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the-wild-wolves-around-you · 3 years

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hear those bells ring: chapter 3 (a deaf!bakugo x reader fic)

Summary: Bakugo wakes up with his hearing and a bunch of questions.

Pairings: Katsuki Bakugo x Reader; Katsuki Bakugo x You

Rating: M(ature)

Warnings: Blood, descriptions of gore, and adult language.

A/N: Sorry for the wait on ch 3, I had to work over the weekend. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

~*~*~ No spoilers or anything. This is just a self-indulgent AU fic with aged up characters. Everyone’s in their mid-20s. Fic title is from a song called “Achilles Come Down.”

Ao3 Link: Here

Ch 1 Tumblr Link: Here

Ch 2 Tumblr Link: Here

Bakugo woke up confused, disoriented, and pissed off.

He bolted upright, the taste of smoke and ash still on his tongue, but when he whipped his head from side to side, there was no fire, no burning asphalt, no villain, only the empty, dark expanse of his apartment.

But something was still tugging at him, fucking incessantly, and it took him a moment to realize it was his phone alarm.

Red eyes flicked to the device on his bedside table, and even though its continuous siren was like nails on a chalkboard, Bakugo found himself unable to move, unable to stop it.

Because he could hear the alarm. Clearly. Loudly.

He hadn’t been able to hear his phone alarm in weeks, not really. It was nothing more than a muffled tone that petered out toward the end as it rose in pitch and frequency. Thankfully, Bakugo’s internal alarm got him up most days around the sun, but he’d been late to morning patrols a handful of times.

But now…

Numbly, Bakugo finally reached out and tapped his phone. His ears rang slightly in the ensuing silence, but it was barely perceptible, nothing like the perpetual buzzing he’d been living with, like a hive of bees had taken up residence in his head.

The quiet, after so long, was almost… unsettling.

And it was all because of that woman. He was sure of it.

Bakugo pressed his lips into a thin line as he thought about you, the memories of last night flooding back. The blurry image of your face, crouched over him, splattered in a thin mist of red blood and dusted with white plaster. He couldn’t remember much from right after he blasted that villain into the fucking dirt. He remembered the feel of glass breaking around him, and pain, a lot of fucking pain, but then it was black until you appeared. When he’d opened his eyes and met yours, he recalled thinking he should be in more pain, but then you spoke to him and derailed all coherent thought.

Because he’d heard you. Clear as fucking day.

That immediately drew his attention, and so did the blood all over your hands.

There was a lot of it. Way too fucking much for nicking yourself on some glass or whatever bullshit excuse you gave. And Bakugo knew it was bullshit. You weren’t a convincing liar. Well, maybe to some idiot extras you would be, but not to him. He clocked the way you stuttered, the way you fidgeted and averted your eyes. And when you looked at him… fuck, your face was so goddamn guilty.

Why, he had no idea.

But he did know one thing.

You had a healing quirk. There was no other explanation.

Even if he hadn’t just miraculously recovered the hearing that a doctor told him he would never get back, there were a lot of other little discrepancies. His left arm, for one. Bakugo remembered how it felt when the villain’s asphalt wrapped around his limb, the burning, scalding agony of it. But now, the skin was just pink and barely blistered in some places.

Then there was the blood.

When he’d gotten home after ditching the crime scene, Bakugo had immediately beelined for his bathroom to take a shower. But, when he stripped off his hoodie, he realized it was heavier than it should be right before he noticed it was dripping onto his floor. Dripping blood. Without thinking, he’d wrung the hoodie out on the bathroom floor, and a fuck ton of red liquid seeped out of it.

He had immediately dropped the jacket and started scanning his body in the bathroom mirror, but besides the shallow gash on his abdomen, the burned arm, and a few other minor scrapes and bruises, he was uninjured.

But… his back was coated in red, and so were the seat of his dark jeans and boxer briefs. It was almost like… he’d been lying in a pool of blood.

So, you had to be a healer. You just had to be.

Unfortunately, he hadn’t been able to confirm this since the cops had been circling you like vultures. He also hadn’t wanted to be bitched at by any more heroes, or the fucking media, so he made himself scarce.

But he needed to see you again. Needed to hear the truth from your own mouth.

And maybe he could coax you into a deal.

The doctor Bakugo spoke to yesterday obviously hadn’t known what the hell he was talking about. He had made it sound impossible to fix the blond’s ears, and yet you’d somehow done it easily, in the middle of a fucking battlefield.

With that kind of power, Bakugo wouldn’t have to worry about going deaf or designing stupid hearing aids with some company.

With that kind of power, Dynamight would become Japan’s Number One Hero in no time.

But first, he had to find you.

Resolved, Bakugo shoved the covers off and slid out of bed, but before he could make it to his bathroom, someone started knocking on his front door.

No, not knocking. Banging. It sounded like they were trying to break the fucking door down.

“Bakubroooooooo!”

“Gotta be fuckin’ kidding me,” Bakugo grumbled as he padded to his front door. He was only dressed in boxer briefs, but that’s what the idiot got for barging over so early in the damn morning.

The banging persisted, growing louder and more fervent.

“I’m fuckin’ comin!” the blond shouted just before he undid the deadbolt and wrenched open the door.

Eijiro Kirishima, dressed in his Red Riot costume, blinked on the other side of the threshold, his fist still raised to knock.

“What the fuck, bro?” he asked after a moment of just staring at Bakugo.

The blond immediately scowled. “That’s my fuckin’ line. What are you doing breaking down my door at six in the damn morning?”

“Excuse me?” his patrol and agency partner scoffed. “I’m obviously coming to check that you’re not dead since you’ve been MIA for over twenty-four hours.”

“What?” Bakugo frowned. “I saw you yesterday morning for patrol.”

“Noooooo,” Kirishima drawled like Bakugo was a particularly stupid child. “That was two days ago, bro. Then that night, I see you all over the damn news, and no one could get ahold of you all day yesterday. I would have come to check on you sooner, but I’ve been having to play damage control with the media because someone decided to blow up a residential neighborhood.”

“Two days?” Bakugo echoed with a furrowed brow. He’d slept that long?

“Have you been passed out this whole time, dude?” Kirishima groaned as he shouldered his way into the apartment. “I guess that means you got none of our messages?”

“Our?” the blond grumbled as he closed the door and followed the redhead to the kitchen bar.

“Yeah, Denki, Mina, Sero.” Kirishima waved his hand dismissively, marching over to the counter where Bakugo kept the fruit and selecting an apple from the wire basket. “I even asked Izuku to message you, just to see if he’d actually get a rise and response from you.”

“I don’t need stupid Deku knowing about my problems, Shitty Hair,” Bakugo growled before he stomped over to his fridge to see what he had to eat because he was suddenly starving.

“Well, that would imply I know your problems, Oh Great Lord Dynamight,” Kirishima snorted and took a bite of apple. “So, what the fuck happened the other night?”

“I blew up a residential neighborhood,” the blond deadpanned as he turned on his stove, cracking a few eggs into a skillet.

“Yeah, I saw that. I was more wondering about what led up to it.”

“What the fuck do you think led up to it?” Bakugo snapped, rummaging through his cupboard for seasonings. “I was walking home from getting a drink, and a damn villain just popped up in front of me.”

“From what I heard, there were other heroes there, too,” the redhead mumbled around another bite of apple.

“Yeah, fuckin’ useless extras,” Bakugo sneered as he started to whisk his eggs with a pair of chopsticks, throwing in some leftover white rice and a bit of nori. “They obviously weren’t getting anywhere, and the bastard was tearing up the street, so I stepped in.”

“To finish destroying the street?” Kirishima cocked an eyebrow, chewing noisily.

“Fuck off,” the blond said with an eyeroll.

Internally, though, Bakugo knew the redhead was right. He’d been sloppy, careless, probably still borderline drunk. But he’d just been so angry about the doctor’s appointment, his fucked-up ears, his bleak and silent future. He had just wanted to break something, hurt someone, consequences be damned.

Except now the consequences were catching up to him.

Fuck, he didn’t even want to think about what his citizen’s approval rating must be now.

Silence stretched between the two pro heroes for several long minutes, in which Bakugo finished making his breakfast and Kirishima finished gnawing on his apple core. The blond quickly shoveled a few bites of eggs and rice into his mouth, but his scarlet eyes kept flicking over to the redhead.

“How bad?” he finally asked.

Kirishima, to his credit, had learned how to translate Bakugo’s curt grunts years ago.

“Actually, if I’m being honest, it’s not that bad,” he sighed, tossing the apple core in the trash and scratching at the back of his head. “Could be worse. From the reports I read, most of the damage—besides the road—is superficial. Broken windows, charred and peeling paint, a few busted cars that we’re still trying to figure out if our insurance or the city’s will pay for. It also helped that you saved two people. That definitely softened the blow.”

“Two?” Bakugo mumbled around one of his last bites. “I just remember the stupid extra on the street that I shoved out of the way.”

As the memory flashed through his mind, Bakugo frowned. He’d shoved that extra out of the way and got snatched by a giant asphalt hand for his troubles. The blond’s red eyes dropped to his pink and blotchy left arm and then trailed over to his chest. He recalled the sensation of his ribs snapping under pressure, but now only a mild soreness lingered after he took a deep breath. Yet another inconsistency…

“Yeah, two,” Kirishima said and drew Bakugo out of his thoughts. “Do you seriously not even remember your own heroics? And that girl had such nice things to say about you, too.”

“Girl?” Bakugo snapped his head up. “The girl whose… apartment I fell into?”

“Crashed into, dude,” the redhead snorted, but then he narrowed his eyes as a sly smirk tugged at his lips. “But yeah. Sounds like you remember her, huh?”

Bakugo didn’t like the smug look on his friend’s face.

“I remember her fuckin’ yellin’ at me.” The blond scowled. “Like I wrecked her place on purpose and didn’t just save her whole block from a lunatic.”

“I mean, to be fair, if you crashed into my house, bro, I would have yelled at you, too.” Kirishima grinned. “But don’t worry, she’s fine. In fact, when she called the agency yesterday, she asked for you specifically.”

“She did? Why?” Did she want to confess her healing quirk? Fuck, were there side effects Bakugo didn’t know about?

“Bro, seriously.” Kirishima rolled his eyes. “You’re Japan’s Number Two Hero, and you saved her life. And, like Mina keeps telling you, you’re not as ugly when you stop scowling.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Bakugo flipped him off before he went to dump the dishes in the sink.

“Yes, dear.” The redhead smirked. “But, in all seriousness, she called to figure out how to file a claim with our insurance. Or at least that’s what she said, but she also asked how you were doing, and she actually sounded genuinely worried.”

Worried that a random side effect was going to kill him? Or worried that he would say something about her quirk? She’d obviously hidden it for a reason, tried to lie for a reason.

And Bakugo was determined to find out just what that reason was.

“Yeah, well, I’m fine,” he grunted as he rinsed off his plate and put it on the drying rack. “Just a few scrapes and bruises.”

“I can see that,” Kirishima said as he eyed the butterfly stitches stretched across the gash on Bakugo’s abdomen. “Well, I’m glad I didn’t find you dead in a pool of your own blood. That woulda been a real bummer way to start the morning.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bakugo muttered before he averted his eyes to the living room window across from him. “So… what did you tell her?”

“The girl?”

“No, you’re fuckin’ mom,” the blond scoffed.

“Oh, speaking of moms, you might want to text Mitsuki. I called her last night after you ignored my billionth text, so she’s probably going crazy wondering where you are.” Kirishima grinned and then immediately dodged out of the way as Bakugo hurled a fork at him.

“You bastard!” Bakugo hissed. “Now, I’m going to have to see that hag this weekend or she’s gonna fuckin’ barge over here.”

“Maybe you should turn the ringer up on your phone.” The other hero shrugged, ducking again when Bakugo chucked an apple in his direction.

The blond scowled at his friend, but he didn’t reply.

If you and your quirk were the real deal, Bakugo wouldn’t have to worry about missing a call ever again.

When Kirishima realized the projectiles had stopped, he popped his head over the back of the couch and smirked. “But to answer your previous question, I told the girl we would handle the insurance claim on our end if she sent us her info. And I didn’t really have anything to tell her about you since, like I’ve said, I thought you were dead. Kinda. I was at least thirty percent sure.”

“Have you filed the insurance claim?” Bakugo asked.

“No.” Kirishima shook his head. “She hasn’t sent in the info yet.”

“Well… we should go get it from her.”

This caused the redhead’s eyebrows to shoot up into his hairline, and the surprise on his face quickly made Bakugo backtrack.

“I just… want to get this shitshow over with,” he grumbled as he averted his eyes again, but he could feel a traitorous heat crawling across the bridge of his nose. “The longer her apartment’s all fucked up, the longer the press is gonna rake me over the coals. The hero ranking’s aren’t far off, and I’m not going to lose to Deku again over some stupid broken windows.”

“Righttttt,” Kirishima drawled, but his tone was mocking. “Okay, well, I know the hotel the police have set her up at. After we swing by the agency, we can head that way… to get her insurance info.”

He still sounded unconvinced and like he wanted to needle Bakugo more, but the blond changed the subject quickly.

“Why do we have to go to the agency?” Bakugo asked, and he frowned as he glanced back at his partner. “Even if I lost yesterday, my next scheduled patrol isn’t till tonight.”

“Oh, I know.” Kirishima nodded solemnly. “But Nao wanted to have… a word with you ASAP, if I confirmed you weren’t dead.”

“Fuckkkkkkk,” Bakugo groaned as he dropped his head back. If there was anything Bakugo hated more than the press, it was his actual PR manager. That old hag was good at her job, which meant she was always up Bakugo’s ass about something, and he knew she was going to have a field day with this shitfest.

“Yeah, I’d recommend coffee and preemptive painkillers before we head in,” Kirishima said. “Plus, some putting on clothes. Maybe we can stop on the way and get her something sweet as a bribe.”

“No amount of sugar is gonna make that bitch nice to me,” Bakugo grumbled before he spun on heel and started marching to his bedroom.

“Maybe flowers then?” the redhead shouted after him.

Bakugo slammed the door in response.

~*~*~*~*~*~

“This is fuckin’ ridiculous,” Bakugo growled around his cargo, kicking his foot out at Kirishima. “Why did I listen to you? I’ve had to go shopping twice today now.”

“Come on,” his friend laughed as he dodged the blow, which made the bags in his arms crinkle. “You can’t deny the flowers and cookies sweetened ole’ Nao up.”

“To you,” Bakugo muttered, shifting the package in his arms a bit. “She still yelled at me for fifteen minutes.”

“Well, you kinda deserved i—yow!” Kirishima yelped as Bakugo kicked him squarely in the ass this time. “This isn’t helping your image, bro!”

“No one even knows it’s us,” the blond hissed.

“Yeah, I guess the hoodies and sunglasses help,” the other pro hero mused.

“And the fact that we’re carrying all this stupid shit.”

“It’s not stupid.” Kirishima frowned in that earnest way of his, which made Bakugo roll his eyes. “It’s thoughtful to bring gifts to people who are having a difficult time. Especially when you made that time difficult. You basically kicked her out of her house, dude, not to mention her shop.”

A wave of guilt actually washed through the blond, which he didn’t like. It made his throat feel tight and his stomach churn, and he glanced away from the redhead with a scowl.

“Tch.” He clicked his tongue. “It’s not like we aren’t gonna pay for it.”

The excuse felt flat, even to him.

“Still,” Kirishima said as he shifted the bags in his grip, pulled out his phone, and consulted the map. “It must be stressful. So, we’re going to be nice to her, alright? Which starts with the gifts.”

“And how is a fuckin’ fruit basket supposed to help?” Bakugo asked as he glared around the overflowing mound of crinkling plastic and bright fruit that he held against his chest.

“Uh, one, it’s practical. Her apartment’s all fucked up, the power’s probably still out if not inconsistent on the street, and she’s been living in a hotel for two days, so she probably hasn’t had some nice fresh fruit in a while. And two, it looks nice!”

“We coulda just left this shit at the hotel,” Bakugo grumbled. “She has to go back there eventually, right?”

After old Nao chewed his ass out, Bakugo and Kirishima had gone to the hotel the police said they’d put you up in. Except you weren’t fucking there, and the number you left with Kirishima when you called the agency was going straight to voicemail, so here there were, fucking trekking through the city with a bunch of useless shit.

Bakugo just kept reminding himself it would be worth it when he got the truth about your quirk out of you.

“Nope,” Kirishima said and drew the blond out of his thoughts. “The city only pays the first two days after an emergency, unless the villain caused all the damage, but, uh, that’s not the case here, so we’ll be accommodating her until her apartment gets fixed up.”

“At the agency?” Bakugo asked as his red eyes clicked over to his partner.

As the Number Two and Three Heroes, the two of them had built a solid agency together. Bakugo still didn’t care for a bunch of extras riding on his tailcoats, so they had few sidekicks, all of whom reported to Kirishima and left him the fuck alone for the most part. But they owned a nice, sleek building in a nicer part of town, and one of the floors was dedicated to individual rooms with beds and other amenities. They were usually used when Bakugo, Kirishima, or the other sidekicks wanted to crash after patrol instead of going home—which Bakugo did more often than not—but they’d never had a civilian stay on the premises.

Until now.

“Yessssss, at the agency,” the redhead drawled as a shit-eating smirk crawled across his face. “So, you’ll be seeing a lot of her for the next couple weeks.”

“Wipe that stupid look off your face.” Bakugo scowled and shouldered past the other hero, who snickered as he jogged to catch up.

“Take the next left up ahead.”

“Shut up!” the blond growled, but he followed the instructions.

This was good news, though. Bakugo wouldn’t have to trek to this shitty part of town more than he had to.

And he’d have a healer just down the hall.

They marched along in silence for a few minutes, keeping their heads down, but there wasn’t much foot traffic. Bakugo was lost in his thoughts, planning out the questions he was going to ask you once he could distract Kirishima, but the redhead suddenly stopped in front of him.

“Hey,” Bakugo grunted as the fruit basket crinkled against the other hero’s back. He hadn’t even notice Kiri get in front of him again. “What’s the damn hold up?”

“Holy shit, dude,” Kirishima muttered, staring out at the road he’d just turned onto.

“What?” the blond grumbled, shoving past his friend, but then he stopped, too. “Oh… yeah.”

The street in front of him looked much worse in the bright light of midday. The road was a torn-up mess, more patches of dirt and gravel than actual asphalt. Most of the large-scale debris had been hauled away, but black scorch marks covered the sidewalks in long, dark smears. The walls of several businesses also bore charring along the facades, but most of the damage was focused in the center of the street. A crater nearly six feet deep was carved into the middle of the road, and the buildings on either side were blackened, their broken windows gaping voids.

And then there was the hole in what Bakugo remembered as your second-floor apartment. A tarp hung over the wound, but one of the corners had come undone, flapping in the wind and giving split second glimpses into the darkened room beyond.

Guilt crept up on him again, but Bakugo shoved it down, hunching over the fruit basket and nudging Kirishima.

“Come on,” he muttered before he started moving forward, and a moment later he heard the crunch of boots on gravel as the redhead followed him.

There were more people on this street than on the last several, but Bakugo could immediately tell they weren’t customers just passing through. People swept sidewalks, clearing away the last of the rubble and glass in front of their shops. Then a few old ladies stood under one awning shaking their heads, their hands laden with containers of food or gifts.

Guess Kirishima hadn’t been wrong with this stupid idea.

Then Bakugo realized some of those people were starting to look back at him, so he ducked his head further behind the fruit basket, grateful for his hoodie and sunglasses.

But then suddenly he was there, standing in front of your ruined shop. His red eyes immediately flickered upward, but if there was a sign there before, it was gone now, burnt to ash.

“What kinda shop did you say this was?” the blond asked under his breath as Kirishima paused beside him.

“I’m… not sure,” the redhead said with a furrowed brow. “I don’t think she said on the phone. No time like the present to ask, though.”

Before Bakugo could stop him, Kirishima shifted the bags in his arms, lifted one hand, and knocked on the charred metal frame of the front door.

“Hello?” he called through the broken windows, followed by your name. “Anyone in there?”

“Shit!” The squeaking voice was followed by a crashing sound somewhere in the shadows of the store.

Bakugo didn’t speak a lot of English, but he did know curse words, and the sound of it made his lips twitch in amusement.

“Are you okay?” Kirishima called out. “Can, uh, we come in?”

“Yes, I’m fine!” the voice answered back in flustered Japanese. The words were fluent, though, with barely the hint of an accent. “And, um, I-I guess you can come in, but—”

That was good enough for Bakugo.

The blond shouldered past his partner, boots crunching over glass as he ducked into the darkened shop, and Kirishima sighed as he followed.

The interior, if possible, looked worse than the outside. The room itself wasn’t very big, but it was a mess. Two metal rods had been embedded in the left and right walls at odd angles, obviously caused from the explosions, though Bakugo couldn’t tell what they used to be. Several pieces of blacked mannequins were scattered through the debris, and one wall was a charred mess of shelving and fabric, spots of color peeking through the black ash here and there.

In the back, left corner were the remains of a tri-fold standing mirror, the ones where you could see yourself from different angles. Large shards of glass were missing, though, so the image of Bakugo and Kirishima standing backlit against the street was fractured.

Last but not least, in the rear, right corner of the store was a counter that was half collapsed to the floor, behind which stood an empty doorframe that Bakugo assumed led to the back of the shop and upstairs.

And it was from behind this broken counter that you popped up with a dustpan in one hand and a tiny, handheld broom in the other.

The first thought Bakugo had was your face was rather plain… but in a somehow pleasing way. Like if his eyes had scanned over you in a crowd, something about the line of your jaw, the slope of your nose, the delicate quirk of your mouth would give him pause.

His second thought was that his first one was stupid. You were just some extra, of course you would be plain and unmemorable.

But his third thought was something about the color of your eyes was captivating, in a way that was damn fucking annoying.

“Sorry, I was just… cleaning… up,” you said, slowly trailing off as your eyes met Bakugo’s.

He saw the recognition flare in them immediately, followed by fear, and he couldn’t help the frown that twisted his face.

Why were you afraid of him?

“No, we’re sorry for barging in here like this,” Kirishima barreled on, oblivious to the stare off the other two occupants of the room were engaged in. “Didn’t mean to startle you. Oh! I’m being so rude. My name is Eijiro Kirishima, or you might know me as—”

“Red Riot,” you breathed, finally tearing your eyes from Bakugo’s, and you flashed the redhead a half-smile that trembled along the edges. “We spoke on the phone.”

“Yes.” Kirishima grinned, pointed teeth flashing in the dim light of the shop, before his gaze flickered over to the blond beside him. “And this is—”

“Dynamight,” you finished once again, and you looked like you were trying desperately to maintain eye contact with the hardening hero, but then your eyes clicked back to Bakugo. You didn’t flash him a smile. “We’ve met.”

“Oh, yeah, right,” Kiri chuckled awkwardly, and his arm jerked like he was going to rub the back of his neck, but the bags in his hands crinkled and stopped him.

“What… do you have there?” you asked, frowning at the bags and the fruit basket the heroes were carrying.

“Gifts!” the redhead declared as he hefted his arms up, and then he shuffled forward over charred fabric and glass and extended the bags to you.

You blinked at him for a second, but you set the dustpan and handheld broom on the counter, where they promptly slid to the floor since the whole surface was slanted. You winced at the loud clatter and tried to cover it up by taking the bags from Kirishima, which crinkled loudly again as they transferred hands.

Bakugo would be annoyed if he wasn’t more grateful that he could actually hear the innocuous little noise.

“O-Oh, um, you shouldn’t have, really,” you started as you peeked into the bags, and then Bakugo swore he saw your eyebrow twitch once you saw what was inside.

“It’s not much,” Kirishima said, and he was finally free to rub the back of his head and neck as his smile turned a little sheepish. “But, what with the state of your… apartment, we thought you might need some new clothes! And comfy clothes are the best after stressful days. These especially are super soft, we made sure of it. And, if you don’t like them, you could always sell them for a good chunk of change.”

The redhead winked at you, not in an overly flirty manner, that was just how he was, but your cheeks flared as crimson as his hair, and your eyes dropped to the floor.

Bakugo took the split instant to get a better look at you and noted you were wearing patched, faded jeans, solid boots, and a bleach-stained orange sweatshirt with some English writing he couldn’t read. Usually, he didn’t really see what other people wore because he couldn’t give less of a shit, but somehow he found your obvious cleaning clothes… endearing. The orange looked good on you, too.

Fuck, maybe you didn’t heal him as well as he thought. He had to be hemorrhaging into his brain to be thinking this stupid shit. Or maybe it was a side effect of your quirk?

He needed to get you alone and get answers.

“Well… thank you, this was very thoughtf—oh, wow, that is soft,” you murmured as you partially drew a sweatshirt out of the bag.

Bakugo instantly recognized the forest green and orange color scheme, and apparently so did you, because your face twitched, and you dropped the garment back into the bag and traded it for fuzzy socks with Red Riot’s signature gears stitched into them.

“These will definitely come in handy, my feet are always cold,” you said with an awkward giggle. Then you cleared your throat to cover up the sound. “Thank you, um, Red Riot.”

“You can call me Eijiro, or Kirishima, whatever you’re comfortable with,” the redhead said with another easy grin. “We’re going to be seeing a lot of each other, after all. Oh! We also got you a fruit basket, and I think there might be a few other sweets tucked in there.”

Kirishima nudged Bakugo forward, and your face rippled through a range of emotions, like your brain was taking a second to catch up to everything the pro hero just spewed. First, flustered embarrassment colored your cheeks, then confusion buckled your brow, and your eyes widened before they looked at the fruit basket Bakugo was extending at you.

“Oh, you can just put it down… um…” you trailed off as you turned to the counter and remembered it was half destroyed. Then your eyes jumped around frantically for some kind of flat surface, but the ruined shop didn’t offer any solutions.

“Told ya we shouldn’t of brought this shit,” Bakugo grunted, shooting a scowl at Kirishima.

“Yeahhhhh, we probably could have just delivered it to your room at the agency, my bad,” the redhead laughed. “But don’t worry, we’ll carry it back for you, along with any of your other things.”

“My… things?” you echoed, sounding out the words like a child, and a frown marred your face. “I-I think I must be misunderstanding you, I’m sorry, I’m American. But did you say my room at the agency? As in… your hero agency?”

“You’re American?” Kirishima asked with wide red eyes. “I wouldn’t have even guessed! Your accent is almost perfect, I thought you were maybe just from like the countryside or something.”

“I thought you said we were supposed to be nice to her,” Bakugo snorted at his partner like you weren’t in the room, and he saw you frown at him out of the corner of his eye.

“Oh, shit, no, that wasn’t what I meant!” Japan’s Number Three Hero immediately began waving his hands in front of his face, his mouth moving twice as fast. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. I really think your accent sounds nice! It’s very cute!”

Now, not only did your cheeks flush again, but the red hue traveled down your throat and across your collarbones, peeking out the stretched collar of your orange sweatshirt.

Bakugo found himself half distracted by the sight, but the other half was wondering why he suddenly felt irritation flare up in his gut.

“Okay, you don’t have to take her out on a date now,” the blond snapped, shifting his burden of fruit and plastic.

“I-I think we might have gotten off track,” you stuttered as you clutched the bag of Dynamight and Red Riot merch to your chest. “You said something about your agency.”

“Yes, right.” Kirishima cleared his throat. “We would have mentioned this in our follow up email after you sent in your insurance info, but—”

“Oh, no, I’m so sorry!” you cut him off with a grimace, and you actually dipped your head and shoulders into a bow. “I meant to send that yesterday, but my laptop is broken, and my cell service isn’t great—”

“No, no, it’s fine!” the redhead interrupted this time. “You obviously have a lot on your plate. I just meant that this might seem kind of sudden, but—”

Fucking hell, this was taking too long.

“You’re staying at our agency until we can pay for the repairs to your apartment and shop,” Bakugo said bluntly. If he didn’t step in, the two of you were just going to stammer circles around each other all day. “Starting tonight. We have rooms with beds and shit, so pack whatever clothes or crap you need.”

Your mouth fell open as you gaped at Bakugo. “I… what?”

“You deaf or something?” The words rocketed from his mouth before he could stop them, before he could even think about what he was saying, and he saw the way the question struck you like a physical blow. You flinched, your cheeks paling, and he saw dawning, guilty horror glint at the back of your eyes.

He’d been right. You did do something to his ears.

“Bro, you were just talking about being nice.” Kirishima frowned at Bakugo before he turned back to you. “Ignore him. We’re really sorry about the inconvenience this whole… incident has caused for you, but we’ll take care of everything you need until your shop’s grand reopening, so you don’t have to worry about a thing, okay?”

You continued to stare at the two heroes in shocked silence, your wide eyes clicking back and forth between the two of them as you clutched the bags to your chest like a lifeline.

“That is… all so generous,” you finally breathed, your tone rising in pitch like you were growing increasingly flustered. “It’s, um, a lot to take in.”

“Of course.” Kirishima nodded fervently. “What else can we do to help?”

“Could you leave?”

Bakugo blinked in surprise and then had to stifle his snort.

“Oh, no, I’m sorry!” you quickly followed up when you saw the redhead’s falling expression. “I didn’t mean… I just meant, could I have some time to process this? Um, alone? L-Like Dynamight said, I need to pack a few things, a-and there are some people I need to speak to before, uh… well, is it okay if I tell someone where I’ll be? Like, at your agency?”

“Yessss?” Kirishima said with a confused frown. “Why wouldn’t that be okay?”

“O-Oh, I just don’t really know how the whole hero and media thing works here,” you quickly lied, and Bakugo clocked the way you averted your eyes, the way your throat bobbed as you swallowed thickly. “I-I wasn’t going to post on social media or anything, I barely use that stuff anyway, but one of my customers, Mrs. Kojima, would be upset if I disappeared without saying anything.”

“Aww, that’s sweet.” The redhead grinned before he glanced at the shadowed ruins around him. “What kind of shop is this by the way? I don’t think you mentioned.”

“A-Alterations,” you said, ducking your face in embarrassment again. “My grandparents were a tailor and seamstress. I inherited this place from them.”

“I thought you said you were American?” Kirishima asked, but not in an accusatory way. He was just too curious for his own good and didn’t possess much of a filter.

Bakugo usually didn’t care for small talk, fucking waste of time if you asked him, but he found himself focusing intently on you, awaiting a response.

“I am.” You nodded. “My parents were both born here, but they moved to the States after they married, and I was born there. After my grandparents passed, my dad was going to sell the shop, but I was looking for something… new, so I decided to move here instead about a year ago.”

Bakugo pursed his lips at this new information. If you had a healing quirk, why were you patching up clothes in some little shop all the way across the world from your surviving family? Could it be because your quirk was dangerous?

“Wow, that’s cool,” Kirishima said with an impressed expression that quickly turned sheepish. “Except about your grandparent’s passing. My condolences.”

“Thank you,” you muttered, a small smile tugging at your lips, but then you quickly shook your head. “I-I’m sorry, didn’t mean to give you my whole life story, I tend to talk when I’m nervous.”

“You don’t have to be nervous,” Red Riot laughed like he did when he was meeting shy little kids on the street, flashing his sharpened teeth jokingly and winking in an overexaggerated fashion. “I promise, we look scarier than we are.”

“Speak for yourself, Shitty Hair,” Bakugo scoffed, which made you jump, like you’d forgotten he was there.

And that rubbed him the wrong way for some reason.

Kirishima merely smirked before he partially covered his mouth with his hand and lowered his voice into a stage whisper directed at you. “All bark, no bite, I’m telling you.”

“Stop making me seem lame, you bastard!” the blond growled, but the effect was kind of ruined by the fruit basket crinkling in his hands again.

This actually seemed to startle a giggle out of you, and the two heroes whipped around, one with a grin and the other a scowl.

“See, you don’t need to be nervous,” Kirishima said before he slung an arm around Bakugo’s shoulders. “But we’ll get out of your hair for now so you can have some time to pack and everything. Don’t worry about picking up too much, though, we’ll have cleaning crews in here before we start the remodel, and we don’t want you to get hurt in here. If there’s stuff up in your apartment that you don’t want to bring with you to the agency but don’t want thrown out, make a list, and we’ll be sure to keep everything safe.”

“O-Okay,” you said, still standing there with the hero merch clenched to your chest and a dumbstruck expression on your face. “T-Thank you again, Red--, erm, Kirishima.”

“Of course!” He grinned. “I have patrol tonight, but we’ll send a car to pick you up—”

“No,” Bakugo cut in as he locked eyes with you. “I’ll pick you up. What time?”

The blond could see Kirishima shoot him a look in his peripherals—probably because they both had patrol tonight—but Bakugo ignored his partner, maintaining eye contact with you.

You, meanwhile, squirmed under the explosive hero’s intense scrutiny, your face paling and flushing in turns. “I… no, you don’t have to do that, I can take the train—”

“I insist,” he interrupted again, narrowing his eyes so you would realize he wasn’t going to back down. “Like Shitty Hair said, we caused this… inconvenience, so I’ll pick you up. What. Time?”

You swallowed thickly, your throat audibly clicking. “S-Seven?”

“I’ll be here at seven sharp,” Bakugo said. “And you better be out front or at least answer your phone this time.”

You better not run, he didn’t say, but by the look on your face, you understood.

“Seven sharp.” You nodded, biting your lip as a resigned expression settled over your features. “Got it.”

“Great. See you then.”

With that, Bakugo turned on heel and crunched his way out of your store, leaving Kirishima stuttering apologies in his wake.

But that didn’t matter.

All that mattered was, tonight, he’d finally get you alone and get to the bottom of your damn quirk.

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jaysbestie · 3 years

Note

ahshshdhsh this is my first time using the ask function in this app and i might as well take this as an opportunity. can you please write about jakey being a hopeless romantic (kinda like f2l thing) wherein they're also classmates and y/n is oblivious af? it would be very much appreciated, thank you~

hi this is a vERY late, I don't know if this is similarto what you wanted, I'm so sorry, but I hope you like it!!

Hoops and Love Letters

pairing ; f2l! basketball player! jake x gn reader

genre ; fluff

warnings ; food

summary ; jake, your best friend since you were children has started making your heart beat fast, little do you know, his is beating just as fast...

"yo jake!"

you were sitting on one of the park's benches with your best friend while eating strawberry flavored ice cream he got for you, when you heard someone call your best friend's name.

"jake!"

it was louder this time, meaning the person calling him was coming closer. Suddenly one of jake's friends, sunghoon, came into view trying to catch his breath while he sat down on the bench between you.

well now that was awkward.

he looked between you two, clueless to the situation you were in and asked,

"did I interrupt anything?"

he asked and to that question, your cheeks reddened as you turned to look at jake, noticing how his cheeks were also light crimson as he opened his mouth to answer his friend's question

"n-no you sure didn't" jake stammered. but jake never stammers?? and you just stood there, a little sad that jake answered sunghoon's question negatively and you just stood there, taken aback by jake's answer and by his stammering.

"it doesn't seem like it tho, anyways, heesung needs you in practice, jay was late and he almost got yelled at" sunghoon started talking without getting a breath, almost as if he was rapping.

you searched jake's face for a reaction and he didn't even look surprised by ths situation going on at the school's gym.

"well, y/n, I'll have to go, sadly, however, ill try to return you your book on saturday on our picnic!" he told you while he got his school bag, from the bench you sat on every day after school, and started walking behind sunghoon to the gym.

"I'll be waiting for my book!" you yelled and screamed, happy that he remembered the poetry book he borrowed from you, two weeks ago. you see, your and jake's bond was something unbreakable, being friends and classmates from a very young age and being lucky enough to be able to continue this friendship till now. you started packing your bag and put the cup from the ice cream in the park's trashcan while going to your house. there really wasn't anyone at home however you prepared your table fully and made yourself lunch. you sat down trying to find a boring enough movie so that you'll be motivated to stop watching it and study or catch a nap.

————————♡timeskip♡———————

it was now 7pm on a friday afternoon and you were currently doing your homework so that you didn't have to do them during the weekend, when your computer started alarming you that there was an incoming skype call by jake. it made you instantly smile and you answered his call watching his face brighten once he saw you had picked up.

"hey"

"hi"

"are you doing homework on a friday night?" he asked, while he looked at me as if I was a weird creature.

"yeah, I don't understand your opposition on me doing my homework on a friday night" you said, the fake offended look on your face made jake laugh and that moment it was like you heard an angel laugh.

"have you prepared anything for our picnic tomorrow?"

oh shIT

you panicked

"I swear to god, y/n y/l/n, did you forget about one of the most important days of the month?" it was his turn to act offended now taking a dramatic pose acting as if he was crying.

you were about to start crying because, hoW. COULD. YOU. FORGET. YOUR PICNIC?!?!

"oH HELL NOH, how could I forget our picnic?!" you stated nervously hoping that he didn't notice the panic on your face when he mentioned the picnic.

"great, I was hoping you remembered about it because, well,,, tomorrow's picnic will be extra special, than just a day on the calendar" he said, he seemed nervous and by his sentence you became nervous too, hoping that something joyful will be behind this "extra special picnic"

"YO Y/N YOU THERE?" he yelled and then proceeded to slap his laptop's screen, just to make sure his computer wasn't the problematical one.

"yeah sorry, my laptop started glitching, see you tomorrow at the park!" you yelled at him and ended the call in a hurry.

you sat up from your desk's chair and walked in front of your mirror

"I now have to go down and prepare for tomorrow's picnic" you said to try and convince yourself to go down and prepare however your plan was interrupted when your phone rang, the name of your other best friend lighting up the screen.

"YANG JUNGWON YOU LITTLE MONSTER" you screamed as you picked up the phone.

" yo y/n what is your proBLEM?!"

"YOU OBVIOUSLY"

"what did I do this time bestie, explain to me please"

"well I was about to go prepare for my monthly picnic with jake but you decided that it was a good idea to call me".

"oooh, jake, the guy that likes you but doesn't know how to tell you"

"plEASE, he doesn't like me, we've been friends for a couple years and he sees me as a good friend"

"ok but like, since yOU like him, why don't you speak to him about it?"

at this point you are heading to the kitchen in order to get ready for tomorrow, since hanging up on jungwon wouldn't happen soon.

"if I tell him I might ruin our friendship, won"

"he likes you too tho, even sunghoon noticed!"

"since when do you hang out with sunghoon?"

"since you were too busy going on dates with jake"

"please, we had study meetings"

"yeah call it whatever you want love"

you tried to respond to jungwon but nothing came out of your mouth so jungwon continued,

"anyways, I'm hanging up so you can prepare for your picnic, by the way, wear those brown corduroy pants I got you for your birthday!!"

"yeah fine, I'll make sure to fill you in on what happened won, good night!"

"night y/n!"

with that you went to prepare some quick snacks for tomorrow and also got some of your favorite jellies from a seven eleven nearby, all because they were also jake's favorite jellies.

———————♡timeskip #2♡———————

you woke up by the sudden sound of your alarm, you didn't even remember setting an alarm but you find have time to worry about stuff like this as you wanted to get up and get ready quickly for the picnic.

your phone rang and jake's number lit up your phone's screen.

"yo jake, bro, homie, fella, how you doin" that was the weirdest thing you've ever, like eVER, said in your life.

"Y/N Y/L/N ARE YOU DRUNK THIS EARLY IN THE MORNING?!"

"of course no jakey, it's 11:29 am, the picnic is in two hours "

" uh uh uh- special picnic" jake emphasized special once again.

" oh well, guess I'll take more time to get ready since its spEcial" you said, mimicking the way he said special.

" I swear to our friendship, y/n, if you're not ready by the time I come to pick you up, consider yourself not my friend" he said sarcastically, adding a laugh at the middle of his sentence.

"oh well, it's your lucky day because I have just started getting ready!" you lied, you walked to your dresser and started searching for that one pair of brown corduroy pants jungwon suggested you wear.

"I'm hanging up jake, gotta go get ready, see you at 1 outside my house!" you hung up without giving him a chance to reply.

bingo

you finally found the pants, searching for a shirt now. you found a white blouse you had got last Halloween for a pirate costume but never wore it. It didn't look like a costume shirt anyway, you shrugged and got into the bathroom to take a shower and get ready afterwards.

You were done with your shower now, the time was 12 pm and you had an hour left before jake got to your place to pick you up.

You put on your clothes and matched a pearl necklace (which was, indeed, a gift by jake) with your outfit, you opted for some classic black converse high tops as for the shoe choice, and with that, your outfit was complete.

You headed downstairs to prepare your basket, full with snacks and fizzy drinks, also getting a light blanket with you, just in case.

You heard a car honk from outside and checked the time, it was 12 : 40, twenty minutes before jake should be here to pick you up. The same honking sound was heard again and you headed to the door to see if it was jake by any chance. It was jake indeed, you got your basket, your keys, sprayed some perfume on and left the house, not forgetting to lock the door behind you.

"well hello there, y/n"

you were ready to tell general kenobi literally at his face, the pun must've been intended as you had a star wars movie marathon some days ago.

"hello to you too, jakey"

You both got in the car and jake turned the music up, a song unknown to you playing on the radio. Jake seemed different today, he seemed nervous, something unusual to him.

"is everything okay jake?"

"yeah why?" he responded while he let out a small laugh.

"oh, nothing!"

The drive went by quickly, however jake had taken you to a place you thought you'd never see again, it was the place where you and jake had first met. A park filled with bushes and sunflowers, huge trees and benches along with wooden tables. You were on the verge of tears, left speechless, you opened the car's door, taking your basket and started running around the park laughing loudly. You were feeling truly happy.

Jake was watching from inside the car, deciding to open his door too, taking his own basket, locking the car and started running towards you.

After running around for some good minutes, you sat on bench and left your baskets on a wooden table, starting to set your food in order for your picnic to start.

You had started eating your second sandwich when jake interrupted you, making you put your sandwich down and turning your attention to him.

"yo y/n, do you remember those love letters you kept on receiving last year?"

"of course I do! I've been searching till this day! but what does that have to with our special picnic?"

"well, I'm the one who sent those letters" jake said, lowering his head and starting to fiddle with his hands.

"well, that was a good one!" you started laughing. Noticing the situation jake was in right now, it only meant one thing, "WAit, you're not joking?"

"not really" he said giggling sadly, lifting his stare and watching into your eyes. You extended your arms and reached out to hug him.

"why didn't you tell me?"

"wait, you really didn't know I liked you? The boys kept on telling that my crush on you was too obvious!" he said, looking annoyed by his friends that moment.

"I mean, you did throw a basket ball at me once that had, "let me take you out" all over it but I didn't think you meant thAT TAKING OUT" you said, laughing at the old memory you had remembered.

well, y/n, would you officially allow me to take you out?" he asked, a glowing happy slice on his face when he noticed your emotionless face, "on A DATE, I mean, not with a basket ball!" he added. With that, you burst into laughter and looked at him, showing him your brightest smile.

"of course I'll let you take me out, on a date, jake"

#bye this took so long to write sorry #enhypen #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen drabbles #enhypen x reader #jake sim #enhypen jake x reader #hope you like this even if its taken me to long to post it!

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queenmuzz · 3 years

Text

So, anyways, I saw something @liulyam had posted for Spardaverse a while back I DON'T KNOW HOW I MISSED THEIR WONDERFUL ART FORGIVE ME! Anyways, I saw specifically THIS piece of art, and it sent the brain juices into overdrive....

So, the same thing plays out everyday. Nero gets off the school bus and runs in, backpack flying, and tells his uncle excitedly about his day at school, before racing up the stairs to tell his dad the same thing, in the same adorably animated manner. Unfortunately, Vergil doesn’t respond the same way as Dante, sitting still, not even acknowledging that the boy is talking to him. Initially, Nero doesn’t mind, understanding his recently rescued father has been through a lot, and needs time and patience to recover. But as the months pass by, Dante notices that his nephew doesn’t run up the front steps as eagerly, his descriptions of school become shorter, paler. And most worryingly of all, Nero spends less and less time with Vergil, preferring to peek his head in the man’s room, sigh, and slowly make his way to his own room, closing the door sullenly.

“What’s going on Nero?” Dante takes the plunge and asks him one day, before the boy trudges up the stairs. “You haven’t been that rambunctious ball of energy lately.”

Nero kicks the worn hardwood floor. “It’s dad… I know you told me I need to be patient,” his face scrunches up at the word, it’s a thing he’s never been able to truly do. He’s definitely a Sparda boy. “But he just keeps ignoring me. He won’t talk, won’t even look at me. It’s like I don’t even exist! Maybe...maybe he doesn’t want me to exist-”

“Hey now!” Dante needs to nip this train of thought in the bud. He knows first hand where it can lead to. Had he not found Nero nearly nine years ago, while wandering the world, drinking up every bar’s entire inventory in a vain attempt to fill a void in his chest, who knows where he would have ended up? “Your dad...well, even without the stuff he’s been through, he was never much of a talker. Always preferred to have his actions speak for him.” “But that’s the thing, Uncle Dante!” Nero blurts out, close to tears. “He DOESN’T DO ANYTHING!!! He doesn’t care!” And with that, Nero bolts up the stairs, past Vergil’s room, not even checking up on him, and slams his bedroom door with such force, Eva’s portrait wobbles on the desk and tips over. Dante sighs, sets his mom back up, and slowly makes his way up the stairs. Not to Nero’s room; Dante knows better than to provoke that tiger cub when he’s in an ornery mood. It’s time to talk to his dad.

Vergil, or what’s left of him, is sitting in an oversized chair, the only one that fits his giant frame, facing the window, the only one in the place with a view. If he’s heard the ruckus (and Dante knows he has), he makes no indication that it affects him.

“Verg,” he calls out, “I know it's been rough, I know I piled on a lot of shit on you, the whole thing about having a kid and everything these past nine years. I’m not expecting you to just snap back to normal, and start insulting me like in the good old days, but…” Dante’s not good at this sort of thing. He’d rather Royal Guard his emotional turmoil. It used to be with alcohol, but now it’s with a cheery smile. “The kid needs a sign that you’re still there, you’re still fighting. I know you are, hell, you’re the one that helped me take down that bastard Mundus on Mallet Island. But that’s the thing, Nero’s only heard things that you’ve done, not seen them. You need to show him yourself, otherwise…” Vergil makes no motion, and even Dante, stubborn as he is, knows it’s fruitless to continue much more, “you’re gonna lose him too.” And then Dante heads back downstairs, to see if he can whip up a snack to bribe his nephew to come out of his lair. Strange, he swears he hears the rustle of fabric from Vergil’s room, as if his brother had just moved.

Nero sits at Dante’s desk, working on his math homework. It’s his least favourite thing, fractions. Uncle Dante is a whiz at them, and usually would be able to help him, but he’s gone out on an ‘Really quick, won’t be more than a half hour’ errand run. It’s been nearly two hours, and the only other adult here is his dad… so Nero is practically by himself.

Suddenly, the hairs on the back of Nero’s neck prick up, and he hears scrabbling at the front door. He’s still not allowed to go out with Uncle Dante or Auntie Lady on their hunts, but he knows what a demon feels like, especially when there are a lot of them. ESPECIALLY when they’re really powerful Instinctively, he grabs a chair, and wedges it underneath the door knob, and looks around in a panic. He’s never had to deal with a demon attack by himself before. He remembers his uncle has a case of weapons that he was told to NEVER touch beside the jukebox, but Nero figures that he can say sorry to his uncle later. He smashes the lock with a billiard ball, and yanks open the lid. He’s disappointed. He thought there would be a treasure trove of swords and guns, but all there are two swords, one red and one blue. But he doesn’t have much of a choice, and the whine of protesting wood ends with a thunderous CRASH, and demons pour through. “FIND THE HERETIC GOD SLAYER!” One says, before turning in Nero’s direction. Without much warning, it shrieks as it launches at him with razor sharp obsidian claws.

Nero might be little, but his uncle has trained him well. Whipping the two blades around, they connect the monster’s waist in a pincer move, and like a pair of scissors, bisect it in a shower of blood and ash. Nero swears he hears a voice (or is it two voices?) approvingly say, “Impressive!” but doesn’t have a chance to savour his very first demon kill as another demon comes at him, knocking him over. The reddish gold blade clatters away on the floor, way out of reach, not that it matters. Nero’s pinned to the ground by a skeletal foot, as the demon lifts a blade to impale him. He squeezes his eyes shut, preparing for the end.

The final blow never comes. Instead, he hears shriek, and the pressure on his chest instantly subsides. He opens his eyes, to see it stagger back, its decapitated head clattering to the floor. Its brethren likewise are either dead or dying, their high pitched screams shattering the glass in the jukebox.

Nero’s first thought is that his Uncle has finally come home, Dante’s come to save me! But what’s odd is that there’s no sound of Dante’s beloved Ebony and Ivory. And last he checked, his uncle never was able to shoot out blue ghostly blades that now impale most of the horde. But it doesn’t matter, because his uncle is here to save the day! That is, until he yelps as he’s quickly, but not roughly picked up and held as whoever holds him spirits him out of the building, the blue blade still clutched in his hand. Nero begins to panic, but hears a voice, almost like a croak, as if the vocal cords had been in disuse for years…

Nero

And even though the voice is harsh sounding, it's one of the most comforting things Nero’s ever heard.

Of course that half hour errand run would turn out to be three hours. But when he was promised a free pizza for clearing out that demon nest on the West side, Dante couldn’t say no. Besides, he’d pick up some freshly baked chocolate chip cookies on the way home as a way of apologising to Nero. The kid might be cross with him, but he’d forgive him the moment he smelled those chewy biscuits. Dante might even let him have more than half of the package.

So when he gets home to find his front door smashed open, his office trashed, and worst of all his jukebox shattered-wait no, worst of all, his nephew missing, all thoughts of pizza and cookies vanish from his mind as he rushes in, guns drawn. There’s no sign of life, but the black splatters of demonic ichor painting the walls shows that some real bad mojo went down here. The strangest thing though, is Agni, a weapon Dante was definitely sure he had under lock and key, laying there on the ground, alone.

“Alright, time to spill your guts” he yanks the blade up so that he’s at eye level with the pommel, “What the hell happened here?” Agni makes the same response as Vergil. Which means silence.

“I swear to…” he pulls out ivory, and presses the muzzle into the (more troubled than usual looking face), “You’re gonna tell me what went down, or we’re gonna see how many bullets I can jam into your ugly mug.” “You told us to remain silent.” He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, consider that rule temporarily relaxed.” “There was an attack.” Agni starts, its distorted voice unusually agitated, “The little one fought with great valour, but eventually even he was overwhelmed.” Dante’s blood goes cold. “But then a great bulk of a demon came out and slaughtered the attacking filth, and spirited the boy away, alongwith my brother.”

“Rudra’s still with Nero?” That’s odd, if they were trying to capture the kid, they’d disarm him first.

“Yes, they are not far, I think they’ve stopped moving.”

“Alright,” Dante makes his way out of the disfigured wood, “let’s go find the kid and your bro...and if he’s alright, maybe I’ll reconsider giving back your talking privileges.” “Oh, that would be wonderful, will you allow us to leave the dark box? It’s been so long since we’ve fought, we crave batt- ”

“I said IF, and I won’t guarantee anything if you keep jabbering on and on.”

Angi directs the demon hunter to a dark secluded alleyway, a few blocks from Devil May Cry. One hand on its hilt ready for attack, the other fingering the trigger of Ivory, he cautiously makes his way past the recently overturned garbage cans, to a shadow alcove, where a shadow crouches. Beside it is Rudra, glowing faintly, it’s turquoise blue light providing enough illumination for Dante to make out what has happened. There’s Nero, peacefully slumbering away, apparently unharmed, not even his shirt is torn. And holding him gently, stroking his downy white hair with a giant hand...is Vergil… And for once, even though he is still staring straight ahead, there’s a different look on his face, a sense of contentment.

Huh Dante thinks to himself as he holsters the weapons, I was right, actions DO speak louder than words.

#Devil May Cry #Nelo Dadgelo #Dante #Vergil #Nero #canon divergence #I didn't want to connect this to their post via reblog #because that should stand alone in its own perfection #my writing

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guiltysecretpasttime · 3 years

Text

Linzin Week 2021: Day 3 - Stargazing (part 3)

WIP Pre-Canon AU Lin x Tenzin Rating: Eventual M To the Linzin week 2021 organizers: Is it fine to post a WIP - a serialized contribution? Will post it in AO3 as well once completed ✌🏽 Read part 1 here.

Lin was looking forward to a quiet soak in the bath. She figured it was late at night enough that Tenzin would have retired to bed.

Upon opening the door, smoke wafted to her face. Something smelled… burned, she thought while coughing.

“Lin, is that you?” Tenzin’s voice came from the balcony.

“What happened?” Lin fanned away the smoke as she to him.

Tenzin was slouched on the outdoor chair, bottle of beer in hand. “I attempted to cook.” Tenzin’s face was pinched.

“Aw, you were supposed to have a dinner date?” She leaned on the doorway. “Scared the poor girl away?”

There was a strange look on the airbender’s face. “No…she didn’t show up.”

“I’m sorry.” She said and realized she was sincere about it. She pointed to him and waved to the still dissipating smoke. “Didn’t think to use airbending?”

“Oh.” Tenzin’s eyebrows furrowed. “To be honest, I wasn’t thinking straight.” Then he took a swig off the beer bottle.

Ah, it was that kind of night.

By all appearances, the airbender was a stickler for air nomad tradition. However, his parents both agreed to raised him and his siblings in a more liberal way. This resulted in the siblings to adapt any practices of their parents’ heritage into the quickly modernizing society.

And that includes the occasional alcoholic drink for this airbending master.

“How was work? A little bit late, isn’t it?”

“Terrible.” Lin slumped into the opposite garden chair and grabbed the bottle off Tenzin’s hand. “One of the detectives mucked up the paperwork. His sergeant and I had to work double time to meet the deadline for the indictment.” She took a gulp from the bottle before giving it back.

There was a relief in his expression that puzzled her.

“That’s grea- terrible indeed.”

She rolled her eyes. “Sarcasm still does not suit you, airhead.”

Tenzin continued to punctuate the otherwise quiet night air with comments about his day and questions about Lin’s.

They took turns from the bottle until Tenzin finished the last swallow. “This is nice.”

“Hmmm?”

“We haven’t had this long a conversation since... I don’t remember when.”

Huh.

Tenzin gestured to get more beer and she nodded.

She sat back, scratching her arm as she thought.

That was sad, in reality.

But nice. No expectations. Reverting to their old habits, their old patterns to before they became a couple.

She squinted.

That had been so long ago.

“Say, do you want to go up?” Tenzin held two bottles of bear, cold with icy condensation at its surface.

“I don’t see why not.” Lin stretched, took one bottle of beer then followed Tenzin to the rooftop.

There was no actual furniture on the rooftop, but there were some wooden crates that they had fashions into makeshift seats and tables.

Pulling up a crate, Lin remembered why they selected this apartment.

It was not in the more glamorous districts in the city. It was quite close to the suburbs, to be honest. That was something they both liked to have maybe in the future, a quaint quiet home in the suburbs. Until then, this is the closest they could get.

And well, they took it on because the apartment unit was at the top floor with easy access to the rooftop.

Tenzin settled little ways to the side, about two crates away from her.

She popped open both of their bottles.

“There isn’t a lot of stars tonight.”

A glance at Tenzin revealed he was observing the sky.

Lin simply shrugged. She knew him well enough to know that a Tenzin who has had alcohol is a talkative Tenzin.

“We were discussing about oral tradition earlier in class. One of the students shared about the Earth Kingdom superstition that you can actually use the stars to find your soulmate.” Tenzin hunched on his knees, picking at the label of the bottle. “Do you believe any of that?”

“Believe what?” She decided to humor him.

“Soulmates.” He replied quietly, not meeting her gaze.

“Soulmates…” Lin took a gulp of beer first, considering her words. “Can’t say I do.”

The airbender now turned to her. In his haste, his almost full bottle had liquid swished on the floor. “Why not?”

“I mean, look at people we grew up with,” Lin grimaced, using her fingers to count. “Uncle Sokka didn’t really settle down, did he? Was his soulmate the moon spirit? We can never know.” She took a tip and pointed out another finger. “My mom – we don’t even have to explain that further -.”

“But doesn’t the thought of someone out there to be with you sound, well, reassuring?”

“Not really. Sounds like a load of excuses not to put effort into a relationship since you knew from the get-go, you’re for each other.”

“So, you really don’t believe in soulmates?” Tenzin asked slowly.

“Pffft no, of course not. Soulmates? Oh, come on.” Lin decided a change in topic was needed as the current conversation was about to get maudlin.

---

He tore off the label of the bottle.

But, I do.

***

As with any of their annual vacations, aside from a day or two spent with the entire group, everyone was pretty much left to their own devices.

This made their farce a bit easier to pull off.

Tenzin decided early on to spend most of the time in their room. Lin was barely there anyway so it work.

Tock-tock-tock.

“I know you’re in there.”

Knowing that his brother will not leave until he acknowledged him, Tenzin opened the door.

Bumi entered without waiting to be invited in, hands behind his back. He made a face on the papers sprawled on the table and most of the other surfaces in the cabin room. “Come now, Tenzin – there’s a reason why it’s a vacation.”

“I need to get this done.” It was a weak argument, and he knew it.

Bumi knew it.

“We’ve seen more of Lin than you in the past few days. So that means you haven’t had a lot of couple time either.”

“We see each other all the time.” Tenzin prevaricated. Technically, they did occasionally cross paths at work.

---

Bumi rolled his eyes. “Sure – at work, eh? Well, if I can’t bring you out to the party – I’ll bring it here until to agree to get out.” He brought out his ammunition. “Uncle Sokka’s personal brew!”

Tenzin struggled to catch the tall suspicious (yet unfortunately familiar) bottle.

“I’m not drinking, Bumi.”

“Oh yes, you are.” He swiped the papers off the couch and plunked himself on it.

He did not really have any other agenda other than to get Tenzin relaxed enough to join them for tonight’s excursion.

Bumi grinned as his baby brother finally popped open his bottle.

---

But, whoo boy, a Tipsy Tenzin was a Talkative Tenzin.

---

“You’ve broken up for that long?! Spirits, Tenzin! Why didn’t you think to tell me or anyone?

“Look, I knew you were proposing to Izumi this week. We didn’t want to take that away from you.”

“Still.” Bumi pondered a bit. Maybe his brother needs a wingman now? “Do you want me to bring you over with boys, when we’re over at Republic City? We can introduce you or better yet, we can go around town now and -.”

“No, thank you, Bumi.”

“Don’t you still live together?”

“Yes.”

Are you stupid? “How is that going for you?”

“It’s fine. We’re now glorified roommates. It still gives me privacy from our parents, you know. And a bit of a sanctuary. And it’s fine. We do our own thing and it’s fine.”

“Bro, you said it’s fine too many times.”

“Lin’s totally fine with it.” A beat. “She’s a big girl, she can take care of herself. It’s not like she’d like to move back to their old house either.”

Bumi frowned but agreed.“To be fair – no one asked us about our relationship so we haven’t been lying.”

“Yes, you’ve been omitting the truth. I see you’re fitting really well in city hall, councilman.” Bumi patted him on the back.

---

Clunk.

“Oh, I’m sorry – did I wake you?”

The whiff of air that wafted towards him smelt of smoke, sweat, the odd smell of old alcohol, and something distinctly Lin.

“No, I was doing –.” His eyes scanned quickly the bedside table. “Some light reading.” He put up the pamphlet. “You didn’t disturb me.” He saw the clock say it was three in the morning.

“Sorry,” Lin was quickly pulling out clothes from her side of the cabinet. “Don’t worry – I’ll just take a quick shower and try not make a lot of noise. I’ll head on to bed too.”

Tenzin turned to his side of the bed, unwilling to think of what (or who, he thought distastefully) Lin might have been doing.

Not that she wasn’t in the position to do so. Of course, she was well within in her rights to do so.

Maybe telling Bumi wasn’t the smartest idea. True, he promised to keep it to himself.

Rather, Tenzin knew Bumi and the rest had gotten back to their accommodations a couple of hours earlier (judging by the racket when they were trudging nearby).

Usually, Bumi would have insisted to see to it that all of their party would have gone home together. But then again, knowing that Lin was now single, he probably did not mind if Lin had gone off on her own…

The sounds of the shower from the en suite can be heard.

Tenzin pressed his palms to his eyes.

He told Bumi it was fine.

Who was he kidding – it wasn’t fine. He wasn’t fine.

And, unfortunately, he didn’t know what to do about it since only one-half of the broken-up couple did not seem to be fine.

#linzin #linzin fanfic

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hyucksong · 5 years

Text

nct dream as roommates

a/n: *romantically calls you bro*

lee mark

the roommate that walked in on you taking a shower on the first night you moved in and avoided you for a week afterward

he even went as far as browsing different apartments to live in because baby boy was too afraid to face you

sometimes wakes up before you and he always prepares your coffee or tea and sets it by your bed for you when you wake up…sometimes sits on the edge of your bed to watch you

asks you to do his laundry because he doesn’t know how to separate the colors

you’re fine with doing them because he tries his absolute bestest with everything else, and it’s so cute

the first time he did the laundry you were sick…and you got a whole new wardrobe of pink clothing the next day

always does the dishes and you do the laundry…he’ll clean the living room and kitchen if you clean the bathrooms…he’ll go grocery shopping…only if you go with him

asks you to do his hair when he meets up with his friends, and if you say no he says “okay” and then pouts until you agree

you really like photography but hiring models is expensive so you always ask mark to model for you

and he always agrees, blushing while doing so

make-up artists are expensive too, so you also get him dressed up and add whatever you want to his face

(once you did a fairy photoshoot and he had freckles and pink cheeks and your heart did the thing)

this time you need him to sit still for hours because it's supposedly a big photoshoot with a few other photographers coming too, so there’s a lot of looks to get through

you do the first look before you get to the photo site to save time

he thinks nothing of you curling his hair until he looks up at you and time slows as his heart stops…

because you smell like vanilla and your nose is scrunched in concentration…because your breathing is heavy as you run to the bathroom to get more things before you’re late…

because you’re biting your lip while looking at him, admiring your own work, proud of the way the make-up came out, but a little disheartened because it looked like you put a little too much blush (even though you only put a little)

and mark thinks,,, oh no

fuck

huang renjun

your best friend since you were a child

you’re used to ‘living with him’ because you practically lived with him as a kid; you were always at his house spending the night or vice versa

he wakes you up an hour after he gets up because ‘he needs his peaceful time’

claims that ‘you’re the worst person to live with’ but refuses to look for another apartment because ‘no one else can handle you but me’

(in reality, he knows that there will never be anyone else he’ss comfortable with as you)

he wakes you up by throwing a pillow in your face and or flopping on your bed next to you and bouncing a few times

once got really scared because you weren’t waking up no matter what he did, and when he started to tear up you opened your eyes and pushed him off the bed

you just didn’t want to be woken up that day and tried to ignore him, but apparently, you ignored him for too long because he genuinely freaking out on the inside

he’s watched ‘what’s eating gilbert grape’ okay he was SCARED

he didn’t talk to you for three days after that....only started to wake you up again because you made the effort to wake up before him and make him breakfast in bed with hot tea

he expected you to leave his room after you gave it to him, but you just looked at him for a minute before sitting on the bed next to him, getting under the covers with him

he focused on the fact you were taking up all the space instead of the now-familiar thrum of his heartbreak against his ribcage

(he’s felt it for the past fewyears, he’s gotten used to drowning it out)

“y/nnnnnnn what are you doingggggg”

“shut up i made the breakfast, can’t i at least sit next to my favorite boy?”

...he’s your favorite boy?...okaythatwasreallycutebuthe’llneveradmitit

“o...kay...”

blushes when you lay your head on his shoulder in bed, watching whatever he’s doing on his phone, because your cheek is warm against his shirt and its bleeding through onto his skin and weiowioegfhowieh

but also yells at you when you take a bite of his toast and bolt out of the room, giggling

“yAH y/N”

lee jeno

the roommate that was awkward for the first month because he didn’t really want to room with a girl because then he can’t spend saturday with the boys

then he brought them home one day without telling you and was expected to get his ass Whopped but you were drinking vodka and crying while watching Cars so

yeah you were the perfect roommate for him

you drink together

saturday may be for the boys but sunday is for drinking your problems away with your roommate

can’t cook but will make BOMB desserts for you both every friday...also fridays are pizza nights and you both order a large cheese pizza with ranch on the side and a pint of dr.pepper

yall have the same diet but he has a six-pack and you don’t so you call bullshit on health and everything it is

both of you fall asleep on the couch all the time, TV still playing the game soundtrack with the controllers on the floor, blinking from low battery

jeno alwayswakes up before you, and he doesn’t admit it, but he loves to watch you sleep

you just look so...ethereal

even with the drool

ANYWAY

you are one of the bros...he’s even taken a shit when you took a shower before -- that’s how close you are

then one day you get dressed up real pretty and he’s making fun of you, laughing “you never look this nice who’s holding you at gunpoint”

“i’m going on a date jeno hop off my DICK”

“,,,what”

immediately felt defensive and was questioing who could like you and why you were going on a saturday night when it was busy on the streets and also please call the guy and cancel the date because he wants to watch toy story with you and eat pasta why are you going out with someone has he met him why haven’t you told jeno about this guy you know what you should just not go

and it’s when you walk out the door rolling your eyes, promising to be back home before 9pm with a cute shirt on and nice perfume on when jeno realizes

that damn he hates to see you leave,,,but he loves to watch you go

(and he might have the teeniest, weeniest crush on you)

lee donghyuck

the type to never clean the dishes and always makes you do them even if he cooks because he hates the feeling of wet food

then one day he sees you v e r y stressed over school work and he just...cleans the whole house

you come back from the library and you’re like,,,the fuck where’s haechan and what have you done with him

in turn, you buy him a headset that he’s been wanting for the past year...and you think he’s about to propose to you after you give them to him

but in all reality he’s just so happy that you even remembered something so trivial...like he talking about them once (1) and you remembered?

...cute bitch

he’s a big prankster, but in an endearing way, so whenever he goes too far you never really stay mad because he’s just a little unaware of the anger his pranks cause

plus you always get back at him

always :)

you both are basically the same people; you’re passionate about your studies and he’s passionate about gaming and dancing

yall are the bad bitches that no one messes with

BET that yall wear matching fits whenever you two go out together

you get together to watch his favorite youtubers do let’s plays of popular games

one day yall sit down to watch some outlast 2

and boy

did you underestimate the scare factor

so now you’re three episodes deep into the let’s play and your head is buried in haechans stomach because you’re laying down facing away from the TV, clinging to the poor boy

he doesn’t know if his heart is beating so fast because of the jumpscare or because of the way you look up at him when you ask if the scary part is over yet

he doesn’t like seeing you scared with tears in your eyes...but the way you’re clinging to him makes him want to watch a thousand more scary episodes...

...if it means you’ll cuddle with him

na jaemin

the best roommate you could ever ask for

he loves to clean and cook, not to mention he’s an absolute sweetheart!!!!!!!

you started to live with him because you had posted an ad on a website for a roommate and he sent back a reply

but the texts used so many of (=｀ω´=) these emojis you just assumed it was a girl

he was not

every night before you go to bed, he’ll walk into your room and whisper “good night, sleep well” to you before petting you head and walking out

people always wonder if you’re dating, but you always reply that it’s just the way he is

until one night you invite your (asshole) project partner to your apartment and she flirts with him endLESSLY,,, not doing her work or anything, just talking with jaems

like it’s pissing you off, and you think it’s pissing him off, and you’re about to send her home when you notice the storm outside and you realize,,,, you’re too good of a person to do that

so she sleeps on the couch, and you do the same, just so you can keep an eye on her and so that she isn’t left alone with jaemin at any point (poor boy looked like he’s about to combust if she tries to talk to him again)

and jaemin does his usual routine even with the extra company, stroking your head and even going as far as to place a kiss on your forehead

“what about me, do I get a kiss” the girl annoyingly asked

“no, you’re not yn” and hE WALKS AWAY AND CLOSES THE DOOR TO HIS ROOM

there’s silence in your head as you process his words, a little shocked and confused as to what he means, but most of all, your thoughts consist of;

oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit

you might have just fallen for him (let’s face it, you’ve been in love with him (just not as long as he’d been in love with you))

zhong chenle

not going to lie, you two did NOT get along in the beginning

you were each other’s first roommates, and you knew he was extroverted, but you underestimated the differences between your personalities

like,,, no please don’t invite the dreamies over again for the eighth time this week I can’t focus on homework with all the screaming

but even with all the head-butting, the chores are split evenly because he’s practicing to ‘be marriage material for his future wife’

you don’t care as long as he just does what he’s supposed to, and you two aren’t exactly the closest

but there are times when you connect, like on lazy Sunday afternoons where you both just relax on the couch...anywaY

and he always rolls his eyes, telling you that ‘you need to stop being a hermit and make some friends’

‘get some confidence’

‘why don’t you put any effort into how you dress’

it hurts a little...you know you’re not the prettiest and you don’t really try anyway

but to have it pointed out to you just...stings

and after a guy rejects you (after you built up courage for a whole years to confess to him) your confidence is at an all-time low (he said no because ‘you were too bland’ like wtf fUCk you)

and you’re just crying and eating spaghetti o’s, telling chenle as oon as you walk into the door that you’re ‘too sensitive for his bullshit today’

to which chenle doesn’t care... then he sees your puffy eyes and asks wha happens

you tell him, and he just gets...angry

(and jealous?)

he goes on a tangent, mocking the guy, saying that ‘you’re the most doen-to-earth natural beauty’ he’s ever seen and that ‘any guy who doesn’t fall in love with your cute sarcastic personality’ is dumber than a rock

he grumbles for the rest of the night, sitting and watching movies with you; it makes your heart swell that he’s getting so mad for you

and at the end of the mini-movie night, and he strokes your hair saying that you’re ‘his little introvert’,

you decide that ‘opposite attract’ is 100% true

(and chenle notices that you have very pretty lips)

park jisung

you two are dorm roommates at a dance school, and y’all are so cute all the teachers LOVE you

like you both just spend so much time together it’s ridiculous

yall walk to class together, then from class to class together, eat lunch together, after school activities, walk back to the dorms, meet each other’s friends, go out on the weekends together...everything

it feels weird to not be with him

(the teachers have a bet that you’ll be dating before your senior year)

the dorm is just a studio apartment with two bedrooms (your parents both pay a lot for space)

so chores aren’t too hard, in fact, you both usually spend the last few hours of daylight on Sunday nights straightening up your apartment from the hectic week before, to start off completely fresh and new

nothing big ever happens on Sundays around the home, but one day jisung (who went to hang out with chenle (he invited you but you pouted and said you had too much hmwk)) found a little puppy on the side of the road

and then proceeded to sneak into the dorms with it, hiding it under his shirt

when he showed you what he found, you couldn’t be mad...it was just so cute (both jisung’s little smile and the puppy)

but you noticed it was shivering, and you whined, ‘jisung you didn’t even notice it was cold oH My GoD, go get it some water and food’ while you set up a nest of blankets for the little guy

hours later when the puppy had eaten and subsequently fallen asleep in your lap, you turned to jisung

‘let’s name it mousie’

‘what that’s dumb’

‘it’s not dumb! i wanna name it that because it looks like you whenever you sleep! it's so cute hehehe’

you thought jisung was WHAT when he slept

jisung didn’t talk for a whole minute, drinking in your words and thinking about them over and over again, in the meantime you were just smiling down at the puppy

your cheeks were red with happiness and your nose was a little red from sneezing (because the puppy was covered in pollen from being outside) and your gaze was filled with such love that jisung shivered

you let out a sigh and plopped your head on his shoulder, and all his feelings he’d ever had for you exploded in his chest, and he tensed (though if you noticed, you didn’t day anything)

you just kept and petting the dog

and damn did jisung want to be that dog

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missinghan · 4 years

Text

to my youth ⤖ lee felix

❖ genre : summer au; high school au; fluff

❖ word count : 11,6k.

❖ warning : explicit language, slow burn

❖ summary : it is official that life hates you because not only was your first few days of summer ruined by a stupid field trip, but things also got somewhat freaky… whatever kind of ‘freaky’ you’re thinking about.

❖ note : i know i said i’m ‘experimenting’ with new stuff but guess who’s back with another mediocre, not-that-well-written mess of a domestic au; please (kindly) yell at me to dabble into a new genre after bearing through this fic- happy reading!

one.

The echoes of your summer days remain as flowers immune to the winter chill, they say.

You’re not entirely sure who even fathomed their time and effort to come up with that statement but from your point of view, those flowers would most likely have either died out from the summer heat or withered horrendously because of the arbitrary showers of rain. Or you’re the only one who doesn’t have the luxury to see life through a rose-colored lens.

Because the first thing that comes to mind for you is the bucket of ice-cream and a YouTube OG that you’ve ceased to finish since finals started two weeks ago. The bell rings, pens down, everyone pours out of the classroom after handing in their exam papers. No one really bothers to check up on each other’s answers anymore; the last subject for today was AP Psych and you don’t know about them but you honestly can’t care any less thereafter cramming the entirety of five chapters.

Sprinting down the staircase, you easily spot Felix amongst the midst of drowsy high school students for the bright color of his hair. He truly believes that if he slaps enough hair essence and coconut oil on his head four times a week, his hair won’t feel like straws when he changes it every other three weeks. But it’s only a matter of time before balding catches up to him, he’ll learn eventually.

“Please don’t tell me that you left your keys in class,” you sigh upon the sight of him fumbling with his folders and textbooks while trying to open his locker in vain. Just thinking about walking all the way back to the third floor makes you want to use your backpack as a pillow and take a nice nap in the middle of the hallway.

“Gee, Y/N,” Felix makes a face to not show the sense of relief washing over him when he locks eyes with you. “Who do you take me as? A clumsy person?”

“No, just a dumbass.” You coldly snatch a slipping book from his arms before turning to twist the disc in the combination of your birthday until the lock clicks, shaking the shackle off to swing his locker open. It’s a silent tradition that you both set each other’s birthday as your locker’s combination since elementary school; it started out as a stupid joke at first but neither of you really bothered to change it.

“Why the hell would you put your keys in the locker?” you widen your eyes in disbelief as he grabs the bright yellow Spongebob plushie to collect his keys with a shit-eating grin

“My alarm didn’t go off today, so I was running a little late,” he defends himself while dumping everything out of his backpack, hugging an empty water bottle to his side.

You throw a wave at a very tired Hyunjin walking side by side with Seungmin on his right and Jisung skipping happily towards your direction. Seungmin looks exceptionally moody today, you pray he didn’t mess up an easy question to take it out on all of you later in the car. “Bet you were staying up late to play Overwatch with Chan.”

Felix manages to grin stiffly at your comment, turning on his heels and trudges onto the school’s parking lot. “Fine, walk home.”

“Hey, you forgot to lock this!” you pull his steps into a halt by making a grab for his hand, utterly oblivious at how his cheeks flare up with a bright shade of red at your touch. Or out of embarrassment. Whatever, same thing.

Felix might be a better driver than you, but he’d be fired ten seconds into the job of a babysitter.

With that being said, when Jeongin decides it’s a good idea to cheer a passive-aggressive, post-exams Seungmin up with a carton of strawberry milk and then proceeds to get lost in his own school, the very same school he’s been attending for who knows how long, you’re the one who manually pulls his ass back into Mrs. Lee’s Jeep within ten minutes.

And Seungmin has already fallen asleep by the time Jeongin’s back, so now he’s the passive-aggressive one while sipping on the milk bitterly. Either way, this is why you headcount although there are only six of you after Changbin starts getting busy with his college applications.

“What took you so long?” Jisung looks up from his phone the moment you climb into the passenger’s seat, clicking in your seatbelt (drive safe, kids).

You immediately feel the need to snap a photo of Jeongin accidentally breaking the cafeteria’s door with the staff running towards him in a panic. They’re more scared for his life than the door itself and that’s… sweet to say the least but with the way that the embarrassed boy is glaring at you through the rear-view mirror, you decide to keep your lips sealed.

“It’s getting dark so all hallways start to look the same, you genius.”

Jisung momentarily sticks his tongue out at you. “God, you’re so rude to me. You’d never talk to Felix like that.”

“Because,” you drawl. “Lix is a pure-hearted angel descended from the realms of Heaven. Whereas, even Lucifer would see you as an eyesore in hell.”

“See! You’re doing it again!” Jisung points a finger at you in accusation, jumping up and down in his seat but no one really cares. It’s not like you’re speaking any false facts. “Stop bullying me!”

Seungmin shifts his body a little, nose scrunched up at the noises that wake him right up. “Jisung,” he warns his friend without opening his eyes. “Sit the fuck down, you have five seconds.”

Felix smirks when Jisung immediately cowers, slumping and leaning himself against Hyunjin in utter defeat. He learned not to mess with Seungmin after throwing a wallet at him on impulse. “Jealous much, Han?”

“Nah, she’s all yours bro,” Jisung waves it off tiredly; bickering and making fun of Felix’s gigantic crush on you is too much for his brain to process today. He can really use a long, solid twelve-hour summer hibernation after getting home.

The statement prompts Felix to look over at you when there’s a red light—the same exact moment as you stop staring at the bakery from across the road to lock eyes with him. There’s a little spark igniting at the pit of his stomach, stirring up butterflies inside his rib cage. But he snaps out of it after seeing you raise a brow at him, implying a silent ‘what?’ before turning away again. Felix has always been the type to stare so you don’t bother to think about it too much.

The problem is: he only stares at you that way.

A shade of coral creeps its way up to his cheeks, his gaze averting back on the roads when the light turns green. As Felix tries to calm the erratic tempo of his heartbeat, he also thinks about how much time he’d have left to confess before high school is over and everyone takes their own different paths. Then again, the future is far too blurry for him to make out anything and the thought of changes petrifies him a bit too much.

Felix wishes to hold your hand until the very end but he’s a little scared...because what if you never wanted to be with him in the first place?

two.

Your brother has one talent, and that’s his ability to irritate the living daylight out of you even when he’s practically on the other side of the planet.

Minho (un)fortunately finished his finals with flying colors, and inevitably, you’re the first victim to receive a series of texts that consisted of nothing but self-indulgent, excessive bragging. Basically, he’s allowed to do whatever slash go wherever for a good three weeks before his summer internship begins, dragging his dumb ass back to hell—where he rightfully belongs.

He’s probably chomping on a terribly unhealthy amount of pizza, pretzels, and any type of New York street food that you can name from the top of your head. It’s not like he’s paying for them anyway since Chan doesn’t allow people to touch their wallets if they happen to eat out with him.

Your phone vibrates obnoxiously on your desk, the judder slightly muffled because it’s lying on top of your wide-open psych textbook. You haven’t bothered with cleaning up yet; finals only ended yesterday and you decide that you won’t touch anything until the disarray starts to scrape against your nerves.

Side note: you’ve specifically told everyone not to call you three consecutive days after finals because yes, you’re that much of a loner, and yes, your stamina level for tolerating human interaction is awfully low.

Second side note: no one ever listens.

“Good morning, this is Lee Minho’s personal bullshit pail,” you mumble after your thumb swipes against the screen to pick up, your limbs curled up on the floor. “How can I possibly help you today?” Your morning voice isn’t necessarily threatening but rather scary; according to what Minho claimed, it sounds identical to that creepy girl from The Grudge so he groans aloud, his voice suddenly going out of focus on the other line from pulling his phone away.

“Jesus Christ are you still in your hermit phase after finals?” he questions callously, sounding not at all pleased with the way you greeted him. “Where’s mom and dad? Usually, they would have slammed your ass by now for staying inside like a vampire.”

“Don’t be insufferable, it’s only like…” you trail off while bending forward to take a good look at the little Sumiko Gurashi alarm on your bookshelf that Felix gave you during middle school. “Nine thirty-something and they’re at the park to exercise, duh- why do you care?”

Your brother almost sings on the phone, “Because you’re my little baby sister-” And this prompts you to pull the device away for the sake of your poor ear. It doesn’t help when you’re already surrounded by a group full of obnoxiously loud individuals on a daily basis. Not trying to call anyone out but Han Jisung is at the top of the list, his name in bold, capital letters being circled and underlined multiple times with a red marker.

“Who do I gotta kill to sleep in on a dreadful Sunday morning as any normal, cranky, antisocial high school student would?” you deadpan and rub the bridge of your nose dreadfully.

“I don’t know, go murder Jisung or something.” Honestly, that’s tempting… but no.

You can physically see the smug smile on his face right now, simpering in delight at your imminent misery. He knows goddamn well about your relationship with sleeping schedules and that’s the perfect excuse for him to ruin those little specks of time when your brain cells are getting an actual break.

These are also the times when you wish phones don’t fucking exist.

“By the way, are you gonna go on the field trip tomorrow?”

This question wakes you up almost completely because your eyes are now wide as a fish’s out of water, your hand automatically putting him on speaker before digging through the folders inside your backpack. What field trip? No one said anything about a field trip. And who thought it’s a good idea to force some worn-out, post-exams, sleep-deprived students into a field trip right after finals?

Minho hums coyly when the only response he’s getting is the rustling sound from your backpack, “Hmm, see what I meant there, little sis? Oh, the downside of living under a rock at its finest.” He doesn’t have to be here for you to fully picture the way that his lips curl up, dark brows wiggling whenever he’s right about something. Your brother wins most of the time against other people but overtaking you is an entirely different story.

“Oh screw off and go buy yourself a sense of humor.”

“Don’t be so mopey, isn’t Felix gonna be there?”

“What does Felix have to do with this?” you grit after managing to pull out a piece of paper from the very back, buried under countless of your essays. And it reads ‘field trip’ in caps at the top with tomorrow’s date right beneath. The trip lasts for three days, you’re going camping with the grizzly bears for three days—a total nightmare, basically.

“Pfft, you’re actually dense for someone with a sparkly report card,” he sneers. “That kid has been crushing on you since elementary school. Are the signals that fucked up?”

“You mean when I accidentally spilled orange juice over his head? Sure, bet that’s why he’s so head over heels for me,” you snicker, unfazed by these kinds of statements. Minho only knows Felix because he was the president of your school's dance club and you fully believe that your brother is simply trying to mess with your malfunctioning, cranky mindset.

“I fucking beg to differ, he always stares at you like you’re the love of his life, even when you stupidly poked yourself with a needle,” Minho announces as if he’s a love expert, tsk, amateur. “He might just confess during the trip, who knows? Campfire flickering. Sharing the same s’mores. Surrounded by nature. That sounds romantically ideal to me for a confession.”

He’s visioning everything like a terrible cliché film where two high schoolers stubbornly deny their feelings for each other until they start noticing how cute the other person is while magically being forced to be alone together. The worst kind of high school movie—which is also almost every high school movie. And you best believe that you’d a hundred percent kick your brother’s ass off that director’s chair because people live and breathe for this kind of overused entertainment. Tragic.

“Alright, fuck this, I’m out-“

“Wait!” Minho exclaims out of nowhere, almost blowing up your eardrums. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”

You swear you’re rolling your eyes so hard, they’re about to fall out of their respective sockets. “Well, obviously,” you put the piece of paper down with a sigh, contemplating ways to minimize the amount of socializing in the upcoming three days. “Haven’t you bothered me enough? No?”

“You can’t leave me like this,” he whines in an annoyingly high-pitched voice that sends chills down your spine.

“You need me, we’re connected.”

He sounds like a whack version of Minnie Mouse for a second there, the kind of plushie that looks cute but with disturbingly creepy voice audio; no parents would let their children go near that aisle.

You yawn as if there’s no tomorrow, stretching your limbs tiredly. “What I need is for you to shut the fuck up and leave me alone so I can go on my merry way to pick up snacks for this stupid field trip,” you utter lifelessly.

“You hurt my feelings,” Minho pretends to clutch onto his chest and lets out a dramatic gasp, his voice doused in pure sarcasm. “What a heartbreaker, Y/N.” Said the one who always keeps his apathetic front up like a fortress’ wall and tosses every single love letter on Valentine’s Day into the recycling bin, handing the chocolate out to his classmates like he’s giving leftover vegetables to his least favorite relatives.

“Oh, I can tell,” you reply with fake enthusiasm and mock empathy. “You know how I can tell?”

“Do not finish th-”

“Cause we’re connected.” With that you hang up, slamming your phone harshly onto the surface of your textbook.

three.

You might love your room a little too much, it’s getting somewhat unhealthy.

It was furnished with a rather meager budget after your family moved out of your hometown when you stepped into elementary school. Things stay the same, well, most of it as time passes by you unknowingly. Your sad bookcase used to exist for one sole purpose—carrying countless books and plushies has now been upgraded with too many polaroids of your dumb group of friends, a neatly framed photo of Class of 2020 and two trophies that don’t even belong to you since Minho ran out of space as he kept participating in random dance competitions.

The morning beams find their way through your white curtains and stain your walls with patches of yellow, eventually bugging your vision until you successfully convince yourself to either 1) wake up and get ready for school or 2) lazily stride across your room to shut the blinds completely so you can head back to bed. It’s summer… so option one is temporarily non-existent for a solid three months.

Hey, you’re just simply making up for those all-nighters with a new cup of coffee every two hours.

Speaking of your bed, it’s soft but takes up so much space to the point that Hyunjin keeps complaining about not having enough room for his legs when he’s sprawled across the floor with Jisung, vigorously focusing on a presentation’s outline. Seungmin calls you lame for not throwing away your childhood plushies and letting them hog at least one-third of your bed, but Felix doesn’t mind since he always needs something to hug. All the more reasons why you can only trust Felix.

You might miss having those idiots being loud and invading your personal space...maybe.

Your phone rings for the second time that morning when you’re walking downstairs, shoving your keys into your pocket and grabbing a protein bar on the counter. “I’m not in the mood for your bullshit right now, Minho,” you bark into the device, chewing on your breakfast aggressively, not bothering to look at the caller’s ID.

The closest convenience store is only twenty minutes away from your house but there’s a sticky note on the fridge from your mom, reminding you that she needs eggs to bake cupcakes for her company’s twentieth anniversary while your dad is running low on his Red Bulls. Basically, you’re in distress. It’s not like your dad should be inhaling those sugary drinks on a daily basis and your mom can just buy premade goods from the bakery. But there are more options for snacks at the supermarket…

“Y/N, the fuck?” The response of a voice as deep as the Pacific ocean almost makes you choke on air. “Did I wake you up or something?” Felix sounds flabbergasted on the other line, slightly taken aback. You almost feel bad because he’s the only sweetheart in your chaotic squad (besides Chan, obvi) except when he stays up late gaming with Hyunjin, pleading for your notes the next morning with puppy eyes.

“No, Minho did,” you grumble before tossing the wrapping into a bin.

“You don’t say,” Felix replies flatly, but his voice soon grows merry again after pushing the topic of your brother aside. “Oh, and I’m coming over to return your earphones, wanna grab breakfast?”

He practically lives ten minutes away from you, sees you almost every day even if it’s the weekend since he can’t stay in the same house with his sisters for too long and puts you on FaceTime every night to prevent himself from slacking off on assignments. The only time he didn’t get to see you for a week straight was when he visited Australia and accidentally dropped his phone into the ocean. It was a rough week without you nagging him for doing something stupid. Fundamentally, he’s merely making up more excuses to spend time with you after finals.

Chuckling, “Only if you’re treating me, I’m about to go broke from buying snacks for our field trip tomorrow.” you say breezily.

And you’re only telling him that because he might just pay for your snacks as well since Felix Lee eats freshly grilled steak and mashed potato for breakfast. Baffling, absolutely. Plus, he works at a boba shop every summer either way and he would never hesitate to spend the entirety of his paycheck on any of his close friends. Irrelevant but the point is: you kinda don’t wanna go out alone today.

Or you’re just in the mood to go with Felix. That’s a useless statement since you both see each other at least ten out of twenty-four hours per day.

“By the way, you know what I just realized?” Felix smacks his palm on his forehead. “This is our last field trip, like ever.”

Walking over to the rack of shoes down the hallway, you let out a large exhale. “That’s unfortunate on your behalf. I, on the other hand, don’t have a problem with that,” you tell him with zero consideration, your brain cells too busy picking out a pair of shoes to process the five basic steps to empathize with another human being.

“No,” he emphasizes helplessly. “I meant, it’s like our last high school field trip. We’re graduating next year, no time to sleep with the grizzly bears again.”

You can only manage to utter, “Oh.” Shit, college is right around the corners.

“Jesus fucking Christ what the hell am I supposed to do after high school? Stay here? Go abroad? Wait, aren’t applications for going abroad supposed to be turned in a year beforehand? Why are you only telling me this now!?”

Felix laughs wholeheartedly through the phone, amused at your sudden outburst. “Y/N, calm down. You’re going to college, not prison,” he brushes it off casually but in a way, college is technically prison. Slaving over a degree while working part-time jobs, chasing time relentlessly like you’re driving in the middle of a foggy night with one headlight out. And you’re forced to open up with more strangers. It’s terrifying, actually terrifying. And you’re not the type to be easily terrified.

Now come to think about it, you don’t get why you were so pressed about it five seconds ago. It’s a good opportunity not to leech off your parents as much, like dabbling, taking one baby step at a time into adulthood. After that, you’ll graduate again, probably settle somewhere with an adequate job and find someone, starting to think about having ki-

Hold up, you’re going too far. You’re barely a senior.

“I guess we’ll just have to make the most out of this summer,” Felix’s voice snaps you back to the surface of Earth faster than a tick of a clock. “We’re outside, by the way. Open up.”

That fast? Furrowing your brows, you hang up to slip into a pair of sneakers before sprinting to the front door. Wait, your hand freezes as it grazes the doorknob. We?

Not again.

“Why the fuck..” you cracks a lifelessly crooked smile after pushing the door wide open. “..are you here?” It’s only ten in the morning, and you don’t think you should be screaming at the top of your lungs to be jumped on by the whole neighborhood.

Felix takes a step back, a little scared for his life. “Uhh, to return your earphones?”

“No, no,” you run a hand through your hair tiredly. Just when you thought this day was gonna be peaceful. “I’m not talking about you, I’m talking about them. Since when was this an agreement? How dare-“

“Why yes, I missed you too!” Jisung exclaims like the little shit he is, throwing an arm over your neck to ruffle your hair. No one ruffles your hair without getting their ass slammed- except for Minho. “Why the long face? Let me guess, until this exact second, you thought there’s a fucking squirrel, a lama, a dog, and a kitten standing at your front porch? No, it’s us, your Forever BFFs.” He’s one of the reasons why you refuse to understand the humans’ language sometimes.

With a harsh shove from you, Jisung staggers backward only for Hyunjin to prevent him from rolling like a ball in the middle of your neighborhood. “One more word and I’m telling the whole class who your crush is,” you threaten, earning an involuntary snort from Seungmin.

“I hate to admit this, but she might actually say yes if he makes the first move.”

Hyunjin supplies unconstructively, “That’s why he didn’t ask.”

“You know what, Hwang,” Felix says with a smirk tugging at his lips, bumping his fist against Hyunjin’s without turning his head.

“Oh screw all of you.” Jisung’s getting all the attention he wanted this early in the morning yet he still feels like a loser. Perhaps he should try shutting up once in a while.

four.

“Thanks for giving me a ride, uncle, you really didn’t have to,” Felix says generously from your dad’s back seats, scratching the nape of his neck as though this is the first time he’s ever shared a ride with you.

He’s too humble sometimes you just want to smack him across the face with a pillow to stop being so formal with your dad. Heck, Felix downright called him ‘dad’ by accident once during a Christmas dinner back in middle school and your dad even encouraged him to keep addressing him like that.

Not to mention, Felix is chomping on a turkey sandwich that your mom made this morning specifically for him after finding out that his parents are currently out of town and there's nothing but ramen in the cabinet. God forbids her to starve the same kid who helped your dad fix his bumper. So really, he should be expecting these things by now.

“Oh it’s not a big deal, you’re too nice,” your dad laughs as he pulls over to your school’s front gate, careful not to run into that one really tall, ugly tree. You’re lowkey paranoid that people might die if it collapses during a storm or something. “Perhaps you can return the favor by getting a drink with me sometimes.”

Felix blinks numerous times, slightly gobsmacked. “...but I’m not old enough to drink yet.”

“Correct answer.” And you snicker when your dad turns around to toss a wink at your friend’s direction. “Doesn’t mean that I’m forbidding you kids have fun,” he clarifies upon the baffled expression on Felix’s face. “But not too much fun, got it?”

“Okay, okay dad, I’ll see you in three days,” you shake your head before climbing out of the car. “Don’t starve the cats while I’m gone. Oh! And Soonie still needs his lactobacillus-“

Your dad brushes it off with a sheepish smile, “I’ll leave it to your mom, muffin, I can’t even remember which dry food is for which cat. I also don’t think they’ll be starving anytime soon, those little demons are getting quite fat actually since your brother spoils them all the time.” You can only give him a mere eye-roll because as much as he claims to hate having pets, there have been countless times when you caught your dad red-handed trying to tuck the cats into bed in the middle of the night.

Felix soon catches up with your steps after bidding him farewell, crumpling the sandwich wrapper in his palm. “Wait up, muffin,” he says breathlessly with a few skips, starting to think about not skipping dance practice again this summer before his body gets out of shape.

“Shut up,” you grumble, followed by a harsh elbow jabbed into his side. Felix grunts in pain, slowing down a little but still tries to walk side by side with you nonetheless. “You don’t deserve that complimentary breakfast, I’m telling mom to cut your portion off next time.”

“Ah! Come on, muffin! You’re being mean.”

Your biggest fear has inevitably come true—after all those years of erratic mood swings and other weird things puberty puts you through, Felix still makes fun of you for the nickname that your parents came up with on your first day of school. It doesn’t help with the fact that he meets them quite often too. Like four out of seven days a week since your parents love coming over to each other’s house for dinner.

“Flip that scowl upside down now, will you?” Felix cups your cheeks and squishes them together, attempting to make your smile by tugging at the corners of your lips. “Aren’t you excited about the trip?”

You scoff at him, “Are you even hearing yourself? My entire existence reeks off ‘excitement’ 24/7.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“I’m not responsible for whatever happens next to your face.”

But when you reach up to peel his hands away, you’re bound to make a grave mistake by looking straight into his eyes. The morning light hits his face at the right angle and it makes him look like a puppy—which you wouldn't mind starting at all day. Although it’s not like you haven’t got a good look at him before, something’s different today. From the way his irises twinkle gently like thousands of celestial bodies to how his freckles scattered across his cheekbones like the remaining bits from a supernova, his full lips with a prominent Cupid’s bow and his cute crooked teeth.

You know all of these things; perhaps you’ve never put too much thought into them before. Not when you’re constantly facepalming at him for doing stupid TikTok dances and trying to eat a banana with its peel on. But now when you actually acknowledge them, your heart momentarily skips a beat. Or two.

Doesn’t matter, you hate this feeling either way.

“Get a room, this is disgusting to watch.”

Seungmin steps in between you two with his backpack slung over his shoulders, hands resting on his hip like he’s babysitting you and your biological parents don’t pay him enough for this tedious job. But Felix is too busy making sure that his eyes aren’t malfunctioning when he sees a pink tint on your cheeks to focus on whatever nonsense Seungmin is spewing at him.

“Get on the bus, losers! Y’all are embarrassing me!” Hyunjin yells as he plants a foot onto the bus, trying his best not to be subtle about the fact that all of your classmates have already been seated.

You can practically see Jisung making weird faces from the window and next to him is a very cranky-looking Jeongin with his earbuds plugged in, deciding not to tolerate any chit-chatting this morning. It’s a shame how the school’s always on a low budget when it comes to transportation; consequently, some random freshmen got squeezed in with your class.

So you elect to ignore your friend’s questionable behaviors (sometimes you wonder what he’s on to be this zealous at six in the morning) and grabs Felix's hand to climb onto the vehicle before coach Kim kicks your ass for slowing the schedule down.

As you shuffle down the narrow aisle, you quickly realize there are only two seats left at the very back—basically, you feel a little guilty for not getting a good spot for Felix but he doesn’t seem to mind because he taps you on the shoulder lightly, signaling for you to move.

“Ugh, I wanna go home,” you sigh, slumping into your seat after tucking your backpack neatly on the small compartment above.

“You’re boring,” Felix comments flatly but he’s partially glad that he got to sit with you instead of some blabberer. “Need this?” Fishing his earphones out of his backpack, he wiggles the banana milk case in front of your face.

You only nod lazily at the offer, causing him to huff in disbelief before slipping in a side of his AirPods into your ear. You both have pretty similar taste in music so you don’t mind when he puts one of his playlists on random and Fly Me to the Moon bleeds into your eardrums. The soft melody makes you yawn a little, eyelids getting droopy.

“Tired.” Is the only warning Felix gets before you decide to drop your head onto his shoulders, slipping your arm around his torso comfortably like it’s a pillow. You personally don’t do cuddles but since he’s into those things and smells nice—very fruity, somewhat musky too, you might as well take advantage of that with the hope of sleeping throughout the entire ride.

“What is wrong with you today?” he asks with glowing cheeks.

“Shh shh, I’m recharging my battery.”

Felix is a little flustered, to say the least. But instead of complaining about your sudden clinginess, he rests his head on top of yours like second nature, allowing his childhood song to drown out some of the background chatters.

You should really be clingy more often… though he’s not gonna risk his pearly white teeth by telling you that.

five.

Your school actually knows how to manage money in a smart way. Shocker, you know.

You are thrown off upon hearing that no one needs to worry about the grizzly bears, or wolves (hey, one can never be too careful) because everyone gets to share a log cabin with a maximum of three other people.

In fact, the camp counselors have confirmed that even though they’re throwing a bunch of inexperienced, dumb high schoolers smacked in the middle of the wilderness, there’s really nothing to do other than boring team-building exercises...and fishing. In other words, the only creature that can somewhat do harm to you is mosquitoes.

It’s been pouring nonstop when your classmates tried to set up the campfire with coach Kim screaming into their eardrums last night, no wonder those little shit are thriving to make your life more miserable—they��re in their element, reproducing at a terrifying pace.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N!”

Hyunjin clutches a hand to his chest in both relief and terror after realizing the curled up figure sitting by the window is just you. He steps inside the cabin completely and flings his wet bangs away from his face, shoving the umbrella in his hand into a stand by the shoe rack. “You look like shit, are you okay?” he furrows his brows, slightly concerned about your eyebags and the way your lips crack from dehydration.

A soulless smile finds its way to your face. “I’m pretty sure ��shit’ and ‘okay’ aren’t supposed to be in the same sentence but thank you for asking, I appreciate it.”

Here’s another downside to being a homebody: you can’t fucking sleep on any other beds that aren’t yours. And surprisingly that two-hour nap on the bus wasn’t enough to fuel you for the rest of the trip. But lucky you, it’s most likely going to keep raining cats and dogs and trash pandas for the rest of the day. Outdoor activities are no longer mandatory and you can almost hear your non-existent muscles crying in sheer joy.

“Drink,” Hyunjin sighs at your pathetic state and decides to toss a water bottle in your direction.

However, all you do is retrieve your limbs deeper into Felix’s fluffy blanket since he refused to use the grey one that’s draped over every bed beforehand. You’re far beyond grateful for that because those fading, questionable-looking stains just scare the crap out of you. And also because the fluffy blanket smells like him; you rest your case.

“You were knocked out for the entire bus ride, so why the hell can’t you fall asleep on a decent bed?” Shaking his head, Hyunjin plops himself onto Jisung’s bed like a potato, accidentally knocking over the neatly folded pile of clothes. He really doesn’t give two flying fucks about the fact that his friend spent an excessive ten minutes to organize his stuff so coach Kim won’t be barging into their cabin with a megaphone at five in the morning again.

“She can only fall asleep on Felix, that’s why.” You roll your eyes in the bitchiest way possible, not bothering to chuck the abandoned water bottle at the unwanted guest of this terrific conversation.

Hyunjin almost lets out a shriek when Seungmin jolts up from his bed, hair messy, a leg sticking out from his comforter. “You know, until this exact moment, I thought that you were dead or something.”

“What I’m trying to say is,” Seungmin elaborates as he bends over to reach for his glasses with squinted eyes. “There’s a 99,9% that Felix will make the first move but at the same time, it doesn’t mean the other 0,01% won’t happen so you,” he jabs his index finger towards you. “Better be doing something other than walking around camp like a zombie.”

Hyunjin tilts his head in confusion. “Since when was this even a thing?” You’re this close to have a permanent hand imprint on your forehead for facepalming every two seconds with your idiotic friends around.

“Uhh, since forever?” Seungmin feels the need to voice out. “Listen, since the day Y/N spilled orange juice on Felix’s favorite shirt, the amount of times they’re forced to be together has risen tremendously. And when their parents found out their families live like ten minutes away from each other, they practically see each other every single day. Even outside of school. They tolerate each other, meaning the dynamic is long-lasting. Their bonding encouraged friendship.”

“But we’re her friends too?”

A deep breath. “No, their friendship was incited to grow into something bigger, more profound because Felix has a special ‘click’ with Y/N that he doesn’t with us. God, Hyunjin, it’s been what, almost a decade! How could you not see it?” Seungmin says with expressive hands, almost yanking every strand of hair off of his head. It’s too early for this, his brain is about to implode. Hwang Hyunjin being dense just feels like a metaphoric chokehold to him.

“Y/N,” Hyunjin simply ignores his frustrated friend to look over at you slipping into your sneakers. “You’re being uncharacteristically non-hyperverbal.”

“That’s because she’s about to either shut the door in my face then find Felix or kick my ass and then find Felix,” Seungmin informs with a yawn, and this prompts you to muster a fake smile.

Oh, I’m fucking livid.

“You know me too well.”

He questions with heavy irony, “I’m sorry did you just agree with me?”

“Oh no, no, I take that back,” you brush him off. “Is Felix still outside fishing?”

“I think so?” Hyunjin replies while running a hand through his hair in mere distress; Felix’s competitiveness goes a little mayhem sometimes when it comes to Jisung being better than him at something since they’re so close. That’s one of the sole reasons why Felix always manages to maintain his flying GPA because Han Jisung procrastinates like no other but still tops his class every single semester.

“I didn’t find him at the lake, though, wonder where he went.”

You widen your eyes, somewhat alarmed since it’s almost lunchtime, and Felix Lee never, and you mean never, ever let himself skip a meal. He always gets a nice nap after stuffing his face with enough good food too, so that’s a bonus. But that’s not the point, the point is: you’re starting to get a little worried because he’s been fishing all morning, wandering alone in the wilderness without a camp counselor.

You’d better not find him sleeping with the fishes.

six.

Maybe you were right, maybe Felix is a dumbass.

Because listening to his ego and coming back to the lake after breakfast was a horrendous idea.

It’s such a pity how those weird-looking vehicles have stopped driving around camp the moment it started pouring outside. Heck, he didn’t even bring an umbrella after asking the coach to check today's forecast.

So tragically, he’s now stuck underneath the canopy of a cafe ensuing coursing his way through the water blizzard and seeking refuge but can’t walk back to his cabin where his cabin-mates are probably having the time of their life drinking hot chocolate and nibbling on hand-picked fruits.

Felix exhales in torment while gazing outside, everything’s completely white-out thanks to droplets of raining streaking the horizon. Perhaps dashing back might be his one solitary option, but shivers soon run up his spine again, reminding him that he’s probably looking like a wet rat—his black Converse sodden, water seeping through the thin fabric of his uniform, numbing his skin.

Ruffling his wet fringe, Felix’s hand fishes inside his pocket to look for his phone only to realize that it’s not there. “Shit...great..just great, today is my lucky day.” Even if the camp counselors didn’t confiscate all the electronic devices, there wouldn’t be any service in the middle of the woods either. Splendid.

“Ugh, Y/N,” he groans under his breath. “Why did you let me do this?”

“Shit.”

“AHH!”

Felix shrieks upon the tiny voice squeaking out from behind him. And he sighs in pure relief to see a little girl standing mere inches away, looking no more than a seven-year-old dressed in a yellow raincoat. “Hey kid,” he chuckles and crouches down to her eye level. “Where are your parents? You’re not supposed to be out here alone when it’s pouring like crazy.”

And to his dismay, “Shit,” the little girl giggles, finding a new profound interest in the curse word that he accidentally spewed out seconds ago.

“Shh shh,” Felix frantically places an index finger on his lips while darting his eyes around in terror—he might be sued if her parents found out how their daughter picked up a bad word from some random high schooler. Suddenly he feels bad for his future kids. “No, no, we can’t say that. It’s forbidden. What’s your name?”

“Mina,” she answers cutely and fiddles with the ends of her braids. “Who’s Y/N? Is she your girlfriend?”

Felix chokes on his own saliva. “...no, why would you say that?”

“I don’t know, my dad always calls my mom’s name when he messes things up.”

“What does that have to do with- oh, shit,” he facepalms himself. This kid is going to give him a cardiac arrest any second now. “It doesn’t matter if she’s my girlfriend or not, what matters is I need to get you back to your parents. Do you know where they are right now?”

Mina simply shakes her head with a pout. “Okay, let’s go find them then,” he can’t help but cracks a smile, ruffling her hair endearingly. Most kids would be bawling their eyes out by now knowing that they’ve strayed from their parents; she’s a tough one.

Felix gently grabs Mina’s hand, biting down on his lower lip as he prays that a cold doesn’t catch up to him tomorrow and ready to dash out of the canopy that’s been keeping him dry for the last hour or two. But then a figure comes into view from afar, holding an umbrella while squinting their eyes through the thick streaks of rain.

“Y/N..?” he mutters to himself in disbelief when you quickly skip underneath the canopy, collapsing the red umbrella in your hands. Felix recognizes that umbrella anywhere—isn’t that Hyunjin’s? Have you been looking for him? And for how long too?

“Didn’t even think about bringing an umbrella, smartass,” you say with a raised eyebrow. “Oh dear, who do we have here?” Before Felix can defend himself in vain with lame excuses, you’ve already taken your attention off him to stare at the unfamiliar presence. Your intense gaze scares Mina a little, causing the little girl to squeeze Felix’s hand, hiding behind his leg.

Your friend laughs, patting her little head in reassurance. “Mina, this is Y/N, my classmate. Don’t let her intimidate you.”

“Are you really going to bother with this little one?” you scrunch your nose a bit. “We’re having pork rib soup, by the way, better hurry if you don’t want Han to hog your portion all to himself.”

Felix rolls his eyes at how utterly apathetic you are towards children. If you can get a perfect A in calc then why is it so hard to simply comprehend that every twelve-year-old needs to be returned to their hypothetical parents safely? “What part of ‘a common sense of morality’ can’t you understand?”

“I don’t want to, actually, sounds like a lot of work,” you hum sarcastically.

“Your girlfriend is scary,” Mina ensconces herself further behind your friend, officially detecting you as a threat rather than someone who will potentially bring her back to the cabin where her parents are probably flipping the whole place upside down in a panic—which is exactly what you’re planning to do.

In your defense, you don’t detest kids in general. Only the bratty ones. And Mina is borderline bratty.

“You know, I can spare her some time, Lost and Found is like..ten minutes away from here.”

“Y/N-” Felix wants to scream at you, rubbing the side of his temple in distress. Imagining you babysitting your neighbor’s newborn last summer with nine bucks per hour, ten hours per day, and five out of seven days per week is one of the few things that constantly keeps him from having a good night's sleep. It baffles him how you haven’t accidentally drowned the infant while giving her a bath.

Mina gives the side of his jeans a tug, round eyes staring up at him expectantly. “Or we can get juice pops!” she exclaims happily and looks over to you, mustering her best puppy eyes. “Please? I don’t want to be alone..”

“Twenty seconds ago, you called me scary and now you’re guilt-tripping me?” you crouch down to get a good look at the kid. Bright, innocent brown eyes, cute button nose, and a chipped front tooth—perhaps she’s a little too cute to not get her juice pops.

Then, “And juice pops too? You evil mad mind genius,” you say after standing up to unfold Hyunjin’s umbrella, swinging it over the top of your head. “That’s extortion, kid, you’re too young for that.”

Felix breaks into a fit of giggles upon seeing you failing at trying to keep a straight face and steps in beside you under the umbrella. His next problem just pops up right then and there—Mina can’t squeeze in considering the umbrella that Hyunjin gave you is solely used for one person.

“Mina, hop on here,” he decides to get on his knees, permitting the little girl to clumsily climb on his back and eventually plopping herself onto his shoulders.

“Oh, oh, oh, can you two hold hands?” Mina suggests with a shit-eating grin on her face. This causes Felix’s cheeks to burn with a bright shade of red while you’re too busy throwing daggers at her with your eyes to notice. “My family does this all the time, my dad would carry me on his shoulders and my mom would hold his hand as we walk home after going to the park.”

You and Felix yell simultaneously, “We’re not your parents!!” But that doesn’t seem to scare the little girl. You’re both just encouraging her.

“Yip yip, horsey, don’t be disobedient now,” she giggles to herself and pulls at a solid patch of Felix’s hair, making you cringe because his hair and scalp have already had enough from his questionable obsession with bright hair colors.

“Ow! Mina! Stop it! Ow!”

“Okay quit torturing my friend,” you tell her and decide to slip your hand in with Felix’s, intertwining your fingers to secure the grip before showing it to Mina so that she’ll stop before any blood is drawn. “There, we’re holding hands just like your mommy and daddy, you happy?”

Felix doesn’t say anything even when Mina nods happily, releasing her monstrous grip off his poor scalp. He only lets you tug him away from the canopy of the cafe as he gazes downward, eyes glued to how your hand fits into his perfectly. The sound of rain tapping against the umbrella suddenly bugs him, suffocating him in a way. In other words, it’s really unnatural to think this way about his best friend but he doesn't want you to let go at all.

Everything seems to move faster when you’re holding onto his hand so certainly. Felix thinks you’re fully aware but try to fight off the voices that are taunting you to just drop it. And truth is, you can care less because your head is now far too fuzzy to focus on anything but the road ahead.

You pray he doesn’t feel the pounding rhythm from your veins. If your red ears haven’t given it away already.

seven.

Jisung has weird friends, that’s a fact. And no, you’re not talking about the gang that saved his ass every time he got into trouble aka you plus JeongMinLixJin. You’re talking about those kids from Class 2C that are mutual friends with Changbin.

Because the moment Jisung barges into the cabin and starts babbling nonsense that you can’t comprehend (not that you can comprehend any of his shit on the daily), you know that he just came back from a get together with those sketchy dudes who managed to sneak some booze inside a shampoo bottle.

“Uhm okay, who gave Felix alcohol?” he squints his eyes hard.

You are more than aware that Jisung is mildly smashed by the way that his cheeks are tinted with a light shade of coral, hiccupping every ten seconds and slightly more clumsy with his feet. He almost tripped over the rug at the front door if it weren’t for Hyunjin who caught him in time so that he wouldn’t break one of his precious teeth. Those painful years of constantly slurping on watery porridge after every dentist appointment to tighten his braces shouldn’t be going down the drain.

Speaking of bland rice water, that’s all Felix has been fed with after returning to camp because he has no choice. The sickness finally caught up to him as a result of staying outside for too long while still dressed in his rain-soaked uniform. Even under the cotton comforter, he’s radiating heat on the outside but stoically shivering on the inside, his energy level is as diminished as his appetite.

The nurse said there’s really nothing that can be done but give him some pills and let him ride it out so now Felix’s all curled up in a corner of his bed, cheeks burning flush of fever, coughing and sneezing occasionally. He refuses to be moved to a completely separate cabin because sleeping alone in a confined place knowing that the grizzly bears might be roaming outside your door is quite frightening for a junior in high school.

“God, what makes you think I’m the batshit drunk one here?” Felix croaks, his voice more hoarse and gruff than usual because every word pains him, his vocal cords pulse in agony at each syllable. And that sentence was probably the longest thing you’ve heard from him since dinner.

Jisung lets Hyunjin toss him onto his bed, face down, and props himself up on his forearms. “Uhh, have you checked yourself the mirror?” he hiccups, words a bit slurred, palms outstretched in a grabby motion. “Seungmin, water- ow! What the fuck was that!?”

He rubs the side of his head while babbling incoherently like a fucking five-year-old because Seungmin decided to chuck a water bottle at him. Those years of playing baseball during retreats indeed paid off.

“I went for the head,” Seungmin looks up from his book calmly, acting innocent.

Jisung whines and turns to his side, watching as the water bottle rolls back towards him after coming in contact with the wall. “God, I miss Minho. You guys suck,” he takes it before sitting right up but flops himself back down when a pang of pain claws at his temple. Who even allowed him to drink?

“Didn’t he make your high school experience miserable?” Hyunjin laughs, sitting down on the corner of his bed, legs curled into his chest.

“Hello? That was me,” Seungmin clarifies, he sounds a little offended. “He called me a nerd for studying late at the library for our finals! Our fucking finals! Do you know how insecure my freshman self was? I was so hurt!”

You cross your arms and mumble, “He’s the same guy who treated you ice-cream after finding out you got a B in physics.”

Hyunjin hums, butting into the topic, “And he made me do fifty push-ups because I unintentionally skipped a day at practice. Our Dance Club really didn’t need a president who effortlessly snatches the Asshole of the Year Award like he’s stealing candies from a kid.”

“Please, you’re practically buddies now,” you scoff. “You always play Mario Kart and rewatch the Avatar series with him, even during midterms!”

“Oh! Oh! Oh!” Jisung suddenly gets on his feet, jumping up and down like a maniac. You’re highly concerned for the bed by the creaking sound that it’s making—sounds just like something straight out of a horror film. “He almost threw a knife at me!”

You’re running out of excuses to defend your stupid brother at this rate. What’s the point in trying anyway? “Han, it was a plastic knife, chill.”

Jisung crawls off his bed to approach you, pinching his thumb and index finger together before shoving them to your face. “I was this close to dying! You try having someone threaten to throw a knife at you during lunch break,” he complains like it’s the end of the world. Truth is, you’ve seen (and experienced) worse things.

“Minho’s still my brother.”

Staring at you, Jisung looks unimpressed. “He wanted to kill me because I commented on his puffy cheeks that day.”

“He’s adopted.”

The conversation is pulled to a halt right there when Felix does a full-body groan, his head spinning and sweats starting to collect at his hairline. With his mind buzzed like he’s floating, the bickering only adds to the pressure that’s squeezing each of his functioning brain cells. In other words, it feels as though Han Jisung is a fucking hamster going on a marathon across his body, nibbling on his limbs and ears as he’s going through a hangover, his immune system going on a rampage.

Felix doesn’t even drink.

“That’s my call for a bedtime story.” You glare at Jisung when he clears his throat while you’re attempting to tuck Felix into bed, pressing your palm against his forehead to check his temperature. It’s not climbing anymore, he should be okay after sweating everything out.

Hyunjin pulls his friend back onto his bed, locking his limbs in tight before he waddles around and potentially breaks one of those decorative pieces on the bookshelf. “Not to burst your ego, but I don’t think you’re sober enough to give us a good story,” he says unapologetically.

“Puh-lease,” Jisung lets out the weirdest chuckle at that, wagging his forearm like those Japanese ceramic cat figures that are supposed to bring people good fortune; and Han Jisung is notorious for bringing people anything but good fortune. “They didn’t even have vodka, only Strongbow. That shit is too weak for me.”

You snort involuntarily, “Actually, I think you meant you’re too weak for those bottles of cider.”

“Wow, Y/N, what a snake.”

eight.

The bonfire crackles, flaring up to life when coach Kim tosses a lit matchstick into the pyramid pile of branches and woods. The flame projects long shadows of the trees all round along, swirling and curling in obscure shapes with the high schoolers that each hugs their own cup of hot cocoa, chomping on their marshmallows of choice.

Glowing embers beneath are colored by the inferno that seems to be moving with the rhythm and melody of the song that they’re all singing along, drumming their feet and bobbing their heads simultaneously.

“Are you guys sure you don’t want to join them?” Felix says apologetically after sneezing into a piece of tissue, his nose all red and swollen. “I can just… I don’t know, read a book or something.”

When he refers to those oddly colorful and rather bulky-looking books on the shelves, Seungmin immediately stops putting a cookie inside his mouth midway. “Those are called ‘aesthetically useless interior decoration’, Lix. Good luck trying to open those plastic blocks,” he expresses with his hands after stuffing the cookie into his mouth, chewing rather aggressively.

Felix feels quite bad because, for all he knows, Hyunjin and Seungmin have been planning on going kayaking today and trying out volleyball tomorrow. You’re all going home in two days yet they’ve done nothing but pigging out in pure distress. “Still, it’s a summer camp, you all should be out there having fun, not stuck inside to look after me while tolerating...that,” he quietly looks over at Jisung who just exited the bathroom after splashing his face with some water.

At least he doesn’t look crazy and homeless now.

“How are they doing that again?” you join Hyunjin as he rests his head lazily on his forearms, staring outside from the cabin’s window like Rapunzel in an alternative universe where Flynn Rider managed to escape the tower with the crown, leaving her behind longing for civil human interactions in vain.

“They sing..” he drawls. “And turn their heads to look at each other in the eye.”

You wave it off absentmindedly, falling on your back so now your head is hung upside down from the bed, your arms dangling midair. “Well, that sounds exhausting,” you mumble, ignoring the way that Seungmin is internally judging you.

Hyunjin sighs, “Never one for sentiment, are you?”

“Easier to let it burn,” you answer flatly, sitting upright when blood starts rushing to your head.

“Don’t feel bad,” Seungmin immediately forces a smile at Felix. “We’re not really into sitting with a bunch of idiots just to enjoy a mildly decent hot cocoa either way.”

Suddenly the lights go out, and Felix immediately curls himself further into the blanket, a little thrown off. Jisung’s face comes into view out of nowhere when he makes a grab for the oil lamp that no one seems to take notice of, lighting it up with a single match. “C’mon, kids, no bonfire is complete without a good ghost story,” he crosses his legs on the floor happily, still somewhat tipsy so his body is bouncing in excitement with occasional hiccups.

Hyunjin and Seungmin exchange questionable looks before scrambling to the floor, settling themselves a few solid inches in front of the oil lamp with a sigh while you only shrug at Felix, propping your head onto your hands. Laziness is starting to hold you hostage on Hyunjin’s bed at this rate.

Seungmin spares Jisung a slight glare, “Better not bullshit us with the same one that you heard at school-”

“No,” Jisung’s lips morph into something similar to a smirk, he looks concerningly confident for someone who’s utterly terrified after watching IT. And now he’s attempting to give his bros who are equally jumpy about everything and anything, you’re excited to see how this goes. “I heard this one from a camp counselor, true story.” You definitely don’t like the sound of that.

At first, the ghost was no more than a chill in the air, a shimmer of mist to the common eyes. Through the heavy rain and fog that seeps through people’s skin, chilling the core of their bones, it slowly came into focus. It wasn’t until the camper found refuge under a canopy of an abandoned café that it congealed into a form—a small child with brilliant round eyes, dressed in white clothing.

For a moment, all was silent and still. It was as though the camper got hypnotized, feet planted to the ground. Then, he could hear a small lullaby in a cheerful voice.

“Oranges and Lemons say the bells of St.Clements…” They know how that one ended.

Suddenly someone blows out the candle, but Jisung’s voice still rings in your eardrums. “When the camper took a step back, the ghost spoke again, this time with the voice almost of a smoker and grin…” You can feel Hyunjin hop back to bed with you in a tick of a clock, holding onto you for dear life with the infrequent whimpers of fear.

Jisung proceeds to continue, “The grin soon became a snarl, baring teeth like a wolf when it finished the lullaby…”

A muffled silence descends. And, “Have you come to play…?”

“AHHH!!” Felix lets out a petrified shriek, but what confuses you is the sound of Jisung grunting rather in pain. Seungmin sighs in disapproval, flickering the lights on while leaning back against the wall.

And now before your eyes is a slightly traumatized, feverish Felix with clattering teeth, quivering inside his blanket. Whereas, Jisung is sprawled across the floor, hugging his poor stomach, hacking up lungs. Deserve.

“This is why you don’t give people who can high-kick jump scares, dumbass,” Seungmin comments and crouches down in front of Jisung like his knight in shiny armors, letting a bottle of ointment dangle between his fingers. “Put this on, bet it’s already bruising.”

Hyunjin releases his arms around you and walks towards the freckled boy who looks like he’s about to slip into a coma. “Lix, are you okay?” he knits his brows together, starting to feel somewhat concerned.

Felix only waves it off with a raspy laugh, standing on wobbly legs with his blanket still wrapped around his figure. “I’m fine, I’ll just go wash my face.” Truth is, he’s anything but fine. And it doesn’t help when he accidentally has a glance of his own reflection in the body-length mirror from across the cabin—his hair is sticking to his forehead, his face is slightly more puffy than usual, and his eyebags look like he hasn’t slept in decades—he looks worse than a trash can, basically.

“Hyunjin,” you raise a brow at your friend’s current state.

“What?”

“Catch him.”

“Huh-” Hyunjin snaps his head back when a loud thud is heard, eyes growing twice as big in sheer panic upon the sight of Felix laying on his stomach, mere inches away from his feet. “Felix!!” Your friends rush to his side while you’re too busy checking the thermometer by his nightstand. The temperature doesn’t seem to be too alarming, he should be fine after sleeping and sweating it out. But really, Felix looks more like he’s having the nap of a lifetime rather than passing out from the worst fever of the century. That doesn’t stop everyone from freaking out, unfortunately.

Also, everyone can agree that this is the first and last storytime to ever happen.

nine.

Felix sits on the beach, eyes moving from sand to stone, from rock pools to breaking waves. He lets out a sigh, an exhale of relief when a breeze passes by him, tousling his hair as he buries his feet deeper into the primrose-colored grains. The briny aroma that exists in every fiber of air makes him feel at ease, as though unknotting all his angsty-teenager worries with grace. He feels a bit better, partially because his fever has already gone down when he shook you out of your half-asleep state at four in the morning.

“Why?” you ask without turning your head after sensing his tense posture.

Felix looks confused, a little startled when you break the silence. “Why what?”

“Why the long face?” you unknowingly exhale too, stubbornly gazing forward. “Thinking about something?” For some reason, you’re too...scared to even spare him a small glance. This isn’t you, did his fever rub off on you or something?

To your dismay, his sudden inquiry catches you off guard. “High school is going to be over in a year, have you thought about what to do?”

You open your mouth to protest with something along the line of he’s overthinking again and there’s still an entire year ahead to make new memories but when you’re about to utter the first word, your mouth automatically snaps itself close. It’s like you have an entire masterpiece planned out in your mind but when someone tosses you a blank canvas, you’re standing there in defeat like the biggest idiot. Felix is serious this time, you know it’s not because he’s lightheaded after riding out the fever.

“Honestly?” you breathe out. “No, I haven’t. God, I don’t even want to think about it, the future scares me a little.”

Upon the mossed rock and vibrant horizon, comes the sun rays that are promised by the starlit sky. It makes you both a little breathless, not exchanging a single word nor moving a muscle for a while.

Until, “Fine, it scares me a whole lot,” you confess, gaze cast downward as you hug your legs closer to your chest. “It sucks because everyone seems to have their lives together, Jisung is finally taking his interest in music seriously, Hyunjin is planning on being an actual theater kid, and Seungmin is...I don’t know, but he’s definitely onto something. Point is, everyone is already one too many steps ahead of me, I’m just..here, stuck. And I don’t feel like I have-”

“A lot of time left.” Felix finishes your sentence, prompting you to look at him this time. His delicate features shine under the cracking lights of dawn, starry eyes twinkling and lips outstretched into the smile that you absolutely adore. He has such a contagious type of smile that it makes you feel a little less dead inside whenever you see it. But your heartbeat also grows a little more ecstatic.

A hearty chuckle. “You’re not alone, you know,” he says while not breaking away from the eye contact, this makes your throat grow dry. “I still have so much to do, so much to...say yet too little time. So yeah, don’t think about it too much, I’m never gonna leave you behind no matter what.”

You have to hold back a playful scoff at that; and to think he was the one who brought up this sappy topic. “If anything, you’re the overthinker in this relationship,” you tell him with a nudge on his rib. “But if you’ve already had my back, then you should know that I’ll always have yours too.”

Because what would you do without an overthinker like Felix? Drowning your sorrow by stress-eating in the middle of the night? Bottoming out on questionable drinks to end up like Han Jisung? Winging every single important choice that can potentially flip your life upside down in either a good or bad way? Not in a million years. He knows that you need him as much as he needs you, harsh truth but you still hate it either way.

You both don’t look forward to the future, like at all.

You’re too apathetic and overall just a big ‘meh’ about it. You’re the type of person that goes with the flow, letting life toss you around like a ragdoll until you finally snap at some point to fight back because you know where the line between giving up and knowing that you’ve had enough is. Meanwhile, Felix is rather anxious about things. If a piece of paper with a pencil can draw out the map of his entire destiny ahead then he’ll have it finished in one night. But he’s grown out of his middle school self to know that things don’t always go as planned.

Guess if things turn out to be shit, you’ll still have him.

“Does that mean if we’re still single in our thirties, you’ll marry me like how our parents always joke about?” Felix cracks a shit-eating grin this time, one that makes your heart swell but for the most part, you wanna whack him unconscious with a pillow.

You sneer in return, “Sure, but you’ll have to fall for me first.”

There’s a pang in Felix’s chest, it’s so loud and evident that he’s afraid you might hear it. You really didn’t have to slap him in the face with that seemingly harmless statement. “Hmm, who would even fall for a stubborn hermit crab like you?” he jokes to hide the nervousness that’s crawling upon his spine. His ears are probably bright red right now. “Although...that wouldn’t be a problem with me.” Because he’s already fallen for you, a little too hard actually.

“What does that even mean?” you only hum after questioning his statement, nothing makes sense right now since you’re getting a little sleepy because a certain someone wanted to watch the sunrise which simply lasted for about two minutes after two(ish) hours of waiting.

“I don’t know,” Felix laughs before standing up, dusting the sand off of his jeans. “You go figure it out, smartass.” With that, he runs off with his Converses dangling between his fingers, leaving you dumbfounded in the middle of the beach like a total dimwit. Slowly, within those five seconds of making eye contact with your best friend again, his words zero in on you like a wakeup call.

Urgently grabbing your sneakers, you chase after him. “Hey- wait! GET BACK HERE!” By looks of it, you’ve probably figured it out now. It’s not like he’s trying to be subtle either.

Felix feels like he just gained strength from spewing out that indirect confession, and it gives him a tiny ray of hope that he still has his entire youth before his eyes to tell you how he really feels. Or his whole life if you don’t start resenting him for crossing the line that no one dares talk about when they have a thing for their best friend.

Either way, as long as Felix sees your presence side by side with him at every ups and downs, he’s home.

406 notes · View notes

emmerrr · 4 years

Note

Jordeclan going to an amusement park or a fair? They both just honestly need a break and some fun!!

anon i’m so sorry this took so long but hey i made it valentine’s day and there’s lynch bros content and i hope you like it (also on ao3)

Declan wakes up on the morning of Valentine’s Day not really aware that it’s Valentine’s Day.

It’s Saturday, so he doesn’t need to go into work, and he trundles down the stairs into the kitchen and makes himself a coffee. Matthew and Ronan are still asleep, the latter of whom spent the night after driving up the previous day to go to an art show with his brothers. (Ronan had been less than subtle about his disdain for the ‘art’ in question; Declan had dragged them out early to go to a diner for some burgers. Brotherly bonding at its finest.)

He sits at the breakfast bar with his coffee and checks his emails on his phone like he’s reading the news. There’s a few work things, but not too much, all things considered. He sends a good morning text to Jordan, knowing in all likelihood she won’t read it until at least noon. The thought of her brings a smile to his face, and he wonders if he’ll get to see her later. They don’t have any solid plans in place, but their relationship has never been one that follows a rigid structure anyway. She’s been a breath of fresh air in every possible way.

An hour or so later, Declan hears Ronan moving around in the guest bedroom upstairs, probably throwing his stuff together before he drives back to Singer’s Falls. Not long after that, Matthew comes down the stairs, golden curls matted to his head on one side from where he’s slept on them.

“Mornin’,” he says through a yawn, and takes a seat. “What’s for breakfast?”

“Whatever you want.”

Matthew hums. “I want eggs.”

Declan nods at the fridge. “Go on then.”

Matthew sighs but gets up again and opens the refrigerator, standing solemnly in front of it before slowly removing a carton of eggs.

He puts them down and makes a good show of looking lost as he meanders around the kitchen finding everything he needs. Declan knows he’s doing it on purpose, but goddamn if it doesn’t work. “For crying out loud, how do you want them?”

Matthew grins; he’s won this round. “Scrambled, please. You’re the best.”

“Yeah, yeah. You can make your own toast, though. And go and ask Ronan if he wants any.”

“Yes, sir!” Matthew salutes, and runs off to the hallway to yell up the stairs at Ronan.

A mountain of breakfast later, Ronan disappears again to have a shower, and Declan makes Matthew wash the dishes. He sits in the living room and turns on some nature documentary just for background noise, but only a minute or two passes before Matthew comes in and sits down.

“You cannot possibly have finished the dishes yet,” Declan says.

“They need to soak,” Matthew insists, eyes skating guiltily from Declan’s face to the TV screen. “Oh, is this the one with the penguins?” He sits down, and Declan resolves himself to finishing the singular chore he asked Matthew to do later.

“Yes, half a job Bob, it’s the one with the penguins.”

Matthew smiles indulgently and settles in to watch, but they both get distracted a moment later when they spot Ronan walking past, carrying a lot more than he originally had with him.

“Why do you have a big teddy bear?” Matthew asks.

“Is that a boom-box?” Declan asks.

“Is that a heart-shaped balloon with Adam’s face on it?” Matthew asks.

“What are you doing?” Declan asks.

Ronan leaves everything in the hall by the door and comes to stand just inside the living room, hands in his pockets. He shrugs. “Just gonna make a pit-stop at Cambridge, that’s all.”

Declan sighs. “It’s not exactly on your way. Does Adam even know you’re coming?”

“No, it’s a surprise. It’s a funny inside joke Valentine’s surprise.”

“What do you mean, Valentine’s surprise, it’s not Val—oh my god.” Declan puts his head in his hands. “Oh my god, it’s Valentine’s Day.”

“Oh, Declan,” Ronan says, the smile evident in his voice. “Forget, did you?”

Declan lifts his head. “It was a busy week at work.”

“Don’t worry, bro, I must have got all the romantic genes, it’s not your fault.”

Declan scowls but there’s little heat in it. He checks his phone and Jordan is yet to reply, which could mean nothing, but doubt now niggles in Declan’s mind. What if Jordan was expecting some kind of gesture and is now massively disappointed that Declan is so useless?

“What do I do? It’s too late to make any reservations.”

“Reservations are for chumps anyway, just go and do something fun,” Ronan says.

“Like what?” Declan snaps. All that’s running through his head is that he got Jordan some tyrian purple at great cost and at very short notice for their very first date. If her expectations for Valentine’s Day are high, he has no one to blame but himself.

“I’ll leave that up to you to figure out,” Ronan says. “I have to hit the road.”

Matthew laughs and elbows Declan playfully. “Ronan is a better boyfriend than you.”

“No he isn’t, shut up,” Declan says, which just makes Matthew laugh harder.

After Ronan hugs Matthew goodbye, Declan helps him carry the ridiculous gifts he has obviously dreamt up out to the car.

“Text me when you’re with Adam,” he says when he’s closed the trunk, “so I know you got there okay.”

Ronan opens the driver’s side door and levels Declan with a put-upon look. “Fine, I will try my very best to remember to text you when I arrive.”

Declan manages a smile. “Appreciate it. Drive safe.”

Ronan moves to get in the car, but hesitates, and turns back to his brother. “You’re not really worried that you forgot about today, right?” At Declan’s shrug, he continues, “Come on, Jordan’s cool, she’s not gonna care. Everyone knows Valentine’s Day is bullshit.”

“Says the guy who’s driving several hours out of his way in honour of said bullshit day,” Declan says pointedly.

Ronan shakes his head. “Look, the day’s irrelevant; I’m driving several hours out of my way because I miss my fucking boyfriend and this is as good an excuse as any to go see him.”

“Yes, but—”

“But nothing. Jordan likes you, for some unfathomable reason. She’s not gonna dump you because you didn’t remember to plan some posh, soulless valentine’s date.”

Abrasive as he is, Declan can’t deny that Ronan’s right. “When did you get so wise?” he grumbles, and Ronan smirks.

“Hey, statistically I’ve gotta be right about some things.”

“Once in a blue moon.”

“Asshole.”

“Yeah, yeah. Get out of here.” Ronan gets into the car, but Declan stops him before he shuts it. “You really think Jordan is cool?”

Ronan laughs. “Way too cool for you.”

Declan’s unwarranted fears about Jordan ignoring him fade as soon as she texts him back an hour or so later. She doesn’t mention the dreaded V-word, but she says there’s a fair in town, and asks if he wants to go.

A fair date sounds pretty perfect actually, and when he agrees, Jordan tells him she’ll pick him up at seven. She always does like to drive.

“I still haven’t got her a gift, though,” Declan tells Matthew. “Is it bad that I don’t have a gift?”

“You’re going to a fair,” Matthew points out. “Plenty of opportunities to be all manly and shit and win her something.”

“Language,” Declan says, and Matthew rolls his eyes.

“You should get her a card, at least.”

“Valentine’s Day cards are always so terrible, though,” Declan complains.

“So make her one. Jordan’s arty, she’d probably like that better anyway.”

Declan doesn’t like that both of his younger brothers are being smarter than him today, but nevertheless, Matthew is right, and Declan ransacks his office supplies to see what he can come up with.

He uses some high-quality photo paper to print out a picture of a pretty flower that he found online, then carefully cuts it out and glues it to the middle of the front of some card he’s folded in half. He frames it by cutting out strips of purple card and sticking them around the flower. Then he gets irritated with how shit it looks and considers throwing the whole fucking thing away and starting from scratch, when Matthew peers over his shoulder and says, “Aw, that looks really nice.”

So Declan keeps it, writes his message inside, and finds an envelope that is only a little bit too big to put it in.

Time’s getting on, so he goes to get ready. He has no idea what to wear for a date at a fair, and takes two tie options out to the living room to get Matthew’s opinion.

“Which tie is more appropriate?”

“Neither.”

“You didn’t even look.”

“I don’t need to. Don’t wear a tie. You’re not going on a job interview. Plus it’s February and you’ll be outside, put a sweater on.” Matthew does finally look at him now, and he sighs at Declan’s blue button-down and grey slacks. “This is what you wear for work, put some jeans on. You’ve like, met Jordan, right?”

“Alright, smartass, point taken.”

When Declan’s changed again, Matthew decrees his outfit of jeans and a fairisle sweater in navy tones boring but ultimately acceptable, which Declan figures is the best he’s going to get. He also thinks he’s going mad if he’s asking Matthew of all people for fashion advice.

He just has time to slip his coat on and put the card in the inside pocket before there’s a knock at the door, and Matthew runs to open it.

“Hiya, squirt,” Jordan says to him, which is funny because Matthew is taller than her.

“Hey. Declan tried to wear a tie.”

Jordan laughs, throwing her head back, and Declan finds there’s a dopey grin on his face even though his girlfriend and his brother are bonding over making fun of him. “Of course he did. Never fully dressed without a tie.” She meets Declan’s gaze over Matthew’s shoulder and winks at him.

“Hey, I’m right here,” he says, faux-wounded, and makes his way over to the door as Matthew heads back to the living room.

He kisses Jordan. “Hi.”

“Hi yourself. You ready to go?”

“Yes.”

“Have fun, guys!” Matthew yells, and Declan hesitates, poking his head in to look at his brother.

“What are you doing tonight? You can come with us if you want?”

“No way, man, I’m not third-wheeling on your date. Also it’s cute how you think I don’t already have plans, I’m extremely popular.”

“Uh huh,” Declan says, worries evaporating. “Modest, too.”

They leave, finally, and Jordan drives them to where the fair is set up, filling Declan in on any little anecdotes he’s missed since they last spoke. He’s happy just to listen to her talk; sitting in her presence is like recharging a battery, and he feels lighter than he has all week.

Parking is easy to find, and they huddle together as they walk towards the entrance, the lights from all the rides and the heat lamps looking bright and inviting beyond. Jordan slips her hand into Declan’s, and he tucks them both into his pocket as Jordan leans her head against his shoulder.

“I missed you this week,” she says.

“Did you?” Declan smiles. He likes being missed by Jordan. “I missed you too. I always miss you.”

“Well you say that now, but I’m going to destroy you at fairground games, so you might change your mind.”

Declan’s doubtful, but he grins at her amenably.

She holds up a finger. “But first, we need to go on a couple of super fast, spinny rides, because if we go on them after I’ve had something to eat I might just throw up all over you.”

“Yeah, let’s avoid that,” Declan says. “Lead the way.”

Jordan, practically vibrating with excitement, drags Declan straight to the ride she keeps calling ‘the whirligig’, because it takes you round and round, faster and faster, while the carriage you sit in is also spinning. So it’s double the amount of spinning, and when they get off, Declan has to stop for a minute with his hands on his knees while Jordan lovingly laughs at him.

She takes pity on him and they go on the ferris wheel next. They kiss when it stops when they’re at the top, which Declan knows is cliché as hell, but he’s certainly not complaining. He pulls back a little, his thumb gently brushing along her cheekbone.

“I made you a card,” he says, a little embarrassed. Jordan’s warm brown eyes go wide and pleased.

“Oh yeah?”

He pulls it out of his pocket and starts to hand it to her nervously. “It’s not very good.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” she says, taking it from him. She opens it and smiles when she sees the flower. “So pretty.”

“It’s called a Middlemist red camellia. It’s like the rarest flower in the world. Or so Google tells me.” He knows that Jordan will know why he specifically chose this flower. He’s telling her something about who she is to him. She won’t miss the significance of that.

She brings Declan’s hand to her lips and kisses it gently, before letting it go and looking at the card again. “I love camellia’s,” Jordan says, “but I’ve never seen this one before.” She opens the card and reads the message Declan wrote inside, a soft smile growing the more she reads.

Jordan sighs and holds the card to her chest with her eyes closed. When she opens them again, she says, “I made you a card, too.”

She pulls it out of her own coat pocket, and Declan opens it. On the front is a colour pencil drawing of him, perfect hair, non-smiling, boring suit, but with the fanciest shoes he has ever seen; a more exaggerated version of the ones he was wearing when he and Jordan first met.

Declan laughs in joyous surprise. “Your card is better than mine.”

“My card is funnier than yours,” she says. “It’s not better.”

“Thank you,” he says, earnestly, looking at the portrait and cracking up again. “I think...I think I’m gonna frame this.”

“You should. It’ll be worth a fortune some day.”

Of that, Declan has no doubt. “You wanna know a secret?”

“Absolutely.”

“I forgot it was Valentine’s Day.”

It’s Jordan’s turn to laugh, and she leans in to kiss Declan’s cheek. “I forgot, too. I didn’t realise until I went to grab a coffee and there were Valentine’s specials going on all over the place.”

“Ronan of all people reminded me. He drove up to surprise Adam at Cambridge.”

“Bless him, Ronan really is a gigantic softie.”

Declan grins. “Well he told me he thinks you’re cool. Too cool for me.”

“Aw, babe, he’s right!” Jordan says, laughing at his sad pout. “Unfortunately for me, I love you anyway.”

Declan shakes his head, smiling. “You’re a dick,” he says. “But I love you, too.”

The ferris wheel starts moving again, and when it stops, they go and try their hand at some games. Jordan comes out on top at ring tossing, duck hooking, the coconut shy, and the buzzwire, but Declan does pretty well at the mini laser quest and a balloon-popping darts game.

They end up at the shooting game stall, where you have to try and knock the cans over to win prizes. There’s a cute stuffed stegosaurus that Jordan has her eye on, and Declan pays for them both to have a go to try and win it.

They each manage to knock a couple of cans over, but there’s some that are way more stubborn and don’t seem to budge even when clearly hit.

“Another round,” Declan says when his go is finished. He sighs in frustration when the results are the same.

Jordan puts his hand on his arm. “You know these things are rigged, right? They’re weighted, it’s almost impossible to win the good prizes.”

The rational part of his brain understands this to be true. The monkey part wants the prize. “Yes, but it’s Valentine’s Day and I have to win you this stupid stegosaurus. My manly pride is at stake.”

Jordan snorts. “Well how about we take your manly pride to that stall over there and I’ll let you buy me a churro, I’m starving.”

“...Churros sound good.”

Jordan links her arm through Declans as they follow their noses over to the churro stall.

“I really would’ve won it with one more go,” Declan feels the need to say.

“Sure you would,” Jordan says easily. “Maybe later.”

“Fuck later, it’s freezing. You wanna come back to mine? I’ll make you a latte.”

Jordan grins up at him. “I thought you’d never ask. Churros first though.”

“Oh, that’s a given.”

#the raven cycle #jordeclan #lynch bros #dreamertrilogy #anon #emma answers

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