Maybe he’d let go if he believed that you, or whichever entity you replaced in his head, was dead. He snarled once, then his grip around your neck slowly loosened. You sucked in air greedily, gulp after gulp, as if you’d never breathe again.

Once you had calmed yourself down, you slowly reached up to cup your boyfriend’s face with your hands, cradling it like he was the most delicate thing in the world.

“Baby,” you whispered, the choking having taken its toll on your voice. “Keigo, honey, wake up. You’re having another nightmare.”

Maybe calling him by his first name in a circumstance like this wasn’t the best idea. He immediately snatched both of your wrists and pinned them above your head. You winced at the sudden movement, and you could feel your muscles stretching further than they were meant to.

“Baby,” you tried again. “Hawks.”

His body went still when you called him that. His breath hitched, and his grip on your wrist loosened ever so slightly.

Slowly, you moved your wrists apart, then moved in to wrap your boyfriend in a bear hug. You rubbed his back soothingly, careful to avoid touching his wings, and murmured softly into his neck.

“It’s okay, honey. It’s okay. You’re just having another nightmare.”

Slowly, he shifted away from you. Blinking groggily into your eyes, he tried to recollect himself. You managed a small smile of relief, which disappeared quickly as soon as you saw his eyes latch onto your bruised neck.

“Babe,” his voice was small, almost as if he was scared this was real. “Babe, did I do that to you?” His voice cracked.

Clearing your throat to try and get rid of the excess scratchiness that remained, you replied as calmly as you could. “Yeah babe, but it’s okay, you were just having another nightmare. You didn’t really hurt me, see?” You tried to take his hand and place it on your neck to prove to him that you weren’t hurt, but he flinched away at your touch. You blinked back tears, trying not to let them fall. Why was this so hard?

You pushed back the covers to your bed and padded into the kitchen. Opening the cabinets, you looked for the hot cocoa mix that was perpetually in stock at your boyfriend’s apartment. He loved hot cocoa, and although chamomile was usually the “calming” tea, you found that cocoa had a much better effect on Keigo.

Quickly brewing two cups, you added some marshmallows and carried them back into the bedroom. Sitting down on the bed next to Keigo, you nudged him lightly with your elbow.

“Drink.” You held out a cup to him.

Wordlessly, he reached out and took the cup from you. He took careful measured sips, never once looking at you. You focused your eyes on your own cup instead and winced when you took your first sip. You hadn’t expected it to be so painful to swallow. Apparently, your throat muscles were still sore. Forcing yourself to take sips of the drink normally so that he wouldn’t catch on and ask what was wrong, you sat in silence, waiting until he was ready to talk.

Keigo moved to speak, but words wouldn’t come out of his mouth. He’d hurt you. Badly. If you hadn’t managed to think quickly enough to play dead, and then to realize that calling him by his hero name would be better than calling him by his given name, who knows what would’ve happened? Would he have killed you?

The sounds that came out of his mouth were more of a choked sob than anything else. Why? Why did this happen? He’d stopped having nightmares about his childhood years ago. Why now? He couldn’t understand it. Sleeping together with you in the same bed should have brought warmth and comfort. Peace. The opposite of what had transpired earlier.

He curled and unfurled his wings repeatedly, his go-to stress reliever. Taking another big gulp of his drink, he tried to clear his mind.

“Babe?” You asked quietly, not wanting to disturb him. “Babe, I’m okay. Look, I’m right here,” you tried to assure him that he didn’t really hurt you. Keigo didn’t respond. Suddenly, he stood up and marched out of the bedroom.

Keigo couldn’t think. He just couldn’t process it. He set his cup down on the kitchen counter, then quickly grabbed his pants, a shirt, and his warm flying jacket. He threw on his goggles and headphones faster than he’d ever done before, pressed a button to open the living room window, and hopped out.

You were still sitting quietly on the bed, hands wrapped around your favorite mug. Tears were trickling down your eyes, but still, you sat in silence. Why couldn’t he open up? Why couldn’t he tell you what was wrong, so you could help him? You didn’t think that you had ever felt so helpless before, the aching in your chest had never been as painful. You missed him. You wanted to hold him, tell him that everything would be okay, but he hadn’t let you.

Setting down your mug on the nightstand, you slid open the drawer. You took out a photo album Keigo had given you for your first anniversary. You flipped through it slowly, each picture reminding you of a happy memory.

The picture that your friend secretly took the first time he took you out on a date.

The two of you visiting the botanical gardens, him carrying you, flying right above the water lily pond.

A picture of him greeting a small fan of his, arms wrapped around the little boy’s body, beaming into the camera.

The time that you went to the animal shelter and adopted a pet kitty.

The picture of you lying back on a picnic blanket in a field of wildflowers, hands behind your head, gazing up at the stars.

You hugged the album close to your chest, convinced that you could help him. You weren’t willing to give up on this relationship, and you knew that he wouldn’t let it go without a fight either. Slowly, grogginess seeped in and you fell asleep, tear tracks staining your cheeks, still cradling the photo album in your arms.

That was how Keigo found you, snoring slightly into your pillow, curled up on your side. He’d flown around the prefecture, music rattling his bones, savoring the cool night air on his face. He circled the theater, the botanical gardens, and the meadows. He’d even flown up a mountain and stood on its peak. Surveying the city laid out before him, he’d realized that in this entire city of 10 million people, the only one he’d formed a true connection with, the only one he could truly call a friend, was you. He’d hurt his only friend, but selfish as it was, he wasn’t willing to let you go.

You woke up to the sound of footsteps by the bed. Blearily, you blinked your eyes, trying to rid your vision of the fuzziness that took over, and stared up at your boyfriend. He had his hands tucked in his pockets, looking wary, yet alive. Gingerly, he sat down beside you on the bed.

“Hey.”

“Hey yourself,” you responded in a sleepy tone.

His gaze shifted towards your neck, where bruises in the shape of his hand littered your skin. He lifted a hand cautiously and gently rubbed your throat with his thumb.

“Does it hurt?” He whispered, looking ashamed of himself. “Please tell me the truth.”

“Only a little,” you begrudgingly admitted, then moved to place your hand on top of his.

He swallowed, clearly upset at his actions.

“You weren’t in control of yourself, Keigo,” you said quietly. “You were having a nightmare. It wasn’t your fault.”

“That’s the problem,” he whispered harshly. “I wasn’t in control of myself. I couldn’t stop myself. What if it happens again? What then, (Y/N)? What if we’re unlucky, and I don’t wake up in time?”

“It won’t happen again,” you reply sternly. “Because you’re going to talk to me about that nightmare you had and we’re going to work through it. If we can’t, then I’ll take you to see a therapist. We’re going to work this out, Keigo.”

He inhaled sharply, then took his other hand and wrapped you in a hug.

“You’re right, babe. We’re going to get through this together,” he murmured, chin resting atop of your head.

You smiled softly against his shoulder, knowing that it was the truth.

Masterlist

269 notes · View notes

ji-lixie · 3 years ago

Note

hey babe just popping in to say ur right seeing chan say that is really concerning not just (especially) for him but for his fans as well. you do not need to diet. You are a beautiful person who deserves to eat. You deserve to eat when youre hungry and when you arent happy with urself and when its a meal time and you deserve a little treat when u feel like it. I love chan but i definitely feel like it can be harmful to talk about dieting in such a way and especially when he has so many people looking to him for inspiration and comfort. I hope hes okay but i also hope you are okay. I know how hard it can be and im so proud of you and i hope you have a nice warm meal that fills you up just right and all you have to think about is the warmth in ur belly and in ur heart. 🥰🥰🥰🤦‍♀️💖❤💜💙

this is really sweet and really means a lot, anon, i hope you know that. it's... very easy for me to get hit with self-loathing about my body, especially when i see other people say those sort of things (as u can tell from this whole thing about chan), or after a doctor's appointment where my health is perfectly fine but seeing certain numbers or words fuck with me despite the fact i'm healthy.

i'm gonna put some more thoughts under a readmore just because i tend to ramble a lot and i don't wanna put a long-ish post on anyone's dash but i have more thoughts here (but if you don't wanna read those, thank you again for your kind words <3 self love is a very long and hard journey and i have in the past and will continue to struggle with in the future. it's just a journey i gotta keep working on, and maybe one day i'll at least be able to appreciate my body for keeping me alive even if i'm not happy with it yet)

[warning for like... talks of potential eating disorders/disordered eating and fatphobia, ig? just tread with caution if any of this bothers u im sorry :( ]

like... i feel like there's always going to be a certain line you have to be careful of when you talk about dieting, btw. i don't think chan meant anything bad by what he said (he's a very genuine person from what i've seen, and there's a reason he has such a comforting presence for a lot of people, me included) and i genuinely hope that he never like... feels bad about that if he ever happens to see how it can impact people? like you said, a lot of people look to him for inspiration and comfort, and i feel safe in saying at least some of those people are going to be people under eighteen. i'm not saying it's impossible to happen to anyone under twenty or even twenty-five, but i think the weird, hard part of being a teenager can make those feelings a lot worse--or even anyone in his audience who has dealt with things like EDs or disordered eating on its own. it can be a very slippery-slope right back into those habits, especially hearing them said by someone you look to for motivation/comfort/etc.

which isn't to say i blame chan at all! from what it sounds like, this is definitely something that was pushed onto him? like, idk, i don't know so this is all speculation, but he did say that both his members (which, btw, not a huge surprise just because of how rampant fatphobia is in this industry: i don't really blame them for having that mindset tbh) and the staff sorta kept pointing out him gaining weight.

which btw... where? chan you gotta show me where baby because i cannot fucking see it at all but that's beside the point. you don't have to visibly have gained weight to feel like you've done it.

i just hate the way he said that he needs to do this 'properly' so much. like this isn't proper. eating a single meal a day and barely anything else isn't proper, and i feel like we can probably guess he'd be working out alongside this alongside the work he's already doing.

idk man i just wanna give him a kiss on the forehead and tell him that it's okay if he wants to lose weight but he should do it for himself and he should do it properly. like i've been there. it sucks. you feel like shit and i can't imagine being busy with everything he's busy with and also not eating enough. like idk im not a bee-tee-ess stan but i've read about the shit that j*min went through considering he passed out during rehearsals from barely eating (and, god, it does make me feel better to see a lot of people citing where he's not doing that anymore: i'm not a stan, but he seems like a sweetheart and i wish the best for him + his group). like, not to focus purely on chan again, but it does make me worry about him more.

how far can it go? how far will it go? i don't want to find out. i just want him and the rest of skz to stay healthy and happy, and something like this is going to stop chan (and felix, from what i've read--he also went on a strict diet at one point...? i'd have to look into it more) from being either.

#hoshranghaes.asks #anon

1 note · View note

wonderlustlucas · 6 years ago

Text

four - hwang hyunjin

⇢ prompt They say good things come in fours. Who? Couldn’t tell you, but they especially do during Christmas. Maybe that’s just Saint Nick. ⇢ pairing hyunjin x female reader ⇢ word count 11.7k ⇢ genre fluff ⇢ warnings swearing. mentions of alcohol & s e x. teenagerz being teenagerz. insane amount of fluff & stupidity. kind of ends w a smutty cliffhanger. ⇢ summary After suppressing how you felt about Hyunjin back in high school, you thought you were done going back on your feelings. Turns out, a little time apart, the spirit of Christmas, and an accidental nap is the perfect cocktail for falling in love with your best friend.—friends to lovers!au ⇢ a/n hello & merry christmas! here is a gift for you all on this very merry day. also, thank you for 1,000 followers! that in itself is one of the best presents i could ask for. thank you for all your kindness & support on my blog & for following me in the first place! it truly means so much to me. i hope you enjoy reading! ♥︎

big tiddy jinny🍯🧸🌟🖇[now] Sorry! I just woke up

big tiddy jinny🍯🧸🌟🖇[now] Whats wrong fool

big tiddy jinny🍯🧸🌟🖇[now] Did u rlly think 12 texts were gonna wake me up?🤦🏻‍♂️ godt damn u on some WACK shit

You roll your eyes in time with each consecutive text that Hyunjin sends, waiting for the lock screen of your phone to blacken after reading them. He’s about as useless as pedals on a wheelchair, you think, ignoring the texts and forcing the device into the snug back pocket of your jeans before transferring the last two excessively packed grocery bags into the trunk of your car with an exhausted huff. Christ, if the bagging lady put one more item in those bags, she would be the one to blame for six cans of soup rolling about the parking lot.

The license plate rattles when you slam the trunk lid closed before hurrying around to the driver’s side and anxiously hopping inside to start blasting the heat. It is obnoxiously chilly for the first of September. Well, not really. Your body is just beginning to get used to the ungodly wrath of summer’s sweltering heat leaving you in a constant state of sweat and nausea for the past three months. Not that you’re complaining, of course. You nearly did somersaults of joy when the morning news reported a temperature of sixty-one degrees with some wind gusts and welcomed the beginning signs of autumn with open arms.

You would never admit to Mom who told yo uon the way out to change out of a tank top or at least wear a jacket, but yes— you are, in fact, cold. But now you have godsent warmth blowing from the vents and the seat warmer on its highest setting beginning to thaw away the goosebumps painted on your skin. Giving your arms one last rub, you lean up enough to retrieve your phone and open the conversation with Hyunjin.

[2:37 PM] YN: please. smell my balls

[2:37 PM] YN: nothings wrong btw. i was GOING to ask if u wanted any specific snacks for tn buttttt someone didn’t answer

[2:37 PM] YN: and excuse u i called too. i may be an idiot but im not stupid

[2:38 PM] YN: ik u would never hear a text when ur having wet dreams of yeji

You stop there with a smug smirk when the three dots on his side appear, knowing you’ve hit his funny bone with this one.

[2:38 PM] big tiddy jinny🍯🧸🌟🖇: Bruh

[2:38 PM] big tiddy jinny🍯🧸🌟🖇 :I’ve literally never have had a wet dream ab Yeji pls stop

You cannot fight your shit-eating grin, thumbs circling over the keyboard in thought as he apparently deletes whatever other text he was going to send when the three dots disappear.

[2:38 PM] YN: mmhmmmm

[2:38 PM] YN: because last time you slept over you weren’t whimpering her name in ur sleep

[2:38 PM] YN: sureeeee

You decide to end your teasing there and continue once you’re home. It is starting to get late, after all, and Mom will begin to worry that the creepy employee always in aisle sixteen has abducted you. Plus, you’re cruel and like to watch Hyunjin suffer. Switching the ringer off, you throw your phone into the cupholder and drastically lower the heat and turn off the seat warmer. It’s starting to feel like a sauna in here, and not in a fun way. Can’t understand how anyone enjoys hanging out in a sauna to begin with anyway, but to each their own, you guess.

In the five-minute drive it takes until you are pulling into the driveway, Hyunjin calls three times. He is incredibly peeved at your lack of a response to his distressed texts and still wound up from your text about Yeji. As if! You’re already a clown not realizing his ever-growing affections for you, but to think he had a crush on Yeji? You’re the whole damn circus!

By the time he calls a fifth time, now sat up on his elbow in bed and strumming an annoyed beat of his fingers at his thigh because he really just wants to yell at you for being the most annoying person alive (and maybe to hear your voice, too), you have brought in the last of the bags and look to Mom who has started to put the groceries away and expects you to half-heartedly do the same.

“It’s Hyunjin. He’s having an existential crisis because I haven’t answered his texts,” you explain to her, unenthusiastically holding your phone as it vibrates against your palm. Half of you wants her to ask to finish putting everything away first just so you can torture him even longer. Alas, such extravagant wishes are denied, because when it comes to Hyunjin, your parents would undoubtedly throw you under the bus just to keep that boy happy. And so, just like any other time, Mom’s undying love for Hyunjin has her dismissing you from the kitchen with a hearty laugh.

“Jesus Christ! What?” You hiss, halfway up the stairs when you tap to answer his call on the last ring.

“Wow! Look who finally decided to answer!” Hyunjin shouts back, the swoosh of his sheets once he finally falls back against his pillow again rustling all too loudly through the phone. “I was driving,” you spit, marching into your bedroom and collapsing against your bed, the same rustle of your blankets sounding loudly into his ear. “There’s a thing called the speaker, ___. Ever heard of it?” He retorts, evidently shutting you up and he knows he won this round if your silence is anything to go by.

“Whatever,” you groan, using all your toe strength to kick the sneakers off your feet by their soles, “what was so important that you couldn’t wait and had to call me five billion times?”

“I had a question. And you hurt my feelings.” Well, shit. You can practically hear and see his pout through the phone and your heart positively swells in your chest at how undeniably, unjustifiably cute he is. You sigh.

“I’m sorry for making fun of you about Yeji. I’m going to do it again but next time I promise I won’t pull the wet dream card,” you apologize frankly; because, in all honesty, it would be worse to say you are not going to do it again when you most certainly will. Bullying Hyunjin is fun, what can you say?

Hyunjin heaves an exasperated breath from his lungs because he knows there is no point in arguing with quite possibly the most sarcastic human he knows and that’s the best form of an apology he’s going to get. Whatever. He’ll make sure to wipe his morning snot and droll on your shirt in the morning. “Anyway,” he grumbles, in the background you hear Kkami bark from a few rooms over, “I was going to ask if you wanted to come over my place instead? I know your parents probably want to see me and stuff but mine are out of town for the night so we can sleep in my bed until like three without Mom waking us up to force feed breakfast.” You roll your eyes. Of course your parents want to see him.

“Plus, Mom just put that grey comforter I know you really like on my bed so we can cuddle all night and watch stuff on YouTube,” he quickly adds as a convincing afterthought. He’s really got his sales pitch going on this one. Truth is, you have only slept in his bed with that stupidly soft blanket twice last winter break, but it’s still sweet that he remembers how much you loved it (aka how quickly you fell asleep and how grumpy you were being woken up because it’s just that darn cozy). Either way, you would never pass up an opportunity to snuggle up with Hyunjin in the comfort of his own bed with his citrusy, floral scent on the pillows luring you to sleep.

“My Mom is going to be heartbroken, Hyunjin,” you tease, “but who cares. You had me sold at sleeping until three. Do you still want me to bring the snacks I got?”

“Oh, thank God. I love your Mom’s cooking but I haven’t left bed all day and I really want to keep it that way. And yes, please. I’ve been eating dry cereal for the past two hours.”

“Hyunjin, have you brushed your teeth yet?”

“No. Didn’t you just hear me? I said I’ve been in bed all day. Eating cereal. When would I have brushed my teeth?”

“You’ve officially taken breakfast in bed to a whole new level, Jin. I’ll see you in a few hours. Oh, and please, you have no concept of personal space so make sure you brush your teeth before I come over.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Love ya, bye,” Hyunjin promptly hangs up, probably eager to get back to binging whatever drama he’s watching before you lecture him about his hygiene again. Not that it matters, anyway; chances are, it went in one ear and right out the other and you’re going to drag him out of bed later to brush his teeth.

Damn. You didn’t even get the chance to say love you back. Not that it matters.

It doesn’t, you quickly shut down the pesky thought that keeps you up at night and force it back into the storage part of your brain labeled ‘Deal with Later,’ because, really, you’ll have to think about that later. It’s not that you don’t want to think about it yet… you just don’t have the time to stop and really figure out what your feelings toward Hyunjin actually are. Yeah. That’s it.

And now isn’t the time, you tell yourself, scooting up the mattress in order to bury your face in the pillows to suffocate the pounding throb in your head. Hyunjin is nothing special.

Well, no. That’s a lie. Everything about Hyunjin is special. Anyone with eyes, ears, even a nose can sense that. You had quickly found out just how wonderful he is when you met him freshman year of high school. At the time, he was everyone’s sweetheart by the first day, but it just so happened his eyes were all on you.

He was obviously adorable, and every class you had together he always made a point to talk to you and returned your sarcasm with an impressive level of expertise. So, when it came to him asking you to the first homecoming, the answer was yes without a second thought. But during the last slow dance of the night, with his hands gently holding your waist, he at last listened to his conscience and revealed that as much as he liked you, he truly did not want to date in high school. Or right then, at least. And honestly, you were glad; Hyunjin was quite possibly your favorite person you had met thus far, and you would have rather kept him as a friend than commit to a relationship the second month of school and risk losing him later down the road.

And boy, keep him as a friend you did. As it turned out, Hyunjin grew to be your truest, best friend in high school. Sure, you each had your own friend groups, but the two of you were the iconic pair everybody knew. But strictly platonic, despite the rumors and wishes that went around for the next four years. You like to think that neither of you ever developed feelings past what everyone feels toward their best friend— an innocent, wholesome sort of love.

But when had things changed? Hormones, as always, were definitely a big part of it. Hyunjin was always a cutie, but it wasn’t until he grew into his own skin and developed a newfound confidence did you start to see him differently. Until everyone saw him differently. Neither of you missed the way people stared him down, pupils dilating every time he ran his fingers through the black tufts of his hair, hearts aching for some sort of interaction. Or when you started attending parties, groups of girls would fling themselves at him in a blundering disarray, most of which he would turn down with a gentle dismissal that flew over their heads, too drunk to actually care.

But then there were times his dick made the decision for him, desperation and deprivation weighing in on him and you’d watch with a tight jaw as he’d leave the room with the pretty girl of the night skipping after him. You never realized it was only on those nights did you wind up in the back seat of Han Jisung’s car.

But even after the physical attraction sizzled out over time, things were not the same. Hyunjin wasn’t your hidden little treasure anymore. All eyes were set on him and it took more than a glass of water to swallow your jealousy. But why? Why were you so resentful all of a sudden?

It’s hard to share Hwang Hyunjin, you decided. Once established that you were his main hoe and he was yours, it became a significant burden watching others try and get in between. Not that they did it with a malicious attempt to separate you, but it still hurt. You’re selfish, and you admit it— Hyunjin, quite frankly, is the love of your life. Romantic or not, nothing could change your feelings toward him. It goes beyond his unfathomable beauty and spunky personality. Everything about him from his nose to his hands, to his distaste for onions and the way his face scrunches up when he lets out that giggle of his and even to the way he prefers to sleep against the wall but will force you to when you’re over so he can “protect you in case there’s a monster” all mount into this big, giant section of your heart set aside for Hyunjin.

So despite your efforts to ignore the pang of jealousy each time he would find a potential someone or the joy whenever he’d find his way back because “they kept wanting to hang out in the morning even though I said I don’t wake up before noon,” this Hyunjin-shaped hole in your heart seems to only grow the longer you ignore it. Kind of like every medical condition out there: the longer you ignore it, the worse it gets. So, basically Hyunjin is your heart disease.

Yikes. Sounds a lot worse when you try putting it into words.

Well, he won’t be your heart defect for long if he keeps ruining those pearly whites of his by only brushing once just before bed, you chuckle to yourself, rolling to your side at the sudden lack of oxygen between your face and the pillow. There’s a fleeting moment without thought when you unconsciously reach for your phone to check for any notifications before the fattest revelation of them all falls from the ceiling and smacks you right upside the face.

Shit. Looks like you’ve gone right ahead and totally dissected each and every fiber of your feelings for Hyunjin.

Blinking up at the ceiling, the weight of your emotions isn’t as heavy as you expected them to be. Instead, it’s more of a breath of fresh air, as if you have finally accepted the way things fell instead of ignoring them. Your feelings for Hyunjin have always been there. It just took a little effort to get them out.

Nevertheless, it is going to be difficult hanging out with him in a few hours with your exposed emotions still needing to be processed. Especially when he will pull you to his side and keep you nestled there the entire night. Rubbing your temples, you realize it will take some serious self-control to put everything on the back burner and just enjoy the time spent with Hyunjin.

Sighing, you check the time on your phone again. 3:21 and a text from Hyunjin asking if you could bring green tea.

“Mom!” You yell, defeated. “You were right!”

You used to think Hyunjin lived far away. Truthfully, he’s only fifteen minutes away if you go ten over the speed limit. But the only way to get to his house entails driving through the chaos of the mall and town center, which adds an extra ten minutes sitting through traffic no matter the time of day.

Now, Hyunjin’s college campus is two hours away. Well, technically five from you, since you’re almost three hours away in the opposite direction. So you’re lucky if you get to see him once a month with how hectic school becomes and how difficult it is trying to plan to come home the same weekend. Fortunately, it has worked out this semester. And while you should spend this time with your families, they know how much you crave one another’s company as the weeks drag on. The twenty-two minutes it takes getting to each other’s homes is totally worth it.

You expect Hyunjin to tell you to use the key hidden underneath the resin meditating frog statue in the front garden to unlock the front door when you text him you have arrived, but to your utmost surprise, he’s there, awake, to open the door for you.

“Stinky!” You yell, dropping your things on the floor to burry yourself in his embrace, standing on your tippy toes to wrap your arms around his neck in order to really get the full experience of hugging your favorite giant. “Poopy!” He shouts in return, long arms winding tightly around your waist and even going so far as to lift you up a few inches. God. Hate when he does that.

“Why are you up? I thought I’d have to let myself in with you sleeping all your problems away,” you ask, smiling gratefully when he bends down to pick up your bag. “I realized Kkami hadn’t been out all day, so I came down to let him out and find actual food,” Hyunjin explains as he makes way into the kitchen, opening the back door to let said dog back inside. “Aw, poor thing,” you pout, squatting to scratch at Kkami’s neck when he zooms faster than the speed of light to you, “does that mean you brushed your teeth?”

“I did, actually,” Hyunjin snorts right back, scrunching his nose at you before turning away to open the fridge. Sitting on the floor with Kkami in your lap, you take the opportunity to finally get a good look at Hyunjin now that he’s distracted. And of course, he looks good. Really good. Last time you saw him he still was a brunette, a look he rocked during the spring and summer months. This is the first time you’ve seen the freshly dyed black hair in person. Even though he always looks handsome, something about Hyunjin with black hair completely changes his aura. Brings back memories of how badly you wanted him in high school. You shiver at the thought.

And, to top it all off, how he manages to stay in such disgustingly good shape despite his atrocious eating habits never ceases to amaze you. Like, come on. The boy eats worse than a raccoon seven days out of the week, lives off boba, works out maybe five times a month, dances in his free time and still keeps his body in tiptop shape. God, you hate him. His pediatrician probably hates him, too. You even go as far as to sniff the fries in your dining hall and you gain five pounds.

Even now, he looks unnecessarily regal in the baggy material of his sweatpants and flannel. And the warmth of his kitchen’s ambient lighting does nothing to suppress the heavy thumping of your heart. So casual is his dress, yet how immaculate he looks rummaging the cabinets for a snack.

“Are you hungry?” He asks, the familiar softness of his voice shaking you from your daze as he closes the refrigerator door after his unsuccessful search. Here’s the thing: you really aren’t hungry, but Hyunjin clearly is, so if you say no then all he will be thinking about is food until you decide that you are hungry. “Yeah,” is what you say, nudging Kkami off your crossed legs to stand, “I brought green tea and a few snacks, but we could order Chinese food or something. The place near Dunkin’ and the gas station makes bubble tea now, too.”

Hyunjin’s brows shoot up, flashing his boxy smile. “Is it good?”

“I mean, I’ve only had their pork dumplings and mango tea before, and it was pretty good. I don’t know about their noodles or anything, though,” you shrug, moving to stand beside him at the kitchen island. Distracted by Kkami trying to jump onto the sofa in the living room, you don’t look to Hyunjin until the poor dog is successful in doing so. Startled to find him already gazing down at you, your heart truly is not prepared for him to go right ahead and wrap his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder. Totally not freaking out or trying to overthink his need to constantly cling, you justify his actions by quickly recalling the time he said, “My head is too godtdamn big for my godtdamn body.” More like his head is too heavy because instead of a brain it’s just a chunk of cement up there. He just needs to rest his head sometimes.

Yeah.

“Mm, I don’t know,” Hyunjin hums, swaying your body with his to an unheard tune. By now, any coherent thought has dissipated into thin air and all you can do is melt against him. “Why?” You manage.

“’Cus if we order anything that means I’ll have to get up and get it.”

“Oh my God, Hyunjin, really?” You laugh. Your hands naturally glide to where his are linked at your stomach, pressing to interlock your fingers overtop his. “If that’s the only reason for your uncertainty than I could always come get it, idiot.”

“No! It’s okay,” Hyunjin says, jumping back before you can even process it, “I’m not that hungry anyway.”

“Ohhh ‘kay,” you laugh breathlessly, whiplashed by the whole thing. Good thing you aren’t hungry, because when was the last time Hyunjin turned down food? Blinking at him precariously, he doesn’t seem to notice until one too many seconds of silence pass by.

“C’mon,” he demands excitedly, jumping back into reality, “my roommate told me to watch this anime called Soul Eater but I wanted to watch it with you.” Once again, before anything can even register past every single That Was Cute™ alarm ringing in your brain, Hyunjin is grabbing your bag and reaching for your hand, leading you out of the kitchen and upstairs.

You and Hyunjin binge aforementioned anime until he falls asleep first around 2 AM, only stopping to order food an hour in (he’s an indecisive man indeed), to get up to retrieve it, and to actually eat while catching up. For most of the night, you are able to forget the way his heartbeat against your back mirrored your own in the kitchen. But then, a little while after you fall asleep yourself, Hyunjin unconsciously shifts closer and you spend another hour blinking at his relaxed hand twitching against your abdomen, trying to keep the hurricane inside your heart at bay.

You can’t make it home October. Hyunjin texted you to let you know he was going to be the third weekend in, and you tried desperately to manage your time in order to make it work. But one group project in chem lead to another paper in psych and before you knew it, your roommate was listening to you sob over a boy and curse out your classes.

September left you emotionally wrecked, to be totally honest. You hate Hyunjin and you hate the way he makes you feel and you especially hate how realizing you have a crush on him makes you unsure if everything he does is his way of hinting he feels the same or if he’s always been this touchy and you are just now recognizing it. So, missing a month of seeing your favorite human being essentially means missing another day of trying to decipher which actions of his go in the Friend list, and which go in the Questionable list. And that, my friend, is unacceptable.

You absolutely cannot not go home this month. November is the calm before the storm (the storm being exams looming the second week of December), and while it would be beneficial maybe staying on campus to continue preparing, you tell yourself going home will be just as helpful. Mental breaks, and stuff. Totally not just to see Hyunjin.

Either way, Hyunjin asks you if you would join him on the seventeenth to go to his second cousin’s christening and you absolutely cannot say no when you know how bored Hyunjin gets at family events when they aren’t for him. And so, fast forward to the third Sunday of November and you are ready to pass out ten minutes after entering the church.

“I’m so happy for you two! I always knew you would last into college,” one of Hyunjin’s aunts exclaims, pinching your cheeks but the only pinch you feel is that of your heart.

Clearly she is misinformed, or just prone to jumping to conclusions but yet again, you can’t really blame her with how couple-y you and Hyunjin are. Past the single tunnel vision of your gaze, you watch her smile falter when Hyunjin goes rigid beside you and oh my God this is the most embarrassing moment of my life, his whole family thinks we’re dating and here we are still stuck in each other’s friendz—

“I’m glad you think so, imo,” Hyunjin suddenly picks up, sneaking an arm around to rest his hand on your hip, tugging you close, “I don’t know what I’ll do if she ever decides to leave me.”

It’s nice to think that he means it, to imagine that you are here not as a tag-along but to join him in a family ceremony because you are part of the family. The thought turns your blood to sugar and everything surrounding you falls apart; you listen to the rest of their conversation without processing it, the precise detailing in the marble pillars blurs into a mass of white, and you still feel his strong hold on the curve of your waist yet you are lost in the swam of possibilities.

How lovely it would be to live up to her assumption. To ‘last into college’ as a couple, not as best friends. To be able to call him yours even when you’re not together, to come home and kiss his lips, to sleep in his bed and it mean more than the laziness of blowing up the air mattress. At some point, he leads you into the third pew to sit beside his parents, and when you greet them with a hug all you can think about is them viewing you as more than their son’s friend.

God, you hate it.

You’re not as religious as Hyunjin and his family. But for the first time in years, you find yourself looking to the crucifix during the service and praying to whoever is up there to give you some strength and patience, because Lord do you need it.

Hyunjin is a funny guy.

Or so he thinks.

It’s not that he isn’t funny. It’s just— compared to your friends Minho or Changbin, he isn’t at the top of the list. When you think of Hyunjin, the first words that pop up are soft, loud, and dramatic.

It’s not that he isn’t funny. He’s just weird.

Insanely, ridiculously weird. For example, the time he called Jeongin a vitamin. Or the time he slapped half a bottle of sunscreen on his face. Or his random bouts of dancing at inappropriate moments. Just to name a few.

After the Baptism, Hyunjin acted like nothing happened. Didn’t even bring it up. Not even a joke. After the ceremony, you joined his family for a luncheon, which just involved the two of you being weird and making peculiar dancing videos on SnapChat with the swirly filter and complaining about school for a few hours until he drove you home. Obviously you stopped for food again on the way.

But that was it. Things went on as normal, and you returned to campus later that night and forced the whole experience to the back of your brain. It was officially grind season, and grind season meant studying for exams. No parties. No boys. And certainly no Hyunjin.

You both were home for winter break in the blink of an eye. And in normal Hyunjin style, he sort of vanished for the first week. Probably catching up on his strict sleeping schedule, you presumed, and accepted the fact that it was going to be a few days before you saw or even heard from him. The only anticipation you felt was wanting to give him his Christmas gift.

After what seems like an eternity away from Hyunjin, you get out of the shower on this fine Saturday before Christmas to find a slew of texts from him.

[5:52 PM] big tiddy jinny🍯🧸🌟🖇: Aloha mamacita

[5:52 PM] big tiddy jinny🍯🧸🌟🖇: How do u feel about getting froyo tn

[5:52 PM] big tiddy jinny🍯🧸🌟🖇: We can get fat and then u can sleepover aaaand

[5:52 PM] big tiddy jinny🍯🧸🌟🖇: We can stare at the wall for a few hours

[5:52 PM] big tiddy jinny🍯🧸🌟🖇: And

[5:53 PM] big tiddy jinny🍯🧸🌟🖇: *cough*

[5:53 PM] big tiddy jinny🍯🧸🌟🖇: Exchange Jesus gifts

See? Weird. Who wants froyo when it’s thirty degrees out?

[5:53 PM] YN: “aloha mamacita”

[5:53 PM] YN: uHmmmMMM

[5:53 PM] YN: im down mr president

[5:54 PM] YN: why do u want ice cream in winter tho. don’t u want like

[5:54 PM] YN: hot chocolate or seomthing

Obviously not. Two hours later, Hyunjin arrives to pick you up for froyo despite all your efforts in convincing him maybe you could take the train to the city and watch a light show, or simply drive around and swoon over the rich people houses and their Christmas decorations. He didn’t budge. This leads you to your second question of the day: why is it that when you threw on sweats for the occasion you called yourself a hag, but upon entering Hyunjin’s car you make a mental note of how hot he looks when he’s wearing the same exact thing? You groan at the thought. It’s because it’s Hyunjin, of course.

“Bonjour, mademoiselle,” he greets, flicking your forehead once you settle into the seat of his Subaru WRX because he’s a hotshot and likes to flex that he can drive a manual. Not really— the car is absolute garbage by now, having been his Dad’s old car (his Dad likes to flex too, apparently). However, Hyunjin takes care of it enough for it to seem five years old instead of ten, and, either way, watching him work the stick shift is unexplainably hot.

You swat his hand away. “Drive, bitch,” you huff, twisting to buckle yourself in. Once he’s reversed out of your driveway, you glance back to find him fighting against a devilish smirk.

“So,” you start once he has navigated out of your neighborhood. His brow twitches up. “Are you taking Hawaiian and French at school? You’ve been throwing quite a lot of languages at me recently.” Hyunjin shoots you an unamused look. You return it with a wrinkle of your nose.

“Anyway,” he ignores your teasing, pausing to switch gears for whatever reason so he can make it through a yellow light, “how did your exams go?”

“Well, you know…” You trail off, looking to your window. It feels a lot later than eight o’clock. With it getting dark so early in the evening nowadays, it feels as if nighttime is always following you.

“You know… what?” Hyunjin interrupts your daze, concern laced in his voice. “They were fine. I passed everything, I’m just worried about my major,” you explain sadly, barely glancing at him before you are turning back to the window to stare at the moon. Must be nice being a moon. Just get to hang out in the sky watching everyone and being watched.

“I mean, if you want to switch, now’s the time. Better do it now before the second semester,” Hyunjin advises, wise as always. Not really, but he’s right. “What are you thinking of going into?”

Yikes. He’s going to kill you.

“Nursing,” you blurt.

“Oh my Lanta, ___, are you serious?” He groans, stopping at a convenient red light presenting the perfect opportunity for him to smack his forehead on the wheel. Dramatic. “How are you gonna manage that? You’ll practically be two years behind everyone else!”

“I know,” you sigh, throwing your head back on the headrest, “that’s the problem. Bio just isn’t doing it for me. I don’t think I can spend the rest of my life in a lab watching mitosis. I need something more rewarding, so theoretically nursing is a perfect start. I don’t know, though.”

“Why don’t you switch to interior design or something? We could get our own HGTV show, ___,” he says, but you don’t meet his gaze when he glances over because beneath his words, you can sense some serious hopefulness. Interior design would be cool, but you’ve never considered that as a career choice. You once helped your parents pick out everything when they redid a bathroom at home and that turned out great, but as a major?

“I don’t know, man. I’ll have to talk to my counselor about it, I guess,” you shrug, pulling the hood of your sweatshirt over your head and tightening the drawstrings until the material covers your eyes, “why can’t you audition to be a K-pop star or something? I could be your manager. Heck, even your makeup artist. I’ve done your makeup before, remember?”

Hyunjin laughs, loud, and the sound sinks deep into your heart and makes you feel warm all over. Stress? Gone.

For the next few minutes or so, the ride is comfortably quiet. At some point, he turns on the radio and Mariah Carey’s “All I Want For Christmas Is You” floods your brain and reminds you to look forward to exchanging Christmas gifts later. God, you hope he likes it. You really went out on the sentimental gifts this year.

Hood shielding your vision, you jump when his large hand suddenly comes to grab the top of your head, squeezing hard and you imagine he’s trying to press some hopefulness into your brain. “Hand on the penis stick, Hwang,” you bark, blindly reaching for his own head across the way and pulling his ear when you do so. Good Lord, you hope no one can see into the car because… what.

Hyunjin lets out a giggle this time, reaching to pull you into a headlock and even though he’s got your head shoved up against his sturdy chest and goes on to give you a noogie, you’re stuck being all high and loopy on the sound of his happiness. And hey, it’s nice to know you’re the cause of it.

“We’re literally parked, idiot. If you had your hood down you would’ve realized,” Hyunjin snickers, releasing you after watching you struggle for a few seconds. Jerking away from him, you swiftly pull back your hood. “Oh,” you laugh, reading the flashy Yogo Factory sign above the building in front of you, “you could’ve just told me instead of watching me bask in misery.”

Hyunjin suitably ignores your moaning and groaning by getting out of the car and standing in front of the car, illuminated by the headlights. Why? Why must he look so scrumptious in his black hoodie and grey sweatpants and four-year-old white Nike sneakers? He has no gosh darn right!

After fixing the mess he made of your hair, you at last join him outside the car, shooting him another glare and moving ahead of him to open the shop’s door without waiting for him. “From now on, we have to start texting each other what we’re wearing before we go out, ‘cus this looks a little ri-donk-ulous,” Hyunjin whispers in your ear as you make your way to the cup selection, trying to ignore all the stares you— no, he is getting along the way.

“What do you mean?” You ask, plucking two medium sized cups up before turning to look at him. Then you look down at yourself. Oh. Looks like you’re both wearing the hoodie from junior spirit week. “Nice.” Just Couple Things™!

Back to Hyunjin being weird— why did he drag you all the way out here just to get a cup of chocolate frozen yogurt and maybe half a scoop of peanut butter chips?

Meanwhile, he watches in absolute disgust as you blow through your own dessert. Vanilla yogurt with probably every topping offered because you physically cannot make a decision, especially when they have chunks of cookie dough up there.

“So,” Hyunjin starts, trying not to look you in the eye considering you look like a goblin shoveling globs of diabetes down your throat, “have you talked to Jisung recently?”

You choke on a Fruity Pebble at his inquiry, prompting him to reach across the table and slap your back a few times until your esophagus is cleared. “Ugh,” clearing your throat one last time, you take a few sips of water while shooting him a glare. Jisung? Really? “How dense are you?” You hiss unintentionally.

Hyunjin raises his hands in defense. “Just a question.”

Yeah, just a question. Dumbass. “I mean,” you laugh awkwardly, “not really. We have a streak on Snap and sometimes we’ll talk occasionally but I don’t text him every day or anything. How about you?”

He shrugs, concentrating instead on stirring his yogurt into a goopy mess. “Eh. We still use our group chat a lot but that’s it. He’s too busy making music in Malaysia.”

You chuckle at this, picking out the boba from your own cup and leaving the rest now that it has started to look like something sold at the Chum Bucket. “That sucks,” you offer, not the best at giving him consolidation, you opt for linking your feet around his own in some weird act of intimacy, “isn’t he coming home for the holidays, though? I’m sure you can all have a reunion soon.”

“Yeah, he is,” Hyunjin hums, suddenly too focused on trying to escape your trap under the table. Annoyed Hyunjin is cute. “Stoooop,” he whines, kicking at your shins before breaking into boisterous laughter at your relentlessness, “I will not hesitate to throw this cup at your face.”

“Yeah, right,” you scoff, “I’d like to see you try.”

At this, Hyunjin drops his stupidly long arms beneath the table and easily captures your foot by the ankle, pulling hard enough for you to slip down your side of the booth. “Hyunjin!” You shriek, panicking slightly at your sweaty hand’s insecure grip against the leather. You’re going to fall. You’re going to fall flat on your ass underneath a table at a frozen yogurt place because the boy you like pulled your foot too hard. Fantastic. Ignoring you, he starts to wiggle your shoe off your foot no matter how hard you try to squirm out of his relentless grip. “Stop trying to eat my toes in the middle of Yogo!”

Finally, he releases your foot, letting it fall limp against his thigh.

“God,” you huff, breathless as you squirm back up your seat, cheeks burning ferociously, “you are such an ass.”

Behind the playful smirk he fails to hide, something darker glints in Hyunjin’s eyes and it makes your heart skip a beat. Then, “We should go.” The suggestion makes the heat of your blush scorch even hotter down your neck and you instinctively turn away, only to find the customers on the other side of the shop watching you with just as perturbed looks. Fantastic, part two.

“Okie,” you squeak out, blinking after him in complete and total bewilderment as to what just happened when he gets up to throw his trash away. Whatever. Following after him, you too toss your cup out before quickly finding your hand engulfed by his larger one as he leads you back outside, the sudden sharpness of the cold air bringing tears to your eyes. You desperately want to ask him what that was about, or why he’s acting so sneaky, but you stay silent, too afraid your voice will come out shaky and vulnerable. Instead, you let him tug you into his side and try to keep up with him no matter how badly your knees threaten to buckle with each glance you sneak up at him.

It’s silent when you enter the car, watching warily as he reverses out of the parking spot and maneuvers through the lot. Your heart rate seemingly cannot slow itself down, adrenaline taking the place of oxygen the longer you stare at him, at the concentrated scrunch to his face, at the cute tip of his button nose and at the swell of his lips and you distantly wonder what would happen if you pulled him into a kiss at the next red light.

In the midst of your daydream Hyunjin clears his throat, bringing you back to reality and you realize with a startle that he has caught you. Jesus Christ! What has gotten into you? You mentally smack yourself upside the head, instantly turning away from his cocky little gaze and staring straight ahead in search of something else to focus on. “___,” he sing-songs, slow and sensual and entirely demolishing the walls you have built around yourself. It is at this red light you wish to simply open the door and run.

“Yes?” You manage, wincing at how small your voice sounds and while looking out his window instead of into his eyes, you notice him grip the steering wheel hard enough to turn his knuckles white. The tension is insurmountable, weighing in heavily on your chest and you desperately wish to arrive home, even though that means having to survive the next twelve hours with him. Anything is better than the small confines of his car.

“What do you want to do when we get home?” He asks, cool as a cucumber. You pale. It is a dangerous question and you do not know if he realizes that. “Um,” you cough, scooting to sit up straight, “whatever you want.” You whisper the last part, genuinely petrified because you have absolutely no idea if your brain is twisting everything to make it seem like Hyunjin is flirting or if things are totally normal. No idea.

“Hm,” he offers, tilting his head in thought, “we shall see.”

Yeah. We shall.

The rest of the ride is quiet, comfortably or uncomfortably you cannot say because you are too busy trying to calm the Spongebob burning office scene occurring inside your own head, hopelessly telling yourself that everything is fine, Hyunjin’s fine, you’re fine. Just pretend like nothing happened, you tell yourself when Hyunjin pulls into his driveway with practiced ease. “Ugh,” he groans after retrieving your bag from the back seat, and you watch with a raised brow as he skips up to his porch, yelling, “I have to pee!”

“Begone with you, piss boy,” you tease, holding the screen door open for him as he struggles to unlock the storm door and pulling on one of his hoodie’s drawstrings just to annoy him. “Stop,” he growls, low and playful but nevertheless sending a swarm of butterflies to your tummy. You ignore him. Finally unlocking the door, Hyunjin shoves the keys into his pocket and seizes your wrist, yanking your arm down with enough force to nearly topple you into him. “Why are you being so annoying tonight?” He frowns at you, nose and brows scrunched in irritation and it is only because of his proximity do you finally soften up.

“Sorry,” you pout back, bringing your other hand up to boop his nose, “I just missed ya.”

“Ew,” he snorts, stepping past the threshold and kicking off his shoes. You follow suit, closing the door behind you and clicking the lock into place as Kkami comes sprinting over. “B-R-B,” Hyunjin announces, presumably bouncing away to the bathroom.

“Oh, boy,” you huff, squatting to pick up the fluffy little dog and hugging him close to your chest, “your dad is making my life very difficult.” Pressing a quick kiss to the top of his head, you put Kkami back down and grab your bag before heading upstairs, knowing Hyunjin is going to take his grand old time and probably take a shit while he’s at it. Plus, you’re impatient and dying to take your bra off.

Aside from what light his Gudetama nightlight offers, Hyunjin’s room is ultimately left dark. Here’s the thing: he used to have a lamp on his dresser, but then he took it with him to college and only brings it home for summer because he’s lazy and sleeps the majority of the time he’s home, anyway. Instead, he put up his little remote-controlled Christmas tree in addition to the lava lamp he has beside his bed. Perfect. For Hyunjin, at least.

Switching both of these on, their subtle glow offers just enough to keep you from banging your toe against something. It’s happened one too many times. Hyunjin’s room isn’t messy— he really isn’t a messy person to begin with, but he will reorganize the furniture in his room fifty times a year and you never know where the crooked leg to his bedside table will be to ambush your pinky toe.

Setting your bag onto his bed, you excitedly fumble past all your layers and unclasp your bra, maneuvering out of it with a delighted exhale just as Hyunjin begins his ascent up the stairs, steps creaking loudly under his heavy trudging. “I’m an idiot,” he grumbles, leaning against the doorframe to catch his breath.

You don’t bother to look at him, opting to quickly retort instead, “We been knew.”

“Ugh,” Hyunjin groans, exasperated, and you finally turn to him after successfully jamming aforementioned undergarment into your bag, “anyways. I don’t know why I didn’t just come up here, because I have to wash my face anyway and you do too and now we’re both going to have to share a sink.”

“Aw,” you coo, tone dripping with sarcasm as you pat his arm, “poor baby has to share the bathroom.”

“I’m actually going to strangle you,” he sighs, nevertheless following after you into the bathroom.

“Kinky.”

Hyunjin glares, unamused as he opens a drawer for his pink bow hairband and your striped pink and blue one that he bought for you, but keeps here for sleepovers. Yeah. He throws it to your face. “Sorry,” you offer, pulling the soft headband up to hold your hair back, “I’ll try to stop. I’m just so used to annoying you.”

“Clearly,” he scoffs, flashing his stupidly cute teasing smile and in your head, you imagine raising a white flag in surrender— he’s got you, he’s won, it’s over. Time to call it quits and head home. Evidently shut up (for now), you offer him a roll of your eyes before turning on the sink to wet your hands before pumping out some of his scrumptious watermelon face wash. Maybe if you scrub hard enough, you’ll manage to rinse away all the overwhelming thoughts of the night, too.

Barefaced Hyunjin is immaculate. Well, Hyunjin is immaculate twenty-four hours out of the day, but barefaced, freshly washed, hair messy, ready for bed Hyunjin is immaculate, and you are one of the few people lucky enough to see this eighth wonder of the world as often as you do.

Now, maybe it has something to do with the unexpected ambiance the light from his laptop, Christmas lights, and lava lamp have created together that makes him look so unfairly beautiful at this given moment. Or, you’re just insanely pussywhipped and looking for an excuse. You try not to think about it.

“Why are you so squirmy tonight?” He asks, frustrated enough to interrupt Kermit singing ‘Shawty I don’t mind’ playing from his laptop. “I’m not,” you defend, a weak argument indeed, given that you have just finished adjusting your position beside him for the umpteenth time.

“I mean, four female Ghostbusters? The feminists are taking over! I’m an ad—”

“___, you’ve touched my dick like four times. Don’t try and tell me you’re not squirmy. What’s wrong?” Hyunjin interrupts a second Vine, and even goes on to talk over ‘I have the power of God and anime on my side!’ like a lunatic. Oh Christ, you have? Surely you would have noticed. “Sorry,” you mumble, embarrassed as you bury your face into the curve of his pectoral and instinctively move your leg settled between his away, “I’m just hot, to be honest.” Technically, it is not a lie. Hyunjin’s family definitely keeps their thermostat at a higher temperature than yours and you always manage to sweat your ass off every time you come over. This time, however, you are certain it has more to do with the assault your heart is facing rather than your sweat glands.

At the sound of his tap against the spacebar to pause the video, you wordlessly and reluctantly sit up from your comfortable spot beside him in order to rid yourself of your heavy sweatshirt. Now, here lies the problem. Sweatshirt: off. Nipples: out. Realistically, Hyunjin has seen your boobs a number of times over the past few years, and even if he hadn’t, he probably wouldn’t even bat an eye. But right now, your heart is on the line, you’re embarrassed and you’re trying to play it extremely safe.

You toss the hoodie to the floor and nestle right back where you were anyway, slinging your right arm over his torso and ignoring his sharp intake of breath when you snuggle closer. “Better?” He asks, voice strained and it literally makes you nauseous. “Yep.”

He resumes the video. You had started early in the night watching Pom Poko, which unsurprisingly ended with the two of you crying at the bittersweet ending, then moved to TikTok compilations on YouTube to cheer up before moving on from them and onto the classic Vine compilations. You paid good attention for the most part, chuckling along with him to ‘What up, I’m Jared, I’m nineteen and I never fucking learned how to read,’ ‘Bruh chill, I don’t know why you in a big time rush,’ and all the other absolute comedic masterpieces. But after the fourth or fifth video of the same six second clips with an occasional rare one, you began to grow bored and decided to do what you do best: admire Hyunjin.

Sure, ‘Come get yo juice!’ followed by the loud smash of the oven made you smile, but you found the flashing lights casting shadows beneath Hyunjin’s eyes and lips much more fascinating. Of course, this is not the first time you have been held so close to him. But it is, however, all too easy to get lost in the sight of him and you’ve noticed recently that you are in desperate need of a map. Whether it’s due to your time away from him or simply an appreciation for untouched beauty you do not know.

Even now, your gaze flickers to his laptop once you hear ‘Get to Del Taco,’ but having already watched it five thousand times you tilt your head upward to catch Hyunjin’s silent giggle at ‘free-sha-voca-do.’ It’s a vicious cycle, really, going back and forth between wanting to simply enjoy the night and realizing enjoying the night lies totally in Hyunjin’s presence. And so, you continue to fall into this trap each time until you pay no mind to the videos at all, basking in the brilliance of Hyunjin’s joyous smile and the warmth his happiness makes you feel. It is this thought that slowly tugs you to sleep, a fight to keep your heavy eyelids open lost until finally, you give in to the comfort and allow yourself to drift off to the sound of ‘Step the fuck up, Kyle.’

You think you are dreaming.

You think.

“___,” the softness of Hyunjin’s voice at the crown of your head eases you from the clutches of sleep and you stretch your locked limbs before curling further into his side. “We didn’t open presents.” Even though you can’t see him, you can hear his pout, and you realize you must be awake to hear the disappointed words caught sluggishly between his lips so vividly. You hum, hesitant to open your eyes because you really want to go back to sleep. Just for a little while. And so, you ask, “What time is it?”

“Just past two,” he whispers.

You hum again, trying to formulate a sensible sentence in the parts of your brain still asleep, “We can… wake up at four. And open gifts. Okay?”

“Okay, weirdo,” Hyunjin chuckles to himself, sliding lower down the mattress after shutting his laptop.

You think you are dreaming.

You think.

You can’t remember ever falling asleep facing each other. But yet again, your brain is clouded beyond capability and now, you know for certain you are dreaming. Hyunjin never faces you.

Blinking slowly, it takes a few seconds for your eyes to adjust to the impenetrable darkness and you struggle to make out the features of Hyunjin’s face. You know you are dreaming, and so you tug him closer, throwing a leg over his thigh and an arm over his waist. Even in your sleep, you feel the sadness pricking at your heart, for even it knows this is only what dreams are made of. You like to make the best of it.

“You know I love you, Jinnie, right?” Your voice comes out funny, drawn out and mumbled like your tongue is numb and you fight the urge to feel for yourself.

“Of course I do. I love you too.” His reply surprises you. You thought he was asleep and, either way, hearing such fond words from him puts your heart at ease. He must be misunderstood.

“No. I mean like… I like you, love you. Like I want to kiss you… kiss you good morning and before bed love you. Send you hearts and take stupid couple pics and… go on dumb dates love you. You know?” Your words feel garbled and incomprehensible the longer you go on, trying to express how you feel when nothing is real proving to be increasingly difficult. God, if only you could do it when things are real.

You start to feel yourself slipping as he mutters a reply, mind in free fall and fuck, fuck, fuck, he’s whispering and you can’t hear him but you are too tired and helpless to wake yourself up to hear it. No, too lost in the next dream to go back. You can’t tell what is real and what isn’t. Christ, were you awake? You can’t tell. All you know is that you are warm, so, so warm and letting sleep take over you once more is the best answer to all your questions.

Hyunjin always says he hates waking people up. Because he’s normally the one needing to be awoken, whenever the roles are swapped he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do.

This time, however, he takes it upon himself to repeatedly smack your face with his pillow. Not a fun experience when it’s coming from someone who fails to recognize his own strength. “Jesus, fuck! Okay!” You hiss, the cloud of sleep abruptly ripped away from you with the slap of his pillow against your skin. Arms raised defensively in front of you, you catch his next swing and tear the pillow out of his grasp to shield yourself all before you have even opened your eyes. When you do so, with the blatant intention just to find where he is and hurl the pillow at him, you are met with the harsh light from his ceiling fan and have to squint past the stinging white light to see his shit-eating grin.

“Was that necessary?” You groan, undeniably annoyed and wanting to glare at him more but needing to rub the ache out of your eyes. “Yes,” is all he says, reaching for your bag and catapulting it to you. He is incredibly lucky you are quick enough to catch it before it thumps against your head. What has gotten into him? Did he eat an entire bag of Pixy Stix while you were asleep? You watch, still dazed from sleep and reeling from the whole pillow smacking attack, as he flings open his closet door and turns back around with two neatly wrapped boxes. You squint to make out the dancing Santa T-rex wrapping paper.

“Oh,” you chirp, understanding, and you unzip your bag to retrieve the large box taking up the majority of space, “thanks for waking me up. I’m surprised you remembered. Did you stay up?”

A rosy blush burns its way across his cheekbones. Odd. “I, um— yeah. No, actually,” he stutters, really odd, given he was bouncing off the walls not even thirty seconds ago, “I set an alarm. You made me sleepy.” Hyunjin sits beside you once you have scooted over, leaning against the wall and crossing his long ass legs. He keeps his eyes trained on the boxes in his hands. “Oh,” you hum, looking to your own gift and suddenly wishing for the mattress to swallow you up, “sorry. I haven’t gotten as much sleep as you on break so far.”

“I don’t think anyone ever has,” he jokes and you finally look to him, sharing a cheeky smile before he gets all shy again, tongue darting out to wet his lips, “um, Merry Christmas, ___.”

It’s a simple phrase, but it makes your heart swell. “Merry Christmas to you too, Hyunjin.” Leaning over, you wrap your arms around his shoulders in an awkward side hug, but still end up feeling all drunk and loopy on love when he eagerly returns the gesture, arms curling around you.

“Okay,” you huff, sitting back, “me first.” You dramatically hold your gift out to him, jittery and nervous all over. Buying for Hyunjin is always hard. He’s just so easy to please, but when you want to do more than just please him it’s a constant battle trying to decide how far out you are going to go for him each year.

You watch impatiently as he tears the wrapping paper open first, and then finally lifts the flaps of the box up. “Aw,” he whimpers, pulling out the quokka plushie and attached certificate, “you adopted a quokka for me?”

You grin when he hugs the soft stuffed animal to his chest, the weight on your shoulders partly lifted from his positive reaction. He reaches back into the box, brow scrunched in thought as he regards the framed picture. “The First Day…?” Hyunjin asks, perplexed as he reads the title above the constellation poster. You scoot closer, leaning over to look it over once more. “This was the constellation of stars on our first day of freshman year. The day we first met.”

“Oh,” Hyunjin sniffs, “that’s really awesome, ___. Thank you. This is coming with me to school.” At this, he hugs you again, probably to hide the tears you know are threatening to spill because Hyunjin is Baby and cries every year. “Anything for my favorite fake Aussie,” you smile, leaning your head on his shoulder as he reads through the quokka adoption letter.

“Okay! Your turn!” He exclaims, setting his gifts back into the box and passing you the smaller one of his. He catches your curious glance to the second one he keeps by his side. “We have to open this one together.”

“Christ, okay. Looks like I’m gonna be crying tonight, too,” you sigh sadly. “Ooh,” jumping ahead of yourself, you wiggle your eyebrows at the white box before you, “Hyunjin if you bought me a Fitbit… I swear to God. How many times have I said I am not working out with you?” However, once you finish tearing open the wrapping paper you find it is not, in fact, a Fitbit.

“It’s not a Fitbit, idiot,” Hyunjin scoffs a second too late, waiting for you to slip the lid off the box. “They’re bond touch bracelets.”

“Explain,” you murmur, enamored but confused at the two little house arrest looking bracelets.

“So basically, we each wear one,” Hyunjin starts, taking one of the bracelets out and a burst of color blooms across its small screen at the motion, “and if you touch it, mine vibrates and I ‘feel’ your touch.” As he explains, he buckles it around your wrist, twisting it so it lies correctly. You silently take the second one and help it on him, brain too caught up to actually say anything.

“Try it,” Hyunjin whispers, suppressing his excitement.

You gingerly bring a finger to the little screen, tapping it once, twice. Nothing happens. Frowning, you try again, tapping and holding, then a second time, and finally— a strip of pink light appears and the bracelet gently vibrates as you tap and hold a random pattern. In response, the bracelet on Hyunjin’s wrist lights up blue, buzzing in the same pattern.

“Oh, Hyunjin,” you sniffle, fighting back your own tears because you refuse to let yourself ugly cry in front of him, “this is amazing. Now I can annoy you year-round. Thank you so, so much. I love you so much.” He hums, pulling you close when you turn to give him a proper hug. To your utmost surprise, however, instead of letting go he curls one fist into your side and helps swing your legs over to straddle his lap. “Oh.”

“___,” Hyunjin sighs thoughtfully, fingers playing with the sleeves of your tee, “I love you, too.”

You nearly spit up your coffee. If you were drinking coffee. Instead, you’re left with a dry mouth and a slack jaw at his words. Huh?

Glancing to the constellation picture peeking out of his box, and then to the matching bracelets you both wear, you find your mind reeling trying to make sense of it all. Yeah, you say the forbidden L-word to each another all the time, but most certainly not with you on his on lap and his lips mere centimeters away. The answer is so obviously clear as day you have trouble believing it.

“Fuck,” you laugh all of a sudden, as soon as the realization hits you, “I wasn’t dreaming, was I?”

Hyunjin lets out a joyous giggle, hands linking behind your back. Unable to hide his smile any longer, he clarifies, “You were not, madam. We literally just finished talking about when we were going to open gifts and then I got ready to sleep. Two seconds later you dumped your heart out to me, but when I answered, you were asleep.”

“Bruh,” you wince, hiding your face with your hands, “I am so sorry you had to deal with that.”

“No, don’t be,” Hyunjin comforts, reaching to tug your hands away. Your gut does somersaults when he intertwines his fingers with yours. “I was actually, uh, planning on doing some sort of confession to you anyway, but then you went right ahead and did it for me. So thanks for that.”

“Wow,” you chuckle, trying to wrap your mind around it all, “does that mean you, ahem, perhaps like me too?”

“No, I just got us really couple-y long distance relationship bracelets, pulled you onto my lap, and kissed you because I just want to be friends.”

“You didn’t kiss m—”

The sly little fucker interrupts your retort by quickly dipping down to press a fat smooch to your lips, missing miserably and you don’t know if he did it on purpose but you quickly fix the problem, releasing his hands to cradle his jaw and tilt his head the right angle. Finally, finally you kiss him, breathing in the smell of him like some sort of aromatherapy and whimpering into his mouth when his tongue swipes against your own. It is like nothing you have ever experienced, the taste and feel of him making you tremble and igniting a burst of electricity through your veins. You could kiss him forever, you think, sucking on his plump bottom lip greedily until he finally pulls back, desperate for air or trying to reel himself in you can’t say.

“You have to open your other gift,” Hyunjin reminds, chest heaving, and your gaze follows his long fingers as they comb his hair away from his forehead. Automatically, as if kissing Hyunjin once grants you some kind of free pass to do the same, you brush a few stray strands away from his face before leaning back to admire him. “Stoooop. You can’t do that and not expect me to kiss you again. Open. Your. Gift.” Hyunjin whines, squishing your cheeks and turning your head away.

“Okay, don’t blame this on me,” you huff, reaching for the second box before jabbing a finger into his chest, “you, sir, need to stop being so beautiful for like, two seconds.”

He scoffs, helping you rip off the wrapping paper, “You’re the beautiful one here.”

“Ew,” you wrinkle your nose, most certainly not used to Hyunjin dishing out such compliments, “this is too Hallmark Christmas movie for me. Let me open my gift in peace, ugly.” This box, unlike the bracelets’, is simple cardboard and when you lift open the lid, a brown leather book looks back at you. “You remember Up?” He asks.

On the leather, it reads Our Adventure Book in mismatched colors. “Yeah,” you whisper, flipping open the cover to find two baby pictures glued on the paper, one of Hyunjin, and one of you. At the top, it’s labeled ‘Before Shit Went Down.’ You laugh.

On the next page, there are random photographs from middle school, and then finally each other’s eighth grade graduation portraits. Then, written at the top is ‘Here It Begins,’ followed by a selfie he randomly took with you a few weeks into school freshman year, and then some from homecoming. Silently flipping through the rest of the book, your tears flow freely now, touched beyond comparison at all the photographs and all the memories accompanying them. Some are from large events like prom, others from random moments you don’t even remember, but each and every one comes together to form a special mold fitting perfectly into that Hyunjin-shaped hole in your heart.

The last picture is from the christening last month. Of course, it isn’t one of the nicer photos his mom took of the two of you, but a SnapChat selfie with the flaming sunglasses filter. He’s mid-laugh and you’re pressing a kiss to his cheek. Funny thing is, you don’t even remember taking it.

The page next to it is blank, aside from what’s written at the top of the page. “Togetha Foreva,” you read aloud, voice choked up and God, you cannot fathom how gross you look right now. “What the fuck, man!” You sob, punching Hyunjin’s shoulder before wiping your nose and cheeks with the back of your hands. “I didn’t sign up for this cock and ball torture.”

Hyunjin laughs loudly at this, pulling you into a hug and giving you a few seconds to recover. “Hyunjin, this is like… seriously the best thing anyone has ever done for me, holy shit. God, you Pinterest son of a bitch, this is such a good idea,” you groan, flipping back through the pages and getting teary-eyed all over again, “I can’t express how much this means to me, Jinnie. Thank you, really.”

Flashing that toothy grin of his, Hyunjin tugs you to lie back down with him and tilts your head up to press a much more accurate kiss to your lips. “I meant what I said before, ___,” he murmurs, “I don’t know what to do without you, and I know we only get to see each other once a month but I can’t keep living as just friends. You’re so much more than that. And I hope all the pictures we add from now on will show this new chapter of our lives. If not, well, then I guess I’ll just burn the book.”

“Are you asking me to be Kkami’s official poop-picker-upper?”

“Yes. Wait— what? No!”

You break into a fit of laughter, only to be interrupted with him pinching your side and causing you to let out a yelp. “Hey!” You bark, jumping closer to him and away from his hand until, finally, you give in to your self-indulgence and go right on ahead in swinging a leg over his hips and pinning him beneath you.

“You ruined my serious love speech, ___,” Hyunjin pouts, face scrunched up at you.

“I’m sorry, baby, go on.”

You pause, blinking slowly at him. He blinks back, the silence in the air weighing in heavily as both of your two brain cells bounce around trying to figure out what did you just call him?

“Never mind,” Hyunjin says, voice a low rumble of thunder as he reaches for your hips and easily flips positions, “I think you’re on the same boat.”

You laugh, tilting your head back and eyeing him indignantly. Fuck, he looks unfairly delectable hovering above you.

“Okay, how many more times do I have to tell you I love you for you to formally ask me to be your girlfriend, stupid?” You scowl, bringing your hands to cradle his neck, thumbs brushing delicately against his jaw.

“Call me baby again and we’ll see about making that happen.”

You raise a brow, tugging his face closer by the chain of his necklace. “You’re lucky it’s Christmas, baby.”

1K notes · View notes