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bbyboibinnie · 4 years

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comfort zone

synopsis: all your life you’ve tried your best to maintain a regular routine and comfortable life. during your last year as a senior though, everything changed and suddenly you were pushed out of your comfort zone. pairing: bang chan x fem!reader genre: high school au, strangers to lovers, angst, fluff, romance, little cliche but you gotta have some cliche stories in your life sometimes warning: mild swears wc: 11.8k a/n: this has not yet been proofread so my apologies for any errors! hope you enjoy nonetheless!

The hand on the clock was ticking excruciatingly slow. You’d been eyeing it for the last 10 minutes, trying to count down the time before math would finally wrap up and you could speed your way towards the cafeteria before everyone else began to flood in. It’s been like this for the last three, ongoing four years. You and your small group of friends had managed to secure a table in freshman year and that had been the hang out spot every day during the forty minute lunch period, which was frankly way too short. On most days, you spent half of those forty minutes waiting in line for the overpriced food that was barely considered edible.

Nonetheless, right as the bell rang you were already out your seat and past the door. Other students were scrambling into the cafeteria and you picked up the pace to reach the line. You were squished between the person in front and behind you and if it weren’t for the massive backpacks acting as barriers, you’d be disgusted by the close contact.

“I was wondering what took you so long.” Seungmin noted as you reached the wooden bench.

“I know, it took even longer than usual to get this plate of god-knows-what,” you poked at the crusty pile of what looked to be pasta on your plate. “Those idiots kept cutting and of course the principle who stood there didn’t bat an eyelash as it happened right under his nose.”

Seungmin shook his head and popped open the bag of chips he got from the vending machine. “The joys of high school right?”

“Thank gosh this is our last year here.”

“Amen to that.” You clinked your juice box with his and munched on the mediocre pasta, joining in on the card game the others had started.

“Oh I forgot, we have that rally thing today don’t we?” Your other friend—Lia—brought up.

“What rally?” You put down a queen and relished in victory as the others reshuffled the deck.

“The one for the football players or something right? We’ve been going to this school for the last three years and we don’t even know.” What Lia said was very true. Before you had started high school, your parents and basically every adult you talked to said to ‘make the most out of your high school years’ and ‘get the full experience.’ Frankly, you just had your head set on getting that diploma at this point because after a while, everything has just felt more draining and repetitive, including today’s rally.

“I guess there will be less class time then.” You shrugged, reaching out to grab the cards and continue the next round.

———

“I don’t get it.”

“Don’t get what?” Seungmin said, turning to face you.

“Why football is so hyped at our school. I mean at other schools I get it because they actually win, but haven’t we just been losing all season?” The rally had been going on for over half an hour and another yawn escaped your lips.

“Yeah, I’ve been to every game and the best we got was a tie. Anyways, there’s only a handful of games left before this season ends. You should come.”

“And remind me why I should?” The two hosts of the rally were trying to hype the crowd up and you had to stifle laughter as the person in the mascot costume came out from behind the bleachers. Did they ever wash that costume? It must’ve reeked of sweat in that thing; yoed at the thought.

“Because you’ve never gone before? I know sports isn’t really your thing, or any after school activity for that matter, but it’s high school. You gotta experience it at least once.” Seungmin reasoned, pulling at your arm.

“I mean, you said they’ve been losing. I’m not going to pay and spend like two hours watching our school lose for the nth time.” The person in the costume was making rounds around the field now, starting a wave with the crowd.

“Okay, what if I pay for your ticket then?”

“But those two hours of of precious time will be wasted—“

“They have snacks there. Popcorn, churros, corn dogs, and your favorite and mine—fried oreos.” Events always sounded more appealing when food was involved, but you were hesitant. “C’mon please y/n? For me?” Seungmin was doing those puppy eyes with the pout to your dismay. Out of all the years you’ve known him, you could never turn him down whenever he gave you that look.

“Fine! But you’re paying for the food too.”

“Deal.”

————

Seungmin had arrived at your house at six thirty on the dot and you slipped on your shoes before shouting to your parents that you were leaving. When you had told them that you were going out, especially to attend the football game, they had been surprised then elated. Your parents were the kind that always tried to encourage you to get out of your comfort zone and enjoy new things, and considering you were a major homebody, this was a pretty big step out the bubble of comfort if you had to say so yourself.

“Wow I’m impressed, you even wore the school colors.” He said as you got in the car, eyeing your outfit.

“I mean if I’m going, might as well go all out right?” You ended up wearing the school hoodie with a white pleated skirt, the best part were the streaks of eyeshadow—red and gold—you had on your cheeks (no face paint because you didn’t have any on hand).

“Exactly, now let’s go, I want to be there early so we get good seats.” He stepped on the gas and you were on your way back to school, something you’d never thought you do after hours.

“Y/n pick it up, I can see a spot in the front row but someone else is gonna to snatch it if you keep you with that snail pace.” He looked back at you from atop the stairs of the bleachers.

“Well it’s not my fault you won’t help me carry all of this food!” You gave him an exasperated look as you tried to balance the drinks, snacks, and napkins all in your hand.

“Listen, I bought it so you do the heavy lifting and labor alright? Now let’s go.” He pulled on your arm and the corn dog nearly slipped out your hand as you tried to keep up with Seungmin.

You gave out an annoyed huff as you sat down, right in the front row just like how Seungmin wanted. The feeling of the cool metal bleacher sent a chill up your spine and the bitter autumn wind wasn't helping ease the cold. You were starting to regret wearing that skirt.

“We’re here, happy? Now take your food before I eat it all myself.” You rolled your eyes and handed him his share of the food while he excitedly starred off towards the field. The players were warming up and the opponents were off to the side, huddled with their coach.

You looked back at the people in the stands and the seats were packed. To be honest, you were just shocked that this many people showed up to watch even though the team had a losing streak. There were adults, schoolmates, little kids, and —someone even brought their dog. It seemed like everyone was eager for the game to start and although this wasn’t something you ever thought you’d do on a Friday night, you were one of the eagerly anticipating spectators in the stands too.

From beside you, Seungmin kept looking around the field, as if he were looking for something. You were puzzled at this but didn’t bother questioning him because wow, the fried oreos were delicious.

“Aye Chan!” Your friend shouted; he was sitting so close that it felt like he had screamed directly into your year. His loud voice managed to catch the attention of one of the players on the field as the boy with the number 97 on his jersey turned around and jogged towards where you and Seungmin were seated.

“Seungmin, you made it today!” The boy reached out over the fence that separated the crowd from the field to greet Seungmin and you were both confused and surprised at the sight. Seungmin knew one of the football players? Not just one of them but the football player Chan? Team captain Chan? You were with Seungmin five days a week at school and it had never occurred to you that he knew anyone on the team, much less the captain.

“Why are you so surprised? I come to every game.” He was leaning on the fence as he talked to Chan.

“Did you come alone again?” You tried not to eavesdrop but it was impossible when they were speaking directly in front of you.

“Nah, I actually convinced a friend of mine to come with me today for once. Y/n!” He shouted your name which made you look up in shock while in the midst of stuffing your face with fried food. Seungmin shook his head and grimaced at the sight. “Sorry, she usually isn’t this uncollected.”

You gave a slight wave towards the two and swiped the crumbs off your cheeks. This was so embarrassing, Seungmin was going to get an earful from you after this.

“Nice to meet you!” Chan shouted, smiling at your direction. You nodded and awkwardly tried to return the smile before giving up and going back to all the fried goodness that the snack stand had to offer.

They probably talked for another ten minutes before Chan jogged off to join his teammates and Seungmin came back to his seat where you immediately proceeded to throw questions at him.

“You know Bang Chan? How do you know him?”

“Yes, I do know him and we’ve known each other fo—“

“I’ve been your friend for so long, how come I didn’t know you were friends with the captain of the football team?!”

“Well, I do have other friends outside of our friendship grou—“

“Wait, I’m still your best friend though right?”

“Oh my god, y/n yes. We have been friends since elementary and nothing changes tha—“

“Seungmin, answer my questions!”

“I’m trying but you keep cutting me off.” He said which shut you right up. “Anyways, yes I know Chan. His mom and my mom are super close so we just started hanging out when our parents were together, that’s why you never saw me with him at school. And you’re my best friend and will continue to hold that title. No football player is going to take that title away from you.” You smiled in relief at the last part.

“Is that why you go to all their games?”

“Well yes, but I also genuinely enjoy the atmosphere of these events.”

“Ahh, as expected from the extrovert himself. I’m truly amazed how we’re best friends.” This thought had come to your mind on numerous occasions. Seungmin had that happy-go-lucky type of personality, always smiling and being the social butterfly while you were on the quieter, more pessimistic end of the scale. If it weren’t for the fact that you guys were assigned seats next to each other in the third grade, you don’t know if you two would’ve ever crossed paths otherwise. You’d have to thank your third grade teacher someday for doing you a massive favor with that seating chart.

“They say opposites attract y’know?” Seungmin threw an arm over your shoulder and annoyingly ruffled your hair—you felt like he was an older brother you never had sometimes. You swatted his hands away and tried to fix your hair.

“Can you stop doing that? You know I actually tried putting effort into my hair today righ—“

“Y/n shut up, the game is about to begin.” He shushed you as the band began to play and you begrudgingly stopped talking.

After the dramatic applause and cheers died down, the teams got into position and soon enough the game had started. You had never actually seen a game before, only seeing snippets of them in television dramas or in books, so you didn’t understand the penalties or all the ins and outs. Regardless, you watched silently for the most part and clapped when others did.

It was halftime and the scores were not looking so hot. You had finished your drinks and snacks long before and was starting to wish you’d stay home because this game was turning out to be another bust—-as you had expected.

“Seungmin, I’m getting bored. I tried being optimistic and hoped for a win but we are down by so many points.” You pouted as you looked at the scoreboard—five to twelve.

“Aw c’mon y/n, it’s only half way through. Anything could happen in the other half.” He made a good point but it was not making you have any more hope than before. “Hey, why don’t you try cheering for them in the next half? Maybe if we cheer louder and give them even more support, they’ll do better. I gotta say, your half hearted clapping is not very effective.” You playfully elbowed him in the stomach for that remark.

“If you say so, but if I scream at the top of my lungs and they still end up losing, I’m never going to another one of these games.”

————

The game had continued on after the short half time break and it seemed like your school was finally gaining points. It was neck and neck and everyone was on the edge of their seats by the time the last quarter of the game rolled around.

You had been so enticed with the game that you didn’t realize how late it was getting. You had arrived at six thirty and it was almost reaching the two hour mark. The sun had completely set by now and the field was being illuminated by the massive lights and whatever little light the stars and the moon in the sky were giving off.

“Not going to lie, we are doing better than I had expected.” Seungmin commented during the break session in between the quarters.

“Really? Are you telling me this is the team on a good day then?” You asked incredulously. The scores were so close but the opponents were still leading by a few.

“Sadly, yes this is a good day for us. Let’s just give it our all with the cheers for the last round and hope they win.” And almost as if on cue, the whistle blew and the players were back in their positions.

“Wooo!! C’mon guys!” You hollered as loud as you could. Then the ball was tossed and the clock was counting down the final quarter.

———

“YES CHAN! C’MON YOU GOT THIS!” You and Seungmin weren’t even sitting anymore, you had gathered near the fence and your eyes followed as number 97 was speeding down the field.

“Oh my god.” Your eyes were getting dry and you felt the need to blink but you forced yourself not to because you didn't want to miss this moment.

“Holy shi—.” You heard Seungmin barely whisper from under his breath. Heads were turned as everyone watched Chan pass the goal and into the end field right as the clock reached zero.

Before you knew it, the audience around you had erupted into laughter, applaud, cheers, and everything in between. Meanwhile, the football players had circled on the field and were all congratulating one another.

“Did we just win?” You looked at Seungmin and he turned to you with a gaping mouth, nodded rapidly.

“You just witnessed the first win of the season!” The two of two started jumping up and down like little kids, smiling and shouting excessively.

“My throat is so dry from all that screaming, but it paid off.” You smiled and felt light headed, unsure if it was because you were overjoyed or because of all the screaming and dehydration, probably all of the above.

“Let’s go find Chan and congratulate him!” Seungmin grabbed your arm and pulled you down the steps of the bleachers, past the track and onto the grass. You spotted him from a few feet away but the two of you waited for the crowd to disperse a bit before reaching him.

“You finally did it man! First win of the season!” Seungmin gave Chan one of those ‘bro-hugs’ and you stood back a bit to give them their space. Chan was just a friend of a friend so you felt awkward approaching him, but still you said your congratulations to him.

“Seungmin said it was your first time coming to one of our games right? Quite a show we put in tonight for you then.” He looked past Seungmin and directed the conversation at you, smiling like he had earlier. You didn’t notice this the first time but he had a dimple on one of his cheeks. His brown hair was tousled in every direction from wearing the helmet and the fringes of his bangs were matted to his forehead with sweat, undoubtedly you still thought he looked quite cute.

“Yeah, I don’t know anything about football but I think you guys were great tonight!” You said, trying to project your voice so that he could hear you amongst all the other chatter and commotion.

“She thought you guys were going to lose.” Seungmin noted, making you glare in his direction, silently telling him to shut up. Chan just laughed at the response, which made his smile grow wider.

“It’s okay, I know we usually don’t do so hot. I’m glad you guys could come and watch us succeed today though. What a relief I exceeded your expectations then.” You smiled and awkwardly chuckled in response, feeling guilty now that you’ve been exposed by Seungmin for being a pessimist.

“Well it was great seeing you again man, you gotta come over soon. My mom keeps asking where you are these days.” Chan turned back to Seungmin and they exchanged some more words before he focused back on you. “Also, thanks for coming tonight y/n to watch the game, and for accompanying my friend here, he usually goes solo and I pity him sometimes seeing him in the stands alone. Hopefully you’ll come back for our next game.” Honestly you had no plans to, but looking at Chan with his dimple, warm eyes and being convinced by his charming words, you felt like the urge to clear your schedule for it.

————-

“What do you mean you’re not coming?!” Seungmin spun around in your desk chair and rolled towards your bed where you sat, surrounded by an innumerable amount of paper and textbooks.

“It means I’m not coming, what words are you not understanding?” You replied without looking up, flipping to the next page in your calculus book.

“But why not?” He was starting to sound like a whiny toddler and you were already getting frustrated with trying to solve this stupid math equation.

“Seungmin,” you said firmly, looking at him in the eyes, “why can’t you just find someone else to go with? Can't you see I’m busy? This project isn’t going to finish itself.” You gestured towards the loads of work scattered everywhere. “Go ask Lia or something.”

“No, the last time I tried to bring her along she just kept talking about how pretty she would’ve been as a cheerleader and started to sulk over the fact that she didn’t make the squad. Anyways, you missed last week’s game too! Plus, you had so much fun the first time around.” Seungmin whined, saddened by your blatant, harsh rejection.

“Right, but like I said I have to get this done. You know I’ll prioritize school work over a sports event any day. Plus, that was a one time thing. I just went for the experience. And now that I’ve experienced it, I can check it off my high school bucket list and move on.” Your focus ripped away from your friend and back to your notebook which was filled with scribbled and incorrect math solutions. You’d been working on this project for what seemed like an eternity and the light at the end of the tunnel was not showing itself. You wanted to scream in frustration.

“Please come, it’s so much better with you there! Whenever I go alone I feel so… alone.” He watched as you crumpled up another piece of paper and threw at the trash, completely missing. “Plus, take it as a break from all your hard work and studies. You’re clearly stressed and need to unwind, treat yourself!” You eyed him from where you were sitting, going over his words. Maybe he’s right. You did have a lot of fun the first time you went and this project wasn’t due for a few more days.

You sighed, “I don’t know. Perhaps I do need a break.” His eyes lit up at your response and he quickly reached over to shut your textbook and push your notebooks to the side.

“What are you waiting for then? Those first row seats are going fast.” After a moment, you caved into his words.

“Alright, grab me the hoodie in my closet.” You ordered and he happily complied. Quickly you threw your hair into an updo and put streaks of gold and red on your cheeks. Slipping on the hoodie, you turned towards Seungmin who gave you a thumbs up. “Okay, let’s go.”

Right as you guys were about to step out the room, you pulled him back. He gave you a questioning look. “By the way, you should consider being a salesman because sir, you really have a way to convince people with your words.”

“Please spare me of your corny jokes y/n.” You punched him for his lack of appreciation for your humor as he led the way to his car. With that, you shut the door and the two of you were once again on your way to the school.

———

“Oh sorry.” You apologized as you bumped into somebody as you tried to squeeze through the crowd and to the bleachers.

“It’s oka- oh, y/n! Hey, you came back.” The person talking had a familiar voice so you looked up and Chan’s grin came into view.

“Chan, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be on the grass like warming up or something?” Over his shoulder, you could see the rest of his team mates stretching and whatnot by the field.

“Yeah, but I had to run back to grab something from the lockers. Guess my timing was impeccable because now I’ve run into you. I noticed you didn’t come to the last game so I wasn't expecting you today either.” In last week’s game, Chan had thought you’d tag along with Seungmin like the other time but when he noticed you weren’t there, he felt a slight tinge of disappointment. “Is Seungmin with you too?”

“Yup, he went to grab some food. Sorry about missing the game last week by the way. I was busy.” It sounded like a pathetic excuse but it was the truth, you were caught up trying to study for exams and prepare for a presentation so there was no time in your agenda for a football game.

“Ah, no worries. You’re here now right? Plus, you didn’t miss anything last week anyways. We ended up losing, pretty badly actually.” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly and you felt bad for him. Before, you had always made jokes and poked fun at the team for constantly losing but if you were in their shoes, you would’ve felt so discouraged and perhaps even frustrated. At that moment, you sympathized for him and his teammates.

“Don’t worry Chan, that was last week so it’s the past now. Focus on today and have hope that you’ll win! Go out there and give it your all. I believe in your and the other players.” You gave him two thumbs up and a cheeky smile and he couldn’t help but laugh at your attempt at a motivational speech.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” He genuinely meant this. Lately, he’s been getting at himself for all the losses this season. Was it because he was an incompetent player? Was he a bad captain? Was he even good at football? All these questions swirled in his head and kept him up at night but having recently won, hearing your cute speech, and seeing you beam sweetly at him, those doubts vanished.

“Chan! There you are, come over here so we can take some pictures for the school yearbook together!” One of the cheerleaders approached Chan and you watched as she clung onto his side. For a moment, you had forgotten he was the popular team captain.

“Uh, maybe in a bit Tiffany. I’m busy right no—“

“Come on Chan, the photographer for the yearbook club is already here. Plus we look good together.”

You felt like you were intruding on something here and felt so uncomfortable as you witnessed the girl flirt with Chan. You had to get yourself out of the scene.

“Well I’m going to go grab a seat, good luck Chan!” You hurriedly fled to leave those two alone.

“Tell Seungmin I said hi. Also, cheer loud for me! I need the support!” He shouted as he was dragged away with the girl. You made your way up to the stands and sadly, you hadn’t made it in time to grab the front row but thankfully, you spotted an empty area not too far back and sat down.

While you were sitting there waiting for Seungmin—what was taking him so long to get the food?—a realization struck: you just had a full on conversation with the captain of the football team and it was completely void of any awkward tension. You had only met the guy once before and merely exchanged a few words with him. You’d never thought you’d even attend a football game much less two, and now suddenly be on speaking terms with Bang Chan. Senior year was something else.

“Earth to y/n?” A hand waved in front of your face and you snapped out of your thoughts. You realized it was your best friend—he had finally gotten back with the food. “You good? Why are you spacing out?” He sat down and started munching in the kettle corn.

“Just thinking how weird it is that I ran into Chan of all people and managed to have a full on, not-awkward conversation with him.” You left out the last bit where the cheerleader came in though, because that was beyond awkward.

“How is that weird?”

“I don’t know. I just never thought I would be this far out of my safe little shelter. I mean think about it. I’ve stuck with the same handful of friends since freshman year and it wasn’t until like two weeks ago when I finally went to a school event. Now, I’m suddenly chatting up a storm with the captain of the football team and am sitting here sipping on hot chocolate waiting for the game to start, thanks for the hot cocoa by the way.” You blew glenty on the drink and observed the steam dissipate into the night air before taking a sip, pure instant mix hot chocolate flavor, just the way you liked it.

“Well, when you put it like that, I guess it is sort of odd.” Seungmin nodded in agreement before continuing, “But as long as you’re enjoying yourself, then there’s no problem. Sometimes stepping out of your comfort zone to experience new things has its benefits.”

“You’re right, I guess I’m just finally realizing that now.” You smiled to yourself and watched as the two teams raced around the field. You still lacked knowledge about football, but watching this time around felt even more exciting than the first time.

———

The team ended up winning again and of course you and Seungmin were so proud of your school for taking home another victory. Just like last time, you two waited around after the game to approach Chan and shower him with compliments and words of praise.

“I didn’t think we’d be able to do it but we did it.” Chan was still dripping sweat and catching his breath, but his eyes shone brightly with joy.

“Of course you’d be able to do it! You’re Bang Chan! The one and only.” You bobbed your head in agreement with Seungmin’s words. You had to give it to him, he was the best hype man a person could ask for.

“Thanks. Anyways, the team and I were planning to grab some pizza at the local shop nearby as a mini celebration, do you guys want to come?” Immediately you shook your head while Seungmin on the other hand had accepted the invitation without a second thought.

“I know this is a lot to ask of you and you’re probably going to say ‘sorry, I have to go finish my math project’ but please y/n. You’re already here and the night is still young.” Seungmin was clinging onto your right arm like a koala and you rolled your eyes at his antics.

“If you knew I was going to bring up my math project then why bother trying to beg? Now let go of my arm you big baby.” You tried to wriggle your arm from out of his clutch but then someone grabbed onto your other arm.

“Please y/n.” You looked to your left and Chan was acting like koala 2.0. You expected this from Seungmin, you’re long-time best friend, but you had just met Chan on one other occasion and yet he acted like you two were the best of pals. You were taken aback by this but couldn’t manage to get either of them to let go, and the close proximity to Chan was starting to make the blood rush to your cheeks. God, you had to get them off of you before your face grew any redder.

“Yes, okay! I’ll go!” They instantly detached themselves from your arms and high-fived each other, you let out a breath of relief. “One of you has to pay though, I don’t care who.”

So there you were, sitting in the red and white colored booth stuck between Seungmin and the football team captain himself with a slice of piping hot pizza in front of you. This is not how you thought things would turn out.

When everyone had arrived at the pizzeria, it was chaos. People were throwing out their orders and topping preferences and others were fighting to grab a table. You quickly told Chan your order, as he offered to pay, and pulled Seungmin to a booth before all of them were taken. Luckily, there was one last one that was unoccupied at the corner. When Chan had came to the table with the pie in hand, you thought he would take the other side of the booth but someone had spilled sticky soda all over the seat so that’s how you found yourself in this current predicament, squished between two teenage boys in a stuffy old booth, on a weekday night.

The three of you were eating and mindlessly talking when a group of girls drew closer towards you guys. You figured they must’ve wanted to talk to Chan so you continued eating quietly.

“Chan you were amazing tonight! You really led the team to another win, I knew you could do it.” You recognized her, it was the same girl from earlier—Tiffany?

“Thanks, hope you enjoyed the game.” Chan responded politely.

“Of course I did silly. Anyways, do you want to join me and the others over there?” She pointed towards the other side of the pizzeria where most of the players and cheerleaders were gathered.

“I’m good here, thanks for asking though.” She looked shocked at his response and for the first time, she averted her attention away from Chan to focus on you and Seungmin. Her eyes rolled right over Seungmin but stopped at you. Her gaze made you feel all ansty and self-conscious, but you tried your best not to show it. “Okay, well call me then.” She said before turning back and moving back to the other side of the room.

It was silent for a while before Chan broke the tension.

“So you like pineapple on pizza?” Chan said, biting into his own slice.

“Well yeah, it’s the superior topping.” The combination of sweet and salty was the best.

“Do you perhaps like mint chocolate ice cream too?” He asked, handing you a napkin as he noticed the smear of tomato sauce on your cheek. You nodded in thanks.

“It’s not my favorite but I wouldn’t pass it up if offered.” You shrugged and grabbed another slice of pizza.

“Seungmin,” Chan said, which caught the attention of the boy on the other side of you. “I like this girl. She had good tast–” Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets at his words and he didn’t manage to finish his sentence before you started coughing, almost choking on your food.

“Y/n, are you okay?” They simultaneously asked in alarm and you silently gave them the ‘ok’ hand signal while inhaling down your drink, trying to wash down the pizza and calm yourself.

“All good.” You were not all good. You were just about to choke on pizza while some guy you barely even knew proclaimed that he liked you out of the blue.

“Anyways, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted by someone choking.” You slapped his arm and he laughed in response. “She’s got good taste and quite the sense of humor. I see why you ditch me at school to hang out with her now.” He joked, was he teasing you already? This guy seriously warms up to new people fast.

Thank gosh no other light-hearted confessions were made for the rest of the dinner, you didn’t think you could handle anymore heart-stopping jokes for the night.

“Wait.” Seungmin said suddenly, just as you guys were about to start wrapping this up and leaving.

“What?” You looked at him, waiting for a reply.

“I think y/n is our lucky charm.” He said with too much confidence. You whipped your head to look at him.

“What nonsense are you sputtering now? I am no one’s lucky charm. Do I look like that tiny leprechaun on a box of cereal to you?” You asked, feigning offense.

“Well, I think you got the tiny part down.” Chan pointed out, and for the nth time you smacked him on the arm. Sure you were on the short side but there was no need to rub it in.

“That’s not what I meant y/n.” Seungmin gave you a deadpanned look before carrying on. “Anyways think about it guys, the first time y/n came to the game, the team won. Then she didn’t go to last week’s game and we lost. And today, she attended and we won again. Seeing a pattern?” He looked at you two expectedly, waiting for you guys to catch on. “I’ve connected the two dots.”

“You didn’t connect shi-” You started but Chan cut you off.

“You’re right!” His face brightened and turned towards you. “Y/n, you are our good luck charm! . You facepalmed yourself, these two shared the same three brain cells.

“Right, and you’re Santa Claus.” You said with thick sarcasm dripping from your voice, “You guys are ridiculous. Now help me clean up please.” You referred to the table which was covered in dirty napkins, crumbs, and parmesan cheese packets everywhere. Thankfully they obeyed and started clearing the mess.

“No seriously, we have been losing all season and the moment you show up, it’s like all that is erased and we win!” Chan tried to reason, but you weren’t having any of it.

“It’s just a coincidence. It’s you and your teammates that are doing the work and bringing in the luck. I am merely just an audience member, an observer.” You shook your head at them and continued wiping down the table.

“Don’t take our word for it then, but you have to go to the next game!” Seungmin announced as he tried to reorganize the condiments on the side. You had just gone to the game and no time had passed before you were urged to go to another one.

“I’ll think about it.” You peered over at Chan and he was smiling uncontrollably while Seungmin was happy dancing. What did you just get yourself into?

–––––

Ever since the spontaneous pizza meeting and the half hearted promise to attend the football games, you’ve been seeing Chan more and more at school. Sometimes you’d just notice each other in the halls and mouth “hi” or other times it was passing period and he’d see you and ask “how are you?” before the seven minutes were up. As the days continued, he just increasingly appeared in your frame of vision and it left you confused.

Both of you had been in the same grade year, at the same school for the past four years but you swore you’ve never even noticed him before and now he was everywhere. He’d be near your locker in the morning tagging alongside Seungmin, greeting you with a sunny smile and fresh look that contrasted greatly to your own glum expression and ‘just rolled out of bed’ appearance. It was seven am, you had an excuse to look like this you reasoned, making yourself feel better.

Lately, he even sat with you and your tablemates at lunch. Your group of friends was shocked at first. Questions like “why is a football player sitting with us?” and “why is the football team captain sitting with us?” were exchanged amongst the table and you didn’t know how to answer because, why was he sitting with you guys all of a sudden? Eventually everyone got used to it though; he came around so often and no one objected. Initially, your friends had thought he was the stereotypical jock that acted all mighty and superior, but soon enough they realized he was the complete opposite of that. He was nice, funny, intelligent, and easy to get along with. He’d help your friends whenever they were struggling to finish their homework last minute, and he’d join in on the games of uno, go fish, and whatever else.

Frankly, you didn’t mind his presence either and Seungmin was absolutely basking in delight because both of his best friends were now with him at school, playing the same card games and eating the same shitty school food together. You didn’t know when or how, but Chan just eased his way into your life and you had accepted it for the most part. However, there were moments when you still questioned him though, and one day you figured you might as well clear the confusion in your head.

“Hey Chan.” He was currently teaching you how to play poker.

“What’s up buttercup?”

“Don’t call me buttercup.” You fixed a glare at him. “Anyways, I hope this doesn’t come off as a weird question but, why have you hung out with us everyday at lunch?” He didn’t say anything for a second and you regretted asking.

“Hm, I guess I just like it here. Your friends are nice, Seungmin is here,” he pointed towards the boy who was on his third pack of vending machine chips. “And you’re here.” You tried not to make anything out of that last comment and brushed it off.

“What about your other friends?”

“Other friends?” He raised an eyebrow at you and continued shuffling the cards.

“You know, the people you normally hung out with before you started hanging out with us?”

“I didn’t have any friends.” He said and you scoffed, not believing it for a second.

“You? Captain of the football team. Mr. Bang Chan himself didn’t have any friends until you met us?” You said incredulously.

“I mean I had Seungmin.”

“He couldn’t have been your only friend.”

“No, I guess he wasn’t–”

“I knew it.”

“You didn’t let me finish. He wasn’t my only friend but I felt like he was my only true friend.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, it all felt so fake, so forced. Like I have my teammates and they’re chill, but we were just teammates, we didn’t hang out much besides practice or games. It’s like, just because you’re classmates, that doesn’t automatically make you all friends right?” You understood what he was saying and agreed. “And everyone else… well, it just felt ungenuine. I know many of them just tried to befriend me for the connection and to have the ability to say ‘I’m friends with the football captain’ but it wasn’t anything more.” At that point, you had wished you never pried. You felt like you had just pushed him to open Pandora’s box and that’s not what you had intended.

“Look Chan, I’m sorry I got nosy. I didn’t mean to ask you that and pry–” The apology started spilling out your mouth but the smile on his lips made you stop. “Why are you smiling? Shouldn’t you be offended and mad at me?”

“No, of course not. I know you must’ve felt weird that I randomly started hanging around you and your friends and I’m glad we got to clear up any confusion.” He said softly, looking at you from across the table. “I genuinely enjoy being around everyone at this table, especially you, so you don’t have to question it anymore. Okay?”

You kept replaying the words in your mind, ‘especially you.’ How could he say these things so easily and not realize how fast it made your heart pound or how sweaty your palms got? You couldn’t focus for the rest of lunch as he tried to teach you the ins and outs of poker.

————-

Weeks had passed and you, Seungmin, and Chan were like three peas in a pod—inseparable and going everywhere together.

One day, you guys had planned on a hang out with three spots on the schedule planned. First was to hit up the arcade—Chan’s idea—and then grab dinner at Olive Garden—Seungmin said he was craving their breadsticks—-and lastly the cherry on top would be ice cream—-your suggestion.

“Ready to get your ass handed in air hockey big shot?” You teased Chan as three headed to the arcade.

“Oh, you’re so on.” He narrowed his eyes at you in the rear view mirror and you laughed from the backseat.

“Woah, we should make this more exciting. Make it a wager.” Seungmin proposed from the passenger’s side.

“What do you have in mind?” You stuck your head in between the two seats and looked at him.

“Whoever loses...has to dress up as a fanatic at the last game of the season.”

“Isn’t the last game next week?” You asked, and the boys nodded in confirmation.

“Anyways I was thinking big fluffy tutu, face paint, a colored wig.” Seungmin listed out.

“Oh, and my jersey!” You made a disgusted face at Chan.

“Your jersey? You mean the one you sweat in and get both mud and grass stains all over?” The image of it alone was already disturbing, you couldn’t imagine actually putting it on.

“You know I wash it right?”

“Well regardless, what are we going to do if Chan loses though? He can’t do any of that, he had a uniform code to abide by.” You pointed out.

“Good point, if he loses he has to wear all of that to the after party then.”

“After party? Isn’t that only thrown when the team wins? What if the team doesn’t win?” You pointed out.

“The team will win.” Chan said with full confidence.

“No offense, but how are you so sure?”

“Because, you’re our lucky charm.”

________

“This is so unfair! He is an athlete! His hand eye coordination is way better than us common folk!” You shouted in disbelief as the last puck went into your goal, signaling that both you and Seungmin lost.

“Don’t hate the player, hate the game.” Chan teased as he proceeded to do a victory dance as you and your other friend stared at him unamused. “Oh wait. I only have one extra jersey though, so only one of you can wear it.”

“All yours Seungmin!”

“What, no way! You should wear it, you had the least amount of points between the two of us.”

“I– you– ugh!” You couldn’t argue with that. You had to accept the fate of wearing that dingy, stinky, jersey now.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’ll do my best to wash it before then.” Chan added, finding it cute how you scrunched up your nose and pouted.

“Great, how reassuring.”

“Ok that’s enough arcade for tonight. My pocket is running dry and those breadsticks are waiting.” Seungmin stated before making it towards the door with you and Chan following behind.

The night was coming to an end and you guys were at the last stop–the ice cream shop. The three of you ordered a sundae and took turns scooping from the mountain of frozen dairy, chocolate syrup, whipped cream, and rainbow sprinkles.

“Are you nervous for the last game? You're going against the toughest school right?” You asked, looking at Chan who sat on the other side of the table with Seungmin.

“A little, but for some reason I just feel really confident in the team so I think we will be fine.”

“No doubt you got this in the bag man.” Seungmin said through a mouthful of ice cream.

“Nasty! Shut your mouth while you're eating Seungmin!” You tossed a crumpled up napkin at him.

“You’re one to talk, you’re quite a messy eater yourself.” Chan mentioned, reaching over to swipe the chocolate syrup off the corner of your lips. Regardless of how close you two had gotten over these last few weeks, his little gestures like these always caught you off guard, like wiping the corner of your mouth, guiding you somewhere with his hand on the small of your back, walking you to every class period. You’ve known Seungmin for years and he never did these things! Was it because he wasn’t chivalrous enough? Or was Chan too chivalrous? You shook your head of those thoughts and helped the two finish up the sundae.

–––––––––-

This had got to be the worst outfit you ever wore you thought to yourself as you looked at your reflection in the mirror. The tulle skirt was actually cute but everything else was simply hideous. Seungmin had brought over the accessories in the early evening and you two had spent the last hour or two dressing up and getting ready for tonight’s game. You wore a wine red wig with gold stars painted across your cheeks and of course you kept your end of the deal and had Chan’s jersey on too, which surprisingly smelt of fresh linen. Seungmin on the other hand wore a bright yellow mohawk wig with half his face painted red, adorned with his very own tutu, which was layered over his pants, as well. You two looked awful but extremely hilarious.

“If I don’t get accepted into a college. I could go to the circus looking like this.”

“Clown college is always an option.” Seungmin joked and you two laughed at your appearances until there were tears in your eyes.

“Ready to go?”

“Yup, let’s blow Chan’s socks off with these outfits.”

While you two were busy getting ready for the game, Chan was trying to prepare himself too, but mentally. It wasn’t that he was nervous about the game or the team losing, he had total confidence tonight would bring in another victory. The team had been doing well so far and everyone had been practicing extra hard for this final event. What he was really nervous about was seeing you.

It had been weeks since he had first met you and the more he had gotten to know you, the more feelings he developed and the harder he fell for you. He had first seen you in the stands when Seungmin introduced you to him and he thought it was funny, yet adorable how your cheeks were stuffed like chipmunks with fried oreos. As time passed, he realized that you weren’t just cute, but so sarcastic, funny, and clever. He loved the way you made him laugh so easily and seeing your eyes turn to crescent moons whenever you smiled affected him more than you would ever know.

He was planning on confessing to you today, to finally say the words ‘I like you.’ He had tried to do it multiple times before, but he never had the courage. Today was different though. Today you’d be wearing his jersey to the game and he was going to win, afterwards you’d meet him on the field and he’d run to you to say those three words and you guys would gaze into each other's eyes under the twinkling stars before going to the after party together, officially as a couple. That’s how the scene played in his head anyways.

It was hard to not notice you when you had arrived. Both you and Seungmin stuck out like sore thumbs with the extravagant wigs and tutu combination. He couldn’t keep in his laughter and approached you two, meeting halfway.

“You guys look amazing. Stars of the show tonight.” He looked at Seungmin before switching his gaze to you. Although he admitted the outfit had some clashing elements, he still thought you looked cute and pretty as ever. Seeing you in his jersey, which was just a bit too big on you, made his heart flip. There you were smiling at him with the light shining on your face, rosy cheeks, and his name written on your backside. How could he stop himself from falling for you?

“Thanks man, if we didn’t lose that game in air hockey, we would’ve never had the excuse to dress up like this. Like the mohawk?” Seungmin pointed to his hair.

“Love it. It’s a great look on you.” He looked at Seungmin before switching his gaze to you. Although he admitted the outfit had some clashing elements, he still thought you looked cute and pretty as ever. Seeing you in his jersey, which was just a bit too big on you, made his heart flip. There you were smiling at him with the light shining on your face, rosy cheeks, and his name written on your backside. How could he stop himself from falling for you?

“We’re going to the party after the game too right? I told my parents I was going to be home late today.” You asked.

“Yeah, that’s the plan.” Chan said.

“The game is about to begin, you should get going Chan, we will be in the stands cheering for you.” You reassured him before moving towards the steps to the bleachers, he grabbed your wrist to stop you though.

“After we win tonight, meet me down on the field right after okay? Don’t wait, I have something important to tell you.”

“Okay, now go before you’re scolded by the coach!” You ran up the stairs and assumed Seungmin was right behind you, in actuality he had stayed back for a second to talk to Chan.

“Are you ready man? After you win you gotta use whatever adrenaline left and build up the courage to tell her.” Seungmin reminded Chan, hoping he wouldn’t back out of the confession again. He had been the wingman for weeks now and every time he thought Chan would do it, he didn’t. When his best friend first told him that he had a crush on your other best friend, he was momentarily appalled at the idea. However, after hearing Chan’s explanations on why he likes you and his feelings, he figured third wheeling you two wouldn’t be too bad as long as the both of you were happy, so he went along with it.

He thought you’d catch onto Chan’s hints and subtle flirting, but either you were too dense or intentionally ignored it. Regardless, he and Chan had been planning this night for too long and he could not let his friend fail again.

“Don’t worry. I’m going to do it.”

“Okay, I’m really rooting for you.”

Then Seungmin joined you in the bleachers and shortly after, the game commenced.

———-

It was intense. The opponents were just as good as the rumors made them out to be and your school’s team wasn’t leading, but they weren’t far behind either.

The other team had called for a time out and so the game was on pause. You were nervously eyeing the scoreboard and looked around in the field to find Chan. Was he feeling more pressured now? Hopefully he still had the confidence from earlier. You spotted him, with his back turned, but it was as if he knew you were looking at him because he circled around and locked eyes with you. You gave him two thumbs up and he returned the gesture.

The whistle blew and everyone got back into their positions. The time was running again and the crowd was cheering nonstop.

They had to win.

It was the first game you’d ever gone to over the last few weeks that had gone over time but surely enough, the school reigned victorious.

“Y/n, remember you had to meet Chan at the field right?” Seungmin reminded you, and thankfully he did because you were so caught up with the win that you’d forgotten for a second

“Oh, right. Are you coming?”

“No, I’ll catch up with you guys in a bit.” With that you left Seungmin and hurried down the bleachers. You had made it to the track and was halfway to the field when you noticed Chan, but he wasn’t alone.

You stopped mid-step and watched as the unknown girl wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. You couldn’t see her face form here but you had a feeling it was Tiffany again. Your eyebrows furrowed at the sight and there was a sinking feeling in your stomach.

He said he had something important to tell you. When he said that, a big part of you was looking forward to the end of the game. Not because you wanted to see them win, but because you wanted to hear him tell you what was so important. Was it that he liked you just as much as you liked him? When these feelings first developed, you tried to bury them. Not only was he Seungmin’s friend, which would make things weird, but because you weren’t sure if he was single, and even if he was, why would he like you when there were so many other girls at the school? But you were bad at burying feelings and it didn’t help that you saw him everyday at school and even more so when you hung out.

You had been hopeful though, perhaps by some miracle he had a crush on you too. But from the looks of it now, you had been wrong. So you stood there staring like a fool as the girl continued to kiss him. It must’ve been only second but it felt like forever. You snapped out of it when you realized hot tears were running down your cheeks, so you turned to leave through the school gates.

————-

Chan pushed her off and immediately put distance between himself and the girl. “What are you doing Tiffany?!”

“Why do you keep calling me Tiffany? You used to call me Tiff or princess.” She said, stomping her feet out of frustration. Chan wanted to roll his eyes at her childish behavior.

“That was before.” Before was when Chan and Tiffany were together and known as the ‘it’ couple amongst the school. She was the head cheerleader and he was team captain, it was just like all those cheesy teen rom-coms. At the time, he had never dated anyone before and thought what they had was fun, but there was no real chemistry. It had lasted for almost a year but Chan had broken it off. “We’re not together anymore.”

“Then let’s get back together.” She reached out to him but he stepped back.

“No, there’s no chance for us anymore Tiffany. I gotta go find someone.” So he left the flabbergasted girl in the middle of the field as he ran off in search of another girl who was in a brightly colored tutu and the jersey with his name on it. With no luck he saw Seungmin and went up to him.

“Where is she?” Chan asked anxiously.

“What do you mean? I thought she was with you.” Seungmin asked in a wary tone.

“What? No, I haven’t seen her.”

“Chan, she left right after the game ended to look for you. How can you possibly be telling me you missed the girl in a bright ass wig and a tulle skirt?” He asked in disbelief.

“Oh shi—“

————

Thankfully the walk home wasn’t too bad, besides having the cold air nip at your bare skin, it wasn’t a very long walk and before you knew it you were already on the front porch unlocking the door.

Your parents were already fast asleep and you didn’t want to wake them so you gently closed the door and made way to your room. Your reflection in the mirror revealed the streaks of eyeliner that were smudged around your eyes and the face paint was no longer intact. Washing your face, you tore off all the ridiculous clothes and slipped on your oversized t-shirts and sweats.

This was so stupid. You felt like a protagonist in one of those typical romance films which is the last thing you had wanted. There you were wrecked in tears, crushing over some guy on a Friday night and he didn’t even realize it. The game was over so he was probably at the after party with that girl right now, meanwhile you were sulking under the covers in bed.

The phone on your nightstand was chiming non-stop and it dawned on you that you just left Seungmin without a single word. Quickly you swiped your screen open and went to your messages.

Over thirty-two texts–twelve of which were from Seungmin and the rest were all from Chan. You disregarded the latter and tapped on your best friend’s name.

(8:42 pm)

[ seungminnie ] hey, wya?

(8:45 pm)

[ seungminnie ] r u in the bathroom?

(8:46 pm)

[ seungminnie ] wait, did u leave already?

(9:04 pm)

[ you ] yeah, i was feeling tired so i left. sorry, hope you have fun at the party tho.

You hit send and shut off your phone for the rest of the night. The rest of the night was uneventful as you laid awake, running through everything that had led you up to this point. From the first football game, meeting Chan, befriending him, falling for him, then being crestfallen because of him.

This is why you always stuck to the things you knew, the things you were comfortable with. It had been like this for so long and the one time you finally tried to live life a little bit carefree with less restraints, it backfires. You wanted to blame him for causing this pain in your chest and the waterworks, but at the end of it all, it was your fault for thinking things would be different. Meeting Chan made you optimistic; perhaps those stereotypes about football players and high school kids were wrong. It was your fault for stepping outside of your safe little bubble and expecting things to be okay. You were naive.

————

The afterparty was a bust. After Seungmin had received the text from you, he informed Chan and the two of them were no longer in the mood to go, but everyone else was still in a celebratory mood and the team ushered Chan to join. How could the team captain not go to the party?

So there he was, sitting on the couch while Seungmin was off trying to grab more sodas. He had plastered on a fake smile when people greeted him. Sure he was happy that they had won, but he didn’t feel like dancing, or mingling, or whatever else teenagers did at parties. All he could think about was how he messed up again at trying to confess to you. You must’ve seen what happened, there was no other reason for you to leave so abruptly like that. He had sent so many texts, sporadic apologies mixed with incoherent explanations. All left unread, unresponded. How was he going to fix this? You clearly didn’t even want to talk to him.

Seungmin came back with two cans in hand and Chan thanked him before popping it open with a satisfying fizz. His friend joined him on the couch and for a while, they just sat quietly, occasionally sipping on the sweet drink while the room around them continued to move to the music and muddled conversations filled the atmosphere. Finally, one of them spoke.

“What am I going to do?” Chan asked, defeat lined his voice.

“Do you really like her man?” Seungmin already knew the answer, but he had to ask.

“Yeah, I really do.” He said without a moment’s hesitation. Chan didn’t have much wisdom or experience when it came to relationships. He’s had crushes on different people before and many have tried to get his attention but none of them had the same effect on him as you did.

“Then wait until she’s ready to approach you again and fight for her. It’s going to take time but if you want to make it happen, you have to try.”

Seungmin was right. This wasn’t going to be simple, but he had to try. For you, he would.

————

You tried to recover over the weekend and Seungmin sent you some texts, checking up on you to ask if you were alright. You were grateful for his concern and reassured him that you were okay, and in a way, it was a half lie, half truth. It was going to take more than two days to get over heartache, but you were prepared to let it go and move on, especially when you realized that it was your mistake to begin with and that even if Chan didn’t like you that way, you still enjoyed having him as a friend. All these weeks you spent with him brought you happiness and you didn’t want to erase all of that just because of some silly feelings.

Coming to that conclusion, you finally opened the texts that he had sent but you had been ignoring for the last three days.

(Friday 8:50 pm)

[ chan ] seungmin told me you left, i hope you made it home safely

(Friday 8:51 pm)

[ chan ] he told me u were going to meet me after the game. u must’ve seen us. im sorry

It was difficult to continue reading as your eyes began to blur but you swiped away the tears that threatened to spill and kept scrolling.

(Friday 8:53 pm)

[ chan ] i really wanted to talk to u. Ik what you must be thinking but it’s nothing, i promise. she isn’t my girlfriend. we used to date but that was a long time ago. it's over now.

[ chan ] please reply.

[ chan ] im sorry y/n. seriously, im so sorry.

(Friday 9:27 pm)

[ chan ] i’ll wait for u until ur ready to talk to me. gn

That was the last text he sent you. It was just a few sentences but you let out a shaky breath and tossed your phone to the side. He wanted to talk to you, and you wanted to talk to him too. Was it just a big misunderstanding? He said the girl wasn’t his girlfriend, but rather an ex. That didn’t automatically guarantee he was single though, did it? Also, if she was an ex, why did he kiss her then? You groaned and fell into your bed, face planting into the pillows.

This was so confusing. You should’ve never developed feelings for him. Whether he was single or not shouldn’t matter to you anymore, you just wanted to joke around, make sarcastic comments with each other, and be platonic friends like before. It was less stressful and complicated that way.

————

Monday rolled around and you gave yourself a mini pep talk before walking through the school doors. You were determined to face him and not break down. This was going to be fine. You whispered to yourself as you spotted Seungmin near your locker, Chan wasn’t with him. Both a little disappointing, yet relieving.

“Morning gorgeous, you doing well?” Seungmin leaned against your locker door as you grabbed your belongings.

“Well hello to you too gorgeous.” You joked, no matter how bad your weekend was, having your best friend nearby always cheered you up. “I’m doing alright this morning, woke up on the right side of the bed.”

“That’s good, um, are you going to talk to him today?” He asked cautiously, hoping that it didn’t come off too pushy or nosy.

“Yeah. He said he needed to talk to me after the game right? Might as well see what he had to say.” You shut the metal door and together, you and Seungmin walked to first period.

Half the school day had passed and the bell rang, signaling that it was lunch. This was it, you were going to face him now. You were afraid he’d avoid you because he didn’t sneak up behind you in the halls or walk your classes today like he usually did, but you saw his figure sitting at the lunch tables through the glass windows. Slowly you made your way to the bench. His back was turned to you so you gently poked his shoulder; he turned and looked up, a gentle smile spread across his face when his chocolate brown eyes locked onto yours.

“Hey.”

“Hi.” He breathed out, standing up to match you. “Can we go somewhere to talk?” His hands were shoved in his pockets and he looked at you nervously.

“Yeah.”

He led the way and you stuck close behind him. Soon the school’s garden came into view and thankfully most people didn’t come here, it was sort of hidden behind all the buildings, so you two had the area to yourself. It was so quiet and mellow here, there weren’t many flowers in bloom due to the recent season change, but it was still very beautiful.

You sat on the little wooden bench that was placed in the center and he did too, leaving some room in between you two.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” You started, looking down at your lap to avoid looking at him.

“I’m sorry. That’s the first thing I want to tell you.” He had all his attention on you. Chan paused for a moment before continuing, “You saw me with that girl the other night didn’t you?” You nodded your head wordlessly. His shoulders slumped at your confirmation but he figured you did.v“I know what you saw must’ve been really bad and you probably came up with many assumptions but I’m here to tell you that none of that is true. We aren’t together.” He said firmly.

“Then why did you kiss her?” Your voice was a mere whisper.

“I didn’t kiss her, she just came onto me and I was shocked. Once I had realized what was happening and who it was, I immediately stopped it and told her that she and I were completely over.” Some of the pain in your heart eased hearing this but you didn’t want to be too optimistic.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I need you to know that I am not with her. I am not with anyone.” He said vehemently, leaving no room for doubts. “Y/n, please look at me.” When you didn’t, he gently grasped your chin and turned your head so he could finally meet your eyes. You had a dejected expression and your eyes were glazed over with trapped tears. He cupped your cheek with the palm of his hand; the warmth and closeness made your heart flutter.

“Y/n.”

“Mmhhm?” You didn’t have the ability to form words at the moment. His touch made you lightheaded and you couldn’t think straight.

“I like you.” His gaze never tore away from yours.

“What?” Your forehead wrinkled in puzzlement. He liked you? Bang Chan, captain of the football team. The boy everyone wanted to be friends with and the guy nearly all the girls swooned for. Bang Chan liked you?

“I. Like. You. Not just as a friend. I like you as a person that I want to go on dates with, hold hands with, make happy memories and experience the highs and lows of life with.” He was so close to you now that you could feel his breath on your cheeks. “You are the girl I wanted to hold in the middle of the field that night and say these words to. I’m sorry that didn’t happen but it’s better late than never.” The words were slowly processing through your head but unconsciously, a grin formed on your lips and red was rushing to your cheeks.

“Chan, I like you too.” The words came out so easily and the boy immediately broke out into the brightest smile you’ve ever seen.

He leaned in close but before your lips connected he whispered, “Can I kiss you now?”

“Yes.” If someone were to have told you a few months back that you’d be kissing Chan under the cloud-dotted, blue autumn sky after he just confessed his feelings for you, you would’ve guessed they were insane, but there you were now doing exactly that and nothing could’ve made you happier.

You had always been afraid of trying new things and straying from your typical routine because you didn’t know what challenges life had in store once you’ve ventured too far. Undoubtedly, stepping out of your comfort zone was difficult. Nevertheless, it was worth it because it led you here to this very moment.

also here is my masterlist in case you want to read my other works!

#skz oneshots #stray kids oneshot #skz au #stray kids au #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #bang chan x reader #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #skz angst #stray kids angst #bang chan #stray kids masterlist #skz masterlist

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quinncupine · 3 years

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Hiiii quinn! I never realised you did requests but if it would be fine (and also because its my sole goal) could you do a boom boom boi and izubby with having their own cat or dog as a pet??? I'm seriously thinking that boom boom boi would be both a cat and dog person, don't u agree? (Ily lots and don't feel pressured to do this if you have a lot of stuff going on!)

Hi Dorki! I'm finally making my way through my requests and I was really excited to write this one! Okay, hope you like it!

Quinns Masterlist

Wanna request something?

The Boys with Pets

Word Count: 1,750

Featuring: Izuku Midoriya and Katsuki Bakugo!

Warnings: dogs, cats, cursing

Izuku Midoriya

Now Izuku loves pretty much all animals, but I can totally see him getting a dog. Dogs are loyal and full of energy just like a certain green-haired hero. The perfect duo.

He would probably rescue one from the pound, the one with the biggest, saddest, cutest eyes because how could he not? But someone has to go with him because he'd try to rescue them all if there was no one there to stop him. Once a hero, always a hero I suppose.

I'm thinking for names, he would definitely pick a name that reflects his favorite heroes. Don't be surprised if he names his dog something super cheesy like Mighty or Rocky…

Wait, okay, I've decided, he names his dog Mighty and that is the hill I will die on.

The life of a hero is quite busy so when he goes off on long missions, he drops the dog off at his mom's house. Inko has fallen in love with this sweet pup, so much so that she sometimes begs him to stop by with the dog for a visit. It's the closest thing she's got to grandbabies at the moment, she'll take what she can get :)

Now, this cute pup draws in the attention of just about everyone so he's gotten an influx of attention and a few numbers slipped in his hand during their walks, much to his flustered surprise.

Best wingman ever.

This dog goes on regular runs with Izuku and sometimes even helps him with training. I'm thinking a Collie or an Aussie would just be the perfect fit for him to keep up with his personality and lifestyle. He needs an active dog!

I can see it now, he goes on his daily morning runs with this cute Lil furry training buddy and they race the whole way! A few regulars on the trail know about this and it's become sort of a tradition to cheer the two on as they pass.

...

The morning air was crisp with the slight scent of the coming autumn, the perfect morning for a run. Izuku, dressed in his usual training wear, had a steady rhythm going for the last forty minutes, letting out even, controlled breaths. This was the easy part of the run, a warm-up if anything, and he hadn't even broken a sweat yet. The canine jogging by his side was enjoying the dewy morning air as well, tongue happily flopping out the side of her mouth. The shared morning ritual between man and man's best friend: Mighty.

Her tail picked up speed, wagging uncontrollably as they neared the bend where the giant jagged rock towered over the path. It was the place marker to start the race. A three-mile run to the top of the hill located at the center of the park. It was also Mighty's favorite part of the morning.

"Ready girl?" Izuku grinned down at the ecstatic dog who barked in reply.

The instant the two of them passed the big rock, they both broke out in full speed, leaving behind a cloud of dust. Happy barks filled the air as she gained the upper hand. Izuku laughed as the dog turned to look back at him lagging behind her. He always did these races without his quirk to assist him. It was only fair and it helped him work on his natural stamina in case he was ever in a situation where he couldn't use his quirk. Always good to be prepared.

He watched as she bounded up the first steep hill on the trail. There were a few small hills on this route, but this one was the hardest to climb and Mighty had the advantage with her four legs so she always managed to pull ahead first. She stopped at the top and barked him on before quickly disappearing over the crest.

When he reached the top, he stopped for just a second to take in his surroundings. This part of the park was a heavily wooded area with numerous trails that many people used to hike or run. It also served as a great view of the city skyline and he couldn't help but stop and admire the rising sun from between the foggy buildings every time. Then Mighty barked to pull him out of his thoughts.

"It's not over yet!" He called after her and raced down the hill, putting on an extra burst of speed to easily close the distance.

Tail wagging, she nipped playfully at his feet as they sprinted along the path, side by side. There weren't many people out this early so he usually had the trail to himself. The only sounds were the wind in the trees, the leaves crunching under feet and paws, Mighty barking beside him, and his own unrestrained glee as they ran together.

These were the mornings he loved. Just the two of them, away from the stresses that came with pro-hero work. He wouldn't trade being a hero for anything, but sometimes it got to be too much so coming here to clear his mind with a little run was always a cathartic release, only made better by the furry companion by his side.

The short bridge that arched over the creek signaled the last mile. Getting more serious, Izuku pulled ahead of Mighty, not able to hold back the giant grin as he streaked across the bridge, startling a few birds off the railings which Mighty barked at as she came up behind him.

Up ahead was a large open meadow with a small duck pond near the center. A few benches were scattered about the path and he saw the same elderly couple sitting in their usual spot with a bag of rice and seed to feed the plethora of ducks waddling around their feet.

"You got him this time Mighty!" The old man looked up as the two of them zipped down the path towards the couple.

"Show 'em what girls can do!" The woman cracked a smile, waving her hands.

"Morning Mr. and Mrs. Fujino!" Izuku waved as he passed. "Don't count me out yet!"

Mighty barked her greeting and took a detour, herding some ducks closer to the couple then with a quick lick to Mr. Fujino's hand, she sprinted back to catch up to Izuku.

The Fujino's marked the last leg of the race. The only thing left was to climb the top of the largest hill in the park to the old oak tree at the top. That was the finishing line. It was always a gamble as to who finished first every day, but Mighty sure had a competitive spirit.

Izuku pumped his legs as he steadily made his way up to the dirt trail, Mighty just behind him before she suddenly veered left and disappeared into the shrubbery. He was so focused on the tree that slowly came into view just around the curve as he neared the top that he didn't notice.

Just as the path leveled out, almost to the finish line, he glanced back to see no sign of his dog. The tree was a few feet away when a furry mass ambushed him from the side, knocking him clean off his feet. The pro hero landed in the grass with a heavy Oof. Sitting on his chest was Mighty, looking quite proud of herself.

"Cheater!" He laughed, trying his best to hold back the slobbery licks she was determined to give him. "Okay, okay, I'll call it a tie!"

Katsuki Bakugo

Now Katsuki on the other hand would totally be a cat person. Not that he has anything against dogs, but cats are more his style. They don't need constant attention and are pretty much self-sufficient. Just the way he likes it.

That being said, Katuski would go all out on toys and the latest gizmos to take care of his cat. Has a self-cleaning litter box, a waterfall bowl, an automatic feeder, etc. You get the picture.

Oh, and toys galore. If he has space, this cat is getting a personal jungle gym that lets him walk up to the ceiling. S.P.O.I.L.E.D.

Doesn't like to tell people just how much he actually loves this cat because he's never been one to express emotions, but this cat just gets him to his core. They share the same wavelength and he appreciates that. The cat is the only one he trusts to open up to, so sometimes you might catch him ranting to the poor thing who just stares back with big wide eyes and occasional meows. Yup, totally gets him.

I see him with a super chill cat, like maybe a Ragdoll or a Russian Blue. Something that tolerates his constant screaming and explosions.

This guy is just as bad at names. It'll definitely be something long and dramatic like Lord Cat Explosion Demon God of Furballs. Yep. He doesn't take criticism so most people call him Lord Furballs, much to his disdain.

Katsuki won't ask for attention from the cat, but the little furry feline is a total cuddler and will often find itself curled up in his lap or even on his neck if Katsuki's sitting on the couch. You better believe this guy won't be moving until that cat decides it's time to move. He's been late to meetings with friends because of this cuddly cat.

He's a hero so this cat is definitely being treated right. Katuski is no slacker when it comes to caring for his lil buddy. The vet is on speed dial should anything ever happen.

Did someone say a custom-made collar that matches his hero costume to a tee?

He's never loved anything more.

...

"Uh, hey Bakubro, why is your cat glaring at me?" Ejiro asked, staring down at the feline.

"What?" Katsuki didn't even bother to look up from his laptop.

"Your cat. It's giving me the evil eye. I thought it was supposed to be friendly." The red-haired hero frowned, not able to break eye contact with the cat. "I don’t think it likes me."

The small furry creature had lazily curled up in the sunspot next to Katsuki's feet, purring away without a care in the world. It seemed harmless enough, except for the heavy glare it was shooting Ejiro's way.

"Heh," Katsuki finally glanced down and crossed his arms. "He's not glaring. That's just his face."

"Ah," Ejiro nodded, "like father like son."

"What the hell's that supposed to mean!?"

Taglist: @thecindy @peachsenpie @awilddreamerwrites @miriobaby @kiyoobi @dragonsdreamoffire @amive2567 @justscar @kenmaskitten10 @freckledoriya

#izuku midoriya #katsuki bakugou #bnha headcanons #mha headcanons #izuku midoriya headcanons #katsuki bakugou headcanons #my pets #cute dogs #cats #yes i did name his dog Mighty #come at me #I got really inspired so i wrote lil stories to go with these headcannons #i laughed when I wrote Katsuki's #of course that cat would pick up on his mannerisms while being a precious sweetheart #and that dog is literally just Izuku in dog form so #this turned out so goofy #lol #request

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crystalirises · 3 years

Text

NPC Fundy AU

Essentially, Fundy is not part of the main canon. He's just a person living within the SMP. However, that doesn't mean he doesn't have any ties to the people within canon...

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31985884/chapters/79557208

His papa had promised him that he’d be back.

That was five years ago. Now, there was but a rotting cottage behind him and a god with an offer before him. Fundy glanced down at the god’s open hands, the paleness of their gloves reminded him of pure white snow. Their head was spherical, not quite a face but he could make out an X and D, which looked like they were perpetually joyful. He hadn’t felt that happy in a long, long time. The god had followed him from the river that he had been fishing from, whispering sweet words into his ears, promises of a better life in a better world. Fundy couldn’t trust them, couldn’t trust in promises. Promises were meant to be broken, as his papa had so demonstrated.

No. He wouldn’t trust in the god’s promises. What he wanted was a deal.

The god was surprised at the little fox’s audacity, but they let out a giggle, agreeing to the proposition. It wasn’t an issue to them anyway. So the god asked what the boy wanted, expecting the usual wish of treasure beyond any man’s wildest imagination. Yet the answer shocked them. For the boy had asked to be let into their world, in exchange for his memories. Not quite the deal. Not one that they found to be fair. But if that is what the boy wanted, then they shall agree to it.

Though Fundy did intervene before the deal was to be set. He wanted to leave a letter.

The god let him, after all, it would be the last act he’d do in this life.

Fundy had rushed back into the home that he’d known for most of his life. He had been eight when his father had left, promising a quick return and a gift for Fundy once he came back. He waited through all five springs. He waited through all five summers. He waited through all five autumns. He waited through all of the five winters, when all he could do was throw in scraps of wood and clothing into the fireplace to keep himself warm and chewed on grass to keep himself alive, but his papa never came back. So, he picked up a pen and paper, and began to write:

‘Papa… Wilbur, something interesting happened today. A god approached me today, and asked if I wanted to go with them. I think I will. I miss you, everyday. But I think it’s time for me to go. I pray that you find this letter, and that you may be happy knowing that I am in a better place.

I’ll always I love Love you Goodbye.’

He left the letter on the table, trusting that it would stay and not be lost to the wind. Fundy rushed back to the god, whose hand had reached out to hold his. And off they went to the Essempy.

---

When he first met General Wilbur Soot, his first thought was that the man was charming. Fundy had been working on one of his many inventions when someone had chanced upon his house. He opened it to find a man in a blue uniform. He need not look at the flag that was finely stitched onto the man’s jacket. Everyone within the Essempy had heard of the General of L’Manburg.

Most had called him persuasive and revolutionary. Others called him a lunatic and a hopeless dreamer. Fundy had neither opinion, for he had no care towards the coming L’Manberg-Essempian War. He knew that L’Manburg was short on supplies and on men, and the general of a losing country could only be at his doorstep for one particular purpose. Fundy had expected many promises to be made, anything to get another soldier in L’Manburg’s ranks.

He had not expected to be pulled into a nearly suffocating hug.

It took a while for him to free himself from the man’s grasp. Still, the man held onto him.

At least the promises had been proposed, like he’d expected them to be. The General promised freedom, a life away from tyranny. While the man continued on with his calculated rambling, Fundy couldn’t help but listen, a part of him wondering why this scene felt so familiar. Fundy standing before a man on the precipice of making history while continuously staring out from the safety of his den. The man laid a hand on his cheek, crocodile tears flowing past his cheeks.

The general then promised his safety, and Fundy couldn’t help but feel like the man hadn’t promised anyone else that. Yet he was not the type of person to trust in promises. This man knew the game of charm and wit, knew the proper words to sway people to his side. Fundy would not have it. He was content to live his days in the sereneness and simplicity of his home. Besides, he’d heard the rumors, heard of the masked man that ruled over the lands of the Essempy. The General of L’Manburg may not fear Dream’s retribution, but Fundy sure did fear his punishment.

In truth, the promises felt like a luren’s lure. Ones that would lead him to his own demise.

The man still stood before him, crying out to a stranger who did not know him. Fundy let him cry, for there was nothing wrong in that. The general may be a siren, but he was still a man. Fundy would give him this moment of weakness, though he knew not of what the man cried for.

It was a pity really, moving though his promises may be, Fundy did not believe in promises.

Fundy smiled, and declined to join L’Manburg’s side.

---

When he first meets President Wilbur Soot, he is genuinely surprised to find the man alive, albeit down to two lives. He hadn’t meant to go near L’Manburg, hadn’t even known where it was, but he’d spotted the president. Well, the president spotted him. The man had quickly rushed after him, the same charming smile on the man’s face while he pulled Fundy deeper into the country.

He held on tightly to the basket of pastries on his arm, forcing down his irritation while the man gave him an extensive and thorough tour of the nation. The president seemed particularly fond of the blackstone walls that surrounded L’Manburg, stating that they were built for his beloved son.

Fundy nodded along, letting the man tell him tales of the nation he and his brothers had fought so hard for, trying to quell his rising curiosity from getting the better of him. No one had ever mentioned that the president had a son, only two brothers. The president continued to pull him along, introducing him to a few residents that walked by them. A few of the people’s faces were familiar to him, and Fundy was quite surprised to find former Essempians within L’Manburg.

Their little walk finally came to a lull by the time they reached a van… with a burning hot dog on top of it. Fundy averted his gaze, coughing down a chuckle at the oddity of such a vehicle.

“How do you like our nation so far?”

Odd. The president’s wording of the question felt too personal.

“A good nation, I suppose.” Fundy glanced around, pursing his lips together. The ruler of the Essempy would not take this transgression lightly, yet these people walked around like they were finally free. He shook his head at the falsities. He glanced over at Wilbur, taking in the details that people did not wish to see so they chose not to see. This man was ambitious. A charming and ambitious man. Fundy could only hope the ambition didn’t fall into obsession. “L’Manburg seems to be thriving. I suppose congratulations are in order. You won the war, how impressive.”

“It is. We won. We have independence!” The man clasped a hand around his shoulders, nearly jostling the pastries off the basket. He tried to give the president a smile, happy for the man but he did want to get home. He would also rather not think about how the man kept wording his statements so personally. Fundy moved away from the president, taking a small step back to show that he was leaving. The man’s eyes seemed to widen. “You have a home here, Fundy.”

He nods in understanding, an awkward smile showing on his face.

Fundy declines the president's offer.

---

When he first meets the exiled ex-President Wilbur Soot, he nearly slams the door on the man’s face. The man, for lack of a better description, looked like shit. It was the dead of night when the man had come to visit him, the scent of gunpowder clinging to the man. Fundy, despite his better judgment, invited the man in for a midnight cup of tea. It felt odd to be in the man’s presence. He didn’t feel safe around him, didn’t feel like the man was the same man he’d been before. Fundy glanced up, nearly jumping once he realized that Wilbur hadn’t stopped staring at him at all.

“You hate me.” The man’s words were a surprise. His ears flicked up, his tail wrapping around his waist. Fundy hadn’t the faintest idea where the man had gotten that idea. Wilbur hadn’t made a move to grab at his teacup, glaring at it like it was poisoned. “No… you must despise me.”

“Wilbur, I don’t know you enough to hate you.”

“That’s my fault, isn’t it?” The man suddenly stood up, grabbing the tea cup before smashing it against the ground. Fundy flinched, arms wrapping around himself in fear that Wilbur might turn his attention to him. He wasn’t much of a fighter. Luckily, the man fell into a tired rant of his miserable life. Fundy couldn’t understand a single word, but he could hear the pain in Wilbur’s voice, the regret. “This whole shitshow. It’s my fucking fault. Everything I care about is gone!”

“I— Wil…” Fundy rose from his seat, mindful not to step on the shards of glass on the floor. He’d have to clean that in the morning. He laid a gentle hand on Wilbur’s shoulder, shaking him back to reality. “You were a great general once. You can get your nation back. I know you can.”

“THAT DAMNED NATION IS FUCKING GONE! IT’S BEEN GONE SINCE THAT FUCKING TRAITOR LED US TO THEIR DEATHS! … It’s been gone since you told me you wouldn’t live within our nation’s walls…” Wilbur sniffled, slamming a hand against the table. Fundy tried to ignore the last statement. He had no idea why Wilbur was stating such an accusation, but he could only imagine why. Perhaps the man wasn’t even seeing him. “L’Manburg is gone. The idea of that nation never even left my imagination. How could it when the reason I founded it for wasn’t even with me? That nation has to go, my little champion.”

He tried not to flinch when the man suddenly embraced him.

Fundy couldn’t help but lean in, wondering if this was how it felt to have a parent.

Really… He shouldn’t have been surprised to hear about Wilbur’s death a few weeks later.

Still… he couldn’t help but mourn for the man anyway.

---

When he first meets Ghostbur, the ghost insists that he stay with Fundy.

He even brought along a friend, Friend the Sheep.

The others - Wilbur’s friends and family - had glared at him in resentment, except for a few who had an understanding look in their eyes. They seemed to agree, most reluctantly, that Ghostbur should stay with him. Fundy found that quite odd, but they had insisted - some desperately and others threateningly - that Ghostbur stay with him. He couldn’t do much since the ghost had chosen to barge into his den everytime he had the chance to. Fundy found it… endearing.

Although… he wished the ghost wasn’t so… clingy. Fundy could barely breathe around him.

Ghostbur was cold, not personality-wise but physically. He had no idea of space, always inserting himself into every little detail of Fundy’s life. Worst still, the ghost treated him like he was a helpless child, even once trying to carry him up into his arms like he had the strength to do so. Fundy was eighteen. The ghost insisted on always hugging him, calling him ‘his little champion’ and every other petname that he could think of. At first, it had been nice… to be wanted by someone in such a way, but overtime, it became too overbearing for him to handle.

Yet each time he looked into those broken dark eyes, he couldn’t help but sigh and let the ghost do what he wanted to do. Ghostbur was imagining him for someone else, and everyone expected him to help the ghost remember. If this was the cure, then he’d gladly go on with the charade.

It’s what he would want anyone to do for him… help him remember.

He spends most of his mornings tending to his farm with Ghostbur, the ghost either singing a little song with his guitar or telling tales of the life that he could remember. In the afternoons, they would go over to New L’Manburg and fish with Philza, Ghostbur’s dad who seemed all too guilty to be around Ghostbur. In the nighttime, he would either have tea with the ghost who would be reading in the corner of their shared home or Ghostbur would pull him outside and they would make Chinese lanterns. Fundy found that he liked those moments with Ghostbur the most.

It was an odd companionship, but Fundy found himself feeling less alone with the ghost. Though he knew that the friendship wouldn’t last long. In the end, Fundy was nothing but a stranger.

When Tommy was exiled, Ghostbur followed after him.

Huh… Maybe Tommy was Wilbur’s son?

---

He met him again. The real him. The live version.

Fundy stood at his den’s open doorway, staring up at the man who crawled his way out of hell.

He heard the rumors.

He didn’t think a man could ever cheat death. But then…

Did he expect anything less from Wilbur Soot?

The man that stood before him, frightened him.

This man didn’t have the general’s charm that made Fundy trust him.

This man didn’t have the president’s hospitality that made Fundy like him.

This man didn’t have the exile’s desperation that Fundy felt sorry for.

This man didn’t have Ghostbur’s amnesia, which Fundy sympathized with him for.

This man was…

Fundy wasn’t sure.

He was bolder. That’s how Fundy would describe him.

He had grinned widely at Fundy, pulled him close with the intent to never let go.

He called him his little champion.

He called him son.

And when the man reached for his hand and asked Fundy to go with him.

Fundy said yes.

He wasn’t sure what the man would have done…

If he’d said no.

#fundy #wilbur soot #dream smp #dream smp fanfic

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escapewriter · 4 years

Text

Trouble in Paradise

pairing : sunwoo x reader

genre : slight fluff, angst

type : drabble

wc : 671

warnings : mentions of cheating

prompts : “who hurt you?” “don’t be scared, i’m right here.”

main masterlist || tbz written masterlist

read this if you would like to request something

You sat on the swingset in the park you grew up in, feeling the cool autumn breeze blow against your tear-stained face. You took a deep breath in through your nose, smelling the barbeque from the backyard a few houses down. You repeated the steps a few more times until the tears began to dry and your heartbeat calmed down.

You were scared. You had no clue what was going to happen with your relationship or friendship now that you know they were cheating on you with one of your friends. It was heartbreaking and difficult to process because you had no idea what to do or who to go to. It wasn’t until you heard a familiar voice call out your name. You were scared to look at who called for you, fear consuming your emotions as you let tears well up in your eyes, now falling down onto your lap. The voice got loud, the footsteps crunching the dead leaves below sounding harsh as if they were stomping with anger.

“Hey, are you okay?” You looked up to meet the concerned eyes of Sunwoo, the boy next door. As soon as he met your watery eyes, he immediately rushed to your side. “Hey, hey. Don’t be scared, I’m right here.” He wrapped one arm around you, rubbing your cold arm in attempts to keep you warm as you cried silently. He stayed quiet, not wanting to ask you anything yet until you calmed down.

He knew about your relationship, and he hated the person you were dating. It’s no surprise that Sunwoo has a massive crush on you, and it’d be mean if he wished that you were crying because of them, but he can’t help but hope that it was so he could have a chance. Not right now of course.

You calmed down your breathing, feeling your head lull to the side, leaning against Sunwoo’s shoulder. You heard his beating heart, felt the heat of his body radiating onto you, his scent filling your nostrils — it was relaxing.

“You can ask now, Sunwoo.”

He shifted next to you, clearing his throat a bit as he hesitated, “Who hurt you? I mean, you don’t have to, uhm, answer if you’re not comfortable.” You laughed softly, shaking your head, “It’s fine, we’ve known each other long enough to be comfortable with telling each other things.” He smiled bitterly at that but just went along with it. “I guess you can say there’s trouble in paradise. They have been cheating on me with one of my friends for god knows how long and well, I have no idea what to do.”

Sunwoo was in shock, but he was also angry. He was angry at the fact that the person who said they will care for you, love you and protect you ends up being the one you need protection from. He knows he would treat you better and give you all the love in the world that you deserve because that’s how much he cares for you. He wishes he confessed to you first.

“Well, what you can do is cry.” You looked at him, giving him a look that tells him you’ve been doing that already. “Yeah I know you have been crying, but I’m saying to cry some more. It’s good for you and it makes you feel a little bit better once you let out your pain and frustrations.” You nodded, shivering as the breeze of the wind blew harder.

Sunwoo took off his jacket and placed it on your shoulders, smiling as you thanked him, “Then, after you cry your eyes out, you take care of yourself and who you are as a person. You tell yourself that you are as rare as a diamond and as bright as the sun.” You looked into his eyes, seeing the meaning of his words pour out in front of you, “And maybe one day, you’ll find someone who will treat you that way you deserve to be treated.”

#the boyz #the boyz imagines #the boyz reactions #the boyz scenarios #the boyz drabbles #the boyz oneshots #sunwoo #kim sunwoo #tbz sunwoo #tbz #escapewriter.request #escapewriter drabble

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amjustagirl · 4 years

Text

Chapters: one. ~ two. ~ three. ~ four. ~ five. ~ six. ~ seven.

Wordcount: 2.3k

Summary:

Akaashi Keiji catches glimpses of another life in his dream.He dreams of fields of endless gold, of constellation of stars that light up the night sky. He hears echoes of the birdsong in her laugher, the songs to the gods in the wind.

(Loosely inspired by Kimi No Nawa)

Masterlist link here

AO3 link here

Author’s note: This fic is a little different from my usual work, so I’m a little nervous about publishing it. If you do like it, would love if you leave a comment / reblog / anything!

If you’d like to be included in the taglist, do drop me a msg/ask!

‘It’s for my mother’s birthday’, Akaashi says, and the florist tilts her head in thought, a dimple appearing on her right cheek.

‘What about pink carnations? They’re pretty and well within your budget’.

‘Good choice – plus it means that I’ll never forget her’ he says, nodding in approval and she bustles around to gather her materials, fingers nimbly twining tissue and ribbons around the blooms.

‘Oh - ’, he begins to say in surprise when he notices she’s included a bunch of baby’s breath in the little bouquet, because a university student’s budget only stretches that much.

‘Don’t worry, it’s on the house’, she hastily reassures him, her curly hair bouncing as she shakes her head. ‘I just thought it’s sweet you’re buying flowers for your mother.

‘Thanks.’ He smiles at her. She grins back and promptly trips over her own feet as she hands the bouquet over to him. ‘Watch out’, he calls, reaching over the counter to grab her elbow in an attempt to steady her.

‘Sorry! That’s so clumsy of me. Um – I’ve been meaning to ask you for some time, but would you like to grab coffee with me someday?’ she asks, cheeks flushing as pink as the flowers in his arms.

‘Oh’, he says, dumbstruck. ‘I – uh’

She must read the hesitation in his face because she shakes her head self-deprecatingly, saving him from floundering awkwardly. ‘Sorry! I don’t know what came over me – please forget I ever said that!’ Then she bows and ushers him out of the store, waves away his apologies with a laugh and calls after him to ‘please come again!’

His mother fusses over him when he presents his bouquet of carnations to her, bending down to press a kiss to her cheek. ‘Why does it look like university is treating you so badly?

‘I’m fine, mum’, he tries to distract her with a hug, but she’s having none of that.

‘Are you really, Keiji?’, his mother asks, lips pursed. ‘I know my son well enough to know he’s not sleeping well’.

‘I try’, he offers, but he knows his excuse falls flat when she sniffs. He’s so irredeemably busy with school work and internship that sleep is practically the last item on his list of priorities and things to do and tasks at hand, but he knows if he breathes a word about the amount of work on his plate, his mother would nag him relentlessly until she’s convinced he’s taking care of himself again

So honed by years of dealing with Bokuto-san, he switches tactics to diversion. ‘So mum, tell me how auntie managed to talk Yuji-kun into going on blind dates?’ His mum brightens and immediately turns her mind to her favourite nephew’s dismal love life.

But his mother insists on him staying over that night, so he finds himself staring at the ceiling of his old bedroom, in a bed that suddenly feels too small for the worries that adulthood is cramming into his head. He’s patient, counting the spaces between his breaths but sleep eludes him and he sits up, determined to sneak in more work at the very least.

He tucks a pencil behind his ear, ready to get cracking on his thesis when he tilts his seat too far on the back two legs of his chair and loses his balance, falling onto the floor with a thump. ‘Damnit’, he curses quietly, hoping the noise doesn’t startle his mother awake, but from his vantage point on the floor, he can see the omamori he inexplicably refused to throw away on New Year’s Day hanging on the bars of his windowsill.

‘What are you doing here’, he mutters, untying the charm and running his thumb along its fraying seams. The charm obviously does not respond - it’s an inanimate object after all, but for some reason, he slips it in his pocket when he returns to the dorm when morning comes.

The frequency of his dreams starts to increase.

He’s back in her body, curled up under a pine tree on a cool autumn day.

‘I can’t believe you convinced me to spend an afternoon running around like a forest nymph when we could be studying to ace your exams’. There is a tinge of disdain in his words because he knows her grades are better than decent, though they’d be better if only she’d spend more time on her books instead of flower fields.

‘Aww, a nymph? Someone’s feeling extra poetic today’, she teases lightly.

‘Don’t try distracting me from the fact that you really should be studying’, he insists, displeased.

‘I do study’ she protests, but he hums disbelievingly, the spectre of Waseda’s devilishly difficult entrance exam looming in his mind.

‘Not enough to get into a decent university at this rate.’

‘I don’t want to go to university, Keiji, I’ve tried telling you this before’, she sighs.

‘You don’t?’

‘Nope’ she responds, popping the word in her mouth. ‘I just want to sell flowers to people someday, is that so bad? It’s simple - they make people happy, and that makes me happy in turn. If we only have a lifetime to spend on this earth, shouldn’t we pursue what truly brings us joy instead of dreams others impose on us?’

‘ I suppose that makes sense’, he says, sounding vaguely convinced.

‘Course it does’, she responds easily, a smile flickering in her voice. ‘I always make sense. Now. Let’s not squabble, it’s my turn to tell you a story today’.

So he listens, enthralled despite himself, as she spins tales of the Kodama, tree spirits dwelling in the ancient forest, how her mother taught her to always offer a prayer to the gods before chopping down a tree - and if the tree bleeds, to back away because it means it has a Kodama living, breathing within it.

‘Are they real?’ he asks her, when she finishes a tale of a Kodama who assumed human form after falling in love with a maiden blessed with cherry blossoms in her cheeks.

‘Of course they are’ she laughs. ‘If you close your eyes and listen carefully, you can hear them sing. ’

He closes his eyes, but the forest remains eerily still. ‘ I don’t hear anything, ’ he says, disbelief colouring his tone.

‘Maybe it’s because they know you don’t really believe in them yet.’

He wakes up with the scent of pine in his nose, the lingering touch of grass against the soles of his feet.

‘Electricity is a fickle beast in this household, so the first thing you need to do when you come home is to light the fire in the irori. Even Toya-chan knows how to do that, and he’s eight!’

He stares balefully at the sunken hearth lined with stone and filled with ash, situated right in the center of the old house. ‘This is a fire hazard’, he tells her stubbornly.

‘Fire is life, you spoilt city boy! It only becomes dangerous if you don’t respect it. Now come on, or you’ll end up freezing to death and I won’t be able to save you. I always keep a lighter in my pocket and in the store room there’s coal and if really necessary, some petrol I flinched from the petrol station – ‘

‘You better make sure the teachers don’t find your lighter and think you’ve been smoking – ‘ he interjects and she continues as if she doesn’t hear him.

‘So you light the fire and hang the kettle from the iron hook, and voila! You can cook porridge or soup if electricity runs out and you can’t rely on the rice cooker or stove. And when the night is too cold to sleep in your room, you can drag your futon out here for warmth. It’s kinda nice, almost like camping. Now, let’s see you try lighting a fire yourself!’

Her fingers are thin and nimble, but they’re unfamiliar implements to him, so he fumbles with arranging the coal and scrap paper around damp wood. He has to resort to using a drip of petrol to coax the damp wood to ignite in flames but he counts it as a triumph anyway as fire dances in the sunken hearth.

He can hear her cheer – ‘Congrats city boy!’ Ignoring the implied insult in her words, he smiles.

He’s back in her skin again when her voice echoes in his mind.

‘Y’know you’re not gonna be able to learn how to put on a bra if you don’t open your eyes when doing it right?’ she says, amusement ripe in her voice. ‘Every girl has tits, Keiji . If it makes you feel better, I’ve seen your dick ’.

‘What?’ he yelps, eyes still stubbornly closed.

‘How else was I supposed to use the urinals? Goodness, being a guy is so convenient when it comes to peeing, you just point and shoot - ’

‘Right, that’s too much information, thanks’, he huffs.

‘Well, you’re gonna make me late for school if you don’t open your eyes’’, she sing songs, and he knows she’s banking on his reverence for punctuality and perfect attendance records to get him to look in the mirror, but he’s not sure it outweighs his mother’s lessons of being a gentleman.

‘Keiji-kun ’, she says again, amused. ‘I do appreciate that you’re trying to protect my modesty, but those rules don’t really apply when we’re in a situation like this, you know? If it makes you feel better, I give you explicit permission to look at my breasts when strictly necessary.’

‘Can you not say it like that’, he grouses before cracking an eye open, somewhat persuaded, and somehow manages to snap the tiny hooks in place. ‘Bras are like torture devices’.

‘Don’t I know it’, she chuckles. ‘Be glad you only have to put up with it every once in a while’.

He snorts, more comfortable once some semblance of her modesty is secured. ‘I’ll count my blessings then’. Twisting at the waist to zip up her skirt, his breath catches at a glimpse of freckles on her back in the mirror. He forgets he’s still standing in front of the mirror as his fingers idly ghost over the constellation, a spray of stardust on bare skin.

‘Keiji ?’ she asks, confused.

‘Sorry!’, he startles. ‘It’s just - I never noticed you had freckles on your back before.’

‘Yes - I’m aware I have them, and?’, she replies archly, and the irony that she’s completely fine with him staring at her breasts but not her back does not elude him, but he holds his tongue.

‘They’re arranged in my favourite constellation’, he tells her honestly and he’s relived to hear her chuckle again.

‘I’ll show you the real thing next time’, she promises, before switching seamlessly to berate him - ‘And you can stop staring at my back now, we’re gonna be late for school! ’

The next day is spent wondering if he’s a creep for dreaming about half naked sixteen year old girls – even if there’s nothing remotely sexual about his dream.

He sees her run through the woods like a fawn discovering spring for the first time, watches her come to a stop at an open clearing framed by trees. There is a shrine in the center of the clearing, cracked and covered in moss, but she approaches it reverently, dropping to her knees.

‘There is old magic in this shrine’, she whispers, brushing leaves and branches away before laying her omamori down at the altar. ‘ Do you remember the wish you made? ’

‘I wished for more time - I got greedy and asked for yesterday to come again ’, he answers, voice hushed.

‘And I wished for the exact opposite. I got impatient and asked tomorrow to arrive, as fast as it can ’, she replies, tilting her face up to the sun.

‘I suppose that’s what happened ’, he says. ‘Our wishes got tangled up, and our bodies and souls got thrown through time and space’.

‘Hm. Do you think we have souls, Keiji? ’ she asks him.

‘Yes ’, he says, sounding perplexed. ‘What else would we be swapping?’

‘What colour d’you think your soul is? ’ It’s a strange question, but he’s used to anticipating the unexpected from her.

‘Blue. It reminds me of the summer sky ’, he replies.

‘Fitting’, she laughs with a cheeky grin on her face. ‘Since the sky is a star’s domain’.

‘What about you’, he asks, so accustomed to ignoring her teasing about Bokuto-san. ‘What colour do you think your soul is?’

‘Yellow, I hope ’, she says dreamily. ‘It’s warmth and life - like flames lighting up wintry nights, or daffodils on the first day of spring’ .

He wonders if it’s a coincidence that the strange dreams hit him in full force right after he brings back the omamori.

But Kenma’s right, he’s become strangely addicted to the narrative his dreams are showing him. It’s like the books he snuck under the covers at night, emerging bleary eyed in the morning because he was intent on seeing the story end. And if he’s being completely honest with himself, it makes him feel like that he - quiet, bookish Akaashi Keiji is the protagonist in the Ghibli movies that Bokuto-san makes him watch, so he doesn’t put up a fight against the dreams that re-invade his sleep.

Taglist:

@1tooru @kageyamakock @animeflower26 @underrated-fruit-tarts-official @bongofrito

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scrawnytreedemon · 3 years

Text

Glory, glory, glory, call the Bells of Hyrule Castle Town, And how sweetly they ring, Under the screams of a populace Sent into a blind fervour, Victory is mine, and it's so Sour it's sweet,

The halls are long and winding, Matroned by suits of armour and Moth-eaten carpets, flattened by the Work of many feet, their rotting threads Worth the endeavours of my people A thousandfold, So I relieve them of their paintings, Strip the stands of their armour to give to My troops, set new candles in these Chandeliers, bejewelled, It's a Thursday when they're lit the first Time in my honour, for all my work, Hyrule Castle is mine, and it's a bitch To keep, always moaning, groaning, For wash, for care, for repair, And care I give, in droves,

It's almost easy to forget there's, by some Technicality, a war going on outside, a war against One, maybe two senseless renegades, It's easy to forget, even after we lift the forged-Twilit barrier, glistening like carved gold, Nothing really happens here, and that, dear Companion, is bliss. Honestly, my boy, have some Cake, our foes are small and a ways off yet, There's no good in rushing, not unless you wish To throw yourself on the blade of his sword, Then be my guest, I'd say, if I were cruel and unyielding, But I love you so, little prodigy, little usurper of mine Nestled b'neath my wing, and I know I did good In choosing you,

But you don't wait, you don't eat cake, All you think is war, and how to win it, and I wonder then if you'll ever learn to enjoy its spoils, But that is your endeavour, and not mine, And a good teacher always lets his students Trip, as long as there's soft ground to fall on, And there is, in abundance, I can rest knowing you'll be fine,

So I tend to my garden, and recline in the Fruit of their beds, when my work pays off And the weather is nice, But I suppose my idea of nice weather differs From yours, and I can't help laughing when You rush to get me out of my wet robes, Yammering on about sickness and disease, Of my poor, poor heart, and how it's Constantly straining under the sheer bulk Of my form, My love, of this, we have not to worry, Do you remember not the pact we made, Swearing that we'd never die? We'll never die, my dear, Not in any way that matters,

I clean the windows, and leaf through the Endless pages of the castle library, It's been centuries, since I could read like This, with such leisure, with no urgency, And it bores me, I'm restless, My hands twitch and fiddle, and I rise Constantly, hoping foolishly in doing so I'd find something new, eventually, I think incorporeality has weakened me, Dear friend, its taste souring every Sweetness of the flesh, And nothing deigns to ease its note,

But I'm insistent, insistent on Living life, daily, wholly, or close, I didn't conquer for conquering's sake, My boy, I conquered to live, to build Anew a life for me and my kind, And though their voices are now mere Hums in the desert wind, they live on Through me, through you, my boy, You know the insignia on your robes Has meaning, don't you?

The people cower and quiver, though Soon enough I hope they'll realise They're to be treated with respect, I shudder to think what horrors I could've Wrought, had I come to such a height In days younger, the burns of Hyrule's Great sins a many still fresh on my Sun-kissed skin,

Oh, boy, dear boy, though you smother it The ardour of youth lives on in you yet! And it is wonderful as it is dangerous, Temper it with my counsel, so that it may Grow into a resolve firm and straight by your Old age, Hah! You don't like the thought of that, do you, Your lithe, nymph-like form with its smooth Skin and feline grace withering? Oh stop it, I know you meant it not a slight against me, A slight not it was taken. You worry so, It ought to be your heart of concern, not mine, Because if there's one thing I know, it's that Fear eats, student steadfast, fear gnaws The threads of ones psyche, Are you sure you don't want tea?

But you're off again before I can come Once more, off to twist the path of the hero With your own hands, and I'm left in the Dark of the tearoom, the rain lashing in Torrents outside, wondering someday if Children, yours or mine, will race down these Palace halls. You're young still, my prodigy, My progeny via this legacy of deceit, Find a nice girl, build a dynasty while you can, I get the feeling my cousin would've endeared you,

It's late into the night, when you return, Sopping wet, not looking even half as Triumphant as you claim to be, Oh, pity, come sit by me, if either of us Were so inclined, I might even suggest You lay your head on my lap,

Hah! You don't like the thought of that, either, I wonder, what things do they teach young Men like you about intimacy, over there? All touch is sacred, my boy, and none of it Is to be soiled by careless caresses, do you Hear me?

But come now, sit by the fire, as ease yourself as Close or as distant as your heart desires, Let me make fellowship with you, friend, We can even pretend to pray, I curry Din's favour, how about you? Ah, none. Bitter yet, I take it? Not to worry, I am, too,

We spend a few days like this, a few weeks, Maybe even a month or two, It's hard to tell, when you're my age, Everything blurs together like smudged ink, Whatever the length, it was too short, As soon as you caught wind of further Moving from that wretched pair, you set off For your palace,

I wish you'd taken the time to say goodbye, I wish I'd made you.

Everything came crumbling down after that, You should've stayed, stayed by my side, There isn't enough time, isn't enough time For you to knit yourself back together, If only these damn brats would slow, then I'd have time! Time, time, time, so little time, Where did it all go? It seemed more than content To linger when all was well, Maybe all was well because it lingered, Perhaps I'm being abandoned, hah, Hold on tight, I beg of you,

All of this, all we made, all we wrought, all We founded, the carpets set down, the armour Given to warriors mighty, the chandeliers Polished and lit anew, the garden I grew, Waiting for a time I could spend at ease with you, All of it's falling apart, Recipes written, never to be cooked, Robes set to be woven for balls never thrown, The piano, the mahogany piano I set in the Room we'd have had them, knowing how much You loved to play, How on one, sunny afternoon I urged you to Sing, despite your mumbles and your Protests of 'really, my Lord, I'm not very good,' How wrong you were, Oh, how wrong you were, How wrong I was, thinking we could bide our Time, and forge memories sweeter a Thousandfold,

The door creaks open with a screech, Didn't I have that oiled? They walk in without a second glance, There's mud on the floor, I just had that washed, I wonder, what did they do to the Carpets?

It's not to him I look, but her, He is but a tool, a ploy, and I Wonder what on earth about him Ever struck you as Breathtaking? As worthy of Your efforts,

She ruins the castle in her wrath, She's crushed with ease, her Power dead and gone, Dead and gone, dead and gone, None of it makes up for even A fraction of the pain of losing you, All that's left are these two whelps, And my resolve to crush them,

It rains in our battle, the ground Slippery and sodden, I've seen More water this autumn than I ever Did in all my years back home, We began this last year in the summer, Didn't we? Or was it the year before That, I can't tell, I can't tell, not when Everything blurs together like smudged Ink on a thickly-margined parchment, His sword clangs sharply against mine, And I wonder if he even had the decency To let you die against it, Let you die a Noble death, But I shan't be owed mine, I shan't, I have the power of the gods at my Behest, my patron Din, Goddess of Might and Forger of Worlds, And what is he, what is he but a Farmhand with old clothes and A fancy sword?

A hero, apparently.

I watch your neck snap, in the Fading light.

We die standing.

—What We Made in Hyrule Castle

#tloz #twilight princess #ganondorf #zant #writing #poem #scrawny writes #posting this anyway becausehdhjfjkhfjf my friend liked it :)#and also a *certain* someone just followed who i think would like this #while isn't intended as ship per se i have no qualms about it being tagged as such #the intimacy is what matters #hghjkfgjhkfdhkj and oh BOY is there boatloads #tp

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wonderlustlucas · 5 years

Text

four - hwang hyunjin

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[2:38 PM] big tiddy jinny🍯🧸🌟🖇: Bruh

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

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

[2:38 PM] YN: mmhmmmm

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

[2:38 PM] YN: sureeeee

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hyunjin, have you brushed your teeth yet?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yeah.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

God, you hate it.

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

Hyunjin is a funny guy.

Or so he thinks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[5:52 PM] big tiddy jinny🍯🧸🌟🖇: And

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

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

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

[5:53 PM] YN: “aloha mamacita”

[5:53 PM] YN: uHmmmMMM

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yikes. He’s going to kill you.

“Nursing,” you blurt.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yeah. We shall.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Kinky.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You think you are dreaming.

You think.

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

“Just past two,” he whispers.

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

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

You think you are dreaming.

You think.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You didn’t kiss m—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes. Wait— what? No!”

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

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

“I’m sorry, baby, go on.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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whenimaunicorn · 4 years

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Uhtred - TLK-tober

I rolled Uhtred, vampire, religious, cute. That last word made this so hard... until I realized that in my region, “being cute” can mean being an ass / making irreverent jokes. So here we have vampire Uhtred being cute by blaspheming at Hild until she can’t take it anymore. 576 words. Warnings for Christian blasphemy and a mood that turns out more sad than anything else. (prompt list here if you want to do one too!)

“I never cared much for Beocca’s lessons when I was boy.” Uhtred’s eyes are dazzling even as the light of the setting sun fades behind the copse of russet trees.

“And it shows,” Hild replies tartly.

The ruddy color of the autumn leaves behind him makes her old friend look even paler as he stands and stares off in the shade of the trees. “But now, there are aspects of Christianity that I find fascinating.”

“Is that so?” Hild tries to restrain the bloom of hope in her chest; surely Uhtred is firmly in the devil’s clutches now, and no amount of religious study could bring him back to the Kingdom of God.

“I think I could learn from this Jesus Christ. I have become like him now.”

Hild glares up at him.

“Did he not also come back from the dead?”

The cheeky grin plastered across her friend’s face brings back a rush of memories, a flutter of shared delight and joyful aggravation that tugs at the corner of her own lip, despite her resolve to keep her guard up from now on. “That was different. Entirely.”

A chill wind rustles the leaves, making Hild conscious of how quickly twilight is changing into full night. She’s noticed the darkness affects him. Almost all that’s left of Uhtred’s humanity fades with the dying of the light.

“Why do you still meet me out here?” Uhtred asks, as if he can read her thoughts.

Hild looks over her shoulder at the abbey, the building reassuringly close. “You still come to greet me when you wake, so I still come to bid you good night.” I miss you, she wants to add, I am still grieving your loss. But when she looks up at the unearthly sheen of starlight that now emanates from his predator’s eyes, the words die on her tongue.

“Perhaps you are more drawn to me now,” he says softly. She shakes her head faintly. “Now that we have more in common.”

Her brows crease. “What do we have in common?”

The cheeky grin is back. “Now that we both enjoy the sacrament of blood.”

“What on earth are you suggesting.”

“You have been drinking the blood of Christ for years, have you not?” He takes a half step forward, looming into her space. “And I would like nothing more than to take that sacrament from you.”

His words are still teasing, his voice is too, but those are not Uhtred’s eyes. The man she loves is dead. Hild takes a deliberate step backwards, out of the trees, into the churchyard where he cannot follow. They had tested this once, early on in these meetings, making a game of finding the exact threshold of holy ground.

She’d known one day she would need it.

The creature that used to be Uhtred sinks to his knees before her, holding his hands like a supplicant. “I need it, Hild. Bless me. Fill me with the love of God as only an Abbess could give it.”

“You always did love blaspheming,” she says, shaking her head like she always does, clinging to the ruse as long as she can. She’s still not ready to give up these moments, for as many evenings as she can still have them. Her feet start to carry her back to the church, and she forces those steps to remain slow and even. “It’s time for evening prayers. I’ll meet you again tomorrow.”

Taglist: @ceridwenofwales @oddsnendsfanfics@laketaj24 @thewildbeauty @geekandbooknerd @therealcalicali @tiyetiye @pokeasleepingsmaug@goldentailedmermaids @sifshoney @titty-teetee @savismith @ariellostatci @perfectus-in-morte @axiseeu12 @kingofshadowalkers @glitta-killa @just-random-obsessions @volvaaslaug

#uhtred of bebbanburg #uhtred x hild #the last kingdom fanfic #tlktober #tlk-tober

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 years

Text

kiss me in the d-a-r-k .epilogue.

november

masterlist

Warnings: dub con sex (oral, intercourse)

This is dark!(dad)Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: The reader is back at school but her wild summer can’t be forgotten.

Note: Um, did I do this? Like did I just write this and is it going to be more than one part? I just...okay, well, this is where life is taking me right now so here ya go! I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply!

...

Everything was different and yet the same. No more English Lit, you were a Journalism major working hard towards your lifelong dream of typing for a living. Of capitalizing on the frustration of a blinking cursor as you tried to formulate a hook. After a summer of working weddings and overzealous parties, you were ready to hunker back down in your bookish university life.

Despite your shift in focus, Kylie was still very much a cornerstone of your campus life. You saw each other once a week, if you were lucky, twice. She messaged you almost daily, still grieving Taylor’s enlistment. You studied together and when you were particularly exasperated with her nagging, you let her drag you to one of her extracurricular get-togethers.

You’d changed too. Still very much the honours student but a little less uptight. And you had a secret. A very big secret. One Kylie could never know.

She had guessed, at least half of it. It didn’t take her much to catch on that you had finally taken the plunge. You’d finally lost your virginity. You weren’t sure if the sway of your hips had changed or your head was held a little higher, but she had guessed on your first day back in September.

She’d beamed and bugged you for details. You were cautiously vague upon your recounting. She could never know that it had been with her own dad. You could only imagine her reaction. Never anything less than impulsive and dramatic, you knew the revelation would ensure the end of your friendship. And as one-sided as your relationship could be, it was preferable to being alone on campus.

As your communications class ended, you packed up along with the rest of the lecture hall. You were near the front as always. You folded up the small desk and shoved your books in your bag. You pulled on your harvest orange jacket as you glanced up to the front. Professor Barnes leaned on his desk as he talked with another student.

You hooked your bag over your shoulder and checked your phone as you descended the stairs to the front. Kylie’s message flashed in your vision and you swore. It had totally slipped your mind. Oh well, she could wait a couple minutes.

You neared the desk in the corner where the professor chattered with others and packed up his papers. You waited patiently as you looked up at the blank projection screen. Finally, you stepped up as the conversation ended and smiled up at him. His dark hair was limned with strands of silver, his blue eyes shone as he glanced over at you. You could have swooned, even if he was twenty years older than you. Hell, that hadn’t stopped you before.

“I wanted to sign up for that workshop,” You declared without greeting. Your nerves forced the words from your brain. “I have the form.”

You let your bag fall to your elbow and reached in to fish out the folded paper. You held it out to him and your cheek twitched as your smile threatened to fall.

“Great,” He took the form and placed it on top of the pile of essays. “I’m glad you’ve decided to do it. It will be a great experience, and seeing as you’re making up for lost time, it’ll help with that too.”

“Thanks,” You beamed. “I...I’m excited.”

He smiled and closed the folder over the papers and tucked them away. He rounded the desk as the last of the students filtered out the door. “Me, too. Your work is exceptional and I can only see it getting better.” He walked slowly towards the door beside you as he juggled his bag and pulled on his dark jacket. “Keep it up and you’ll be teaching this class in a few years. Or better, I might just see your name in the New Yorker.”

You giggled but killed it before it could turn pathetic. You preceded him into the hall as he waited for you to go ahead and he closed the door behind him. “Thanks, Professor.”

“I mean it,” He replied. “I made sure they approved your transfer. You had no place wasting away in Lit.” You smiled wider and he peeked over his shoulder and then at his watch. “Well, I’ll see you at the workshop. Monday morning.” He said. “Alas, I have a Friday night of marking to keep me company and no desire to leave it ‘til Saturday.”

“Okay, thank you, Professor,” You retreated as he turned halfway to head in the opposite direction. “Really. I’ll see you Monday.”

“Have a good night,” He winked and turned to stride down the hall as you mumbled your response.

You watched him go and grasped the handle of your bag tightly. Shit. Okay. Stop. He was your professor. You shouldn’t make your questionable decisions a habit. Had you not learned last summer?

When you got to Kylie’s, you had to buzz twice. The dormitory door stuck and you barely managed to wrench it open before the lock clicked back in place. Your hands and face felt raw from the autumn wind as you climbed the stairs and the stuffy building smothered you. You knocked on her door; three other girls shared her flat and you could hear voices from within.

Marlo opened the door as she giggled to the girls in the kitchen to the right of her. She waved you in. You were there enough that they knew you by now. Shae stood in the doorway to the kitchen and they looked at each other knowingly.

“Hey,” Marlo finally stifled her scandalous trill. “Kylie’s just in her room…” She looked once more to Shae, “She’s got a visitor.”

Shae snickered. “Oh yes, her dad’s been lecturing her for twenty minutes... though I’d listen to any lecture he had for me.”

“Oh, yes, daddy,” Marlo returned. “Makes all these fratboys look like children.”

“Her dad?” Your face and heart fell. You peered down the hall to her door. It was open and you heard his voice. It was definitely him. “Maybe I should come back.”

“Nah, it’s fine, she’s tryna get him out ASAP as it is. She has a date with that Tristan guy.” Marlo mused.

“I thought his name was Troy.” Shae intoned.

“Whatever,” Marlo shrugged and nodded down the hall. “Go on and save her.”

The hallways seemed to get longer as you looked down the blue and grey carpet. The girls retreated back to the kitchen, the clink of glass jolted you. You slowly stepped forward and as you got closer you heard both Kylie and Steve. Steady, pleasant. They must’ve worked through whatever issue Steve had tucked in his back pocket.

You gulped and stepped up to the half-open door and knocked on it. They looked over in unison. For a moment the resemblance was stunning but faded away in an instant. Steve’s lips formed a crooked smirk and Kylie greeted you with her usual snarky brow.

“About time,” She crossed her arms.

“Class.” You returned sharply and reached into your bag. “Mind the state of it but here you go.”

You handed her your worn copy of Wuthering Heights and she took it with indifference and tossed it on her bed.

“Hey,” Steve greeted, a hand on his hip as he flagrantly looked you up and down. “How’s it going?”

“Fine. Studying, you know.” You answered shortly as Kylie swiped up her phone.

“Dad, oh my god, are you staying here all night?” She whined as she looked up.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get out of your hair, just figured I’d check in while I was in the area,” Steve shook his head. “She thinks I don’t know but she’s got a boy coming over.”

“Dad!” Kylie fumed and lowered her phone.

“I’ll just be on my way too.” You assured her. “Midterms coming up.”

“Need a ride?” Steve offered swiftly. You glanced at Kylie but she didn’t seem to notice her father’s deft reply.

“I have a bus pass,” You said. “I’ll be fine.”

“Ah, let me drive you,” He insisted. “I miss the city.”

“Fine,” You accepted and Kylie was already back in her dms.

“Okay, you guys, be safe,” She sat on the edge of her bed, “Love ya, dad.”

You lifted your brows and silently cursed her oblivion. You dared to look at Steve and he smiled triumphantly. In Kylie’s mind you’d already left so you turned and swept out the door. Easier to argue with him outside. He followed and you caught a glimpse of Marlo and Shae peeking out the kitchen as you opened the door. They gushed at the sight of Steve as he disappeared into the hall with you.

“I really don’t need a ride.” You sighed. “I appreciate the offer though.”

“Oh, come on, why are you being so cold? I know it’s been a while but...well...I missed you.” He descended the stairs behind you. “Didn’t expect to see you but I’m visiting and I can’t help but check up on Kylie.”

“I…” You turned down the next flight and huffed. “I just wanna forget about whatever it was that happened in the summer, okay? Kylie’s my friend and if she found out--”

“If she was gonna find out, she would’ve by now,” He caught your arm as you made to turn again and he pushed you up against the wall. “She won’t know. It’s fine. It was all very...natural. Didn’t it feel right?”

You looked away. Your face burned as you thought about that last night. The things you’d done with him. The sheer pleasure of his touch. The epiphany of the savage physicality. Those scene’s you had replayed in your head, and not just with him, though it had only been a reality with him.

“Steve--”

“Is there a boy? Hmm? It doesn’t bother me. You should explore your sexuality.” He cradled your face and ran his thumb over your chin. “Use what I taught you.”

“Stop.” You caught his hand. “We can’t--”

He smirked again. “So there hasn’t been anyone else.”

“No,” You answered the statement. He knew. He always read you so well. “Okay.”

He considered you for a moment. “But you’ve thought about it? About others?”

You lowered your head in defeat. He didn’t need your confirmation; he knew that too.

“So...you wanna come see my suite? It’s a nice hotel...balcony, hot tub, great view...better with you.” His breath was hot as he leaned in and you finally looked up at him.

“Goddamn it.” You cursed him just before he pressed his lips to yours.

The guilt wasn't enough to change your mind once your surrender was given. Why should you feel bad anyway? Kylie always ditched you for guys and she'd never know. And so it couldn't hurt her.

Steve's hand kept you distracted from your second thoughts. He gripped your thigh as he drove as he steered with one hand. You were the same nervous girl, this time barely more than a virgin. One night hadn't been enough to dissolve your natural timidity. One night could never be enough.

You stared at his fingers and your heart stuttered. You thought of all the ways he had touched you; the ways he had yet to touch you. Shit, what were you doing? Had you not promised yourself it was a one time thing? Was Kylie not your friend? Steve not her father?

The world blurred with your doubts and soon you followed Steve through the front doors of upscale hotel. Surely the man in his pressed suit didn't belong with the bookish student. Someone was bound to notice you. But this was New York and people didn't care about others or their scandals; not without a touch of fame.

"Wait, why are you in the city anyway?" You asked as the elevator doors shut.

"I got a friend down here. I had some business down this way and he asked me to hang around for a few days so we could catch up." He slipped his arm around you. "And of course I thought of you. The chance we might run into each other again."

"Oh," You said dumbly. You stepped off the elevator and he led you to a door at the end of the hall. "I...I don't know if I can do this."

"Fair enough but tell me something." He stopped and drew his arm away from your shoulders. "Did I hurt you last time? Did you not enjoy it? What is so wrong about us?"

You turned to him and searched his face. You shrugged, speechless.

"It's just sex. Whatever the circumstances, we're not doing anything wrong. We're two adults, we're attracted to each other. That's all it needs to be." He took out his room key and flicked the card with his finger. "So, you coming in?"

You looked at the door and swallowed. If you said no, you'd have to find your way home from there. You doubted he intended to drive you anywhere if you refused. Regardless, you couldn't deny the longing deep inside. These doubts were a poor mask for your real desires.

He unlocked his door and again waited for you to enter first. His suite was bigger than the boxy apartment you’d leased off-campus. He closed the door behind him as he followed you inside. You kept your distance and crossed to the large windows that overlooked the blinking and blaring city. You stared down at the distant streets as he moved around behind you.

“You gonna stay a while?” He teased and you turned to look at him as he removed his jacket and then his finely tailored blazer. You slowly unbuttoned your peacoat as he knelt to open the minifridge. “You wanna drink? Maybe it’ll help you relax.”

“I am relaxed,” The squeak in your voice was wholly unconvincing. He smiled and pulled out a small bottle of wine.

“Sure,” He crossed to the small kitchenette and pulled out two wineglasses. He emptied the bottle into both. “So, you got into journalism after all?”

He took both glasses and neared you. He handed you one as he sipped from the other.

“Yeah. It’s...better,” You smelled the dry wine before you tasted it. “Not so repetitive.”

“Mmm,” He sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed the empty space beside him. You sat tentatively and nursed your wine. “That’s good.”

His hand crawled over to your thigh and he drained the last of his wine. You stared at yours as he squeezed and you downed it as quickly as you could to still the nerves whirring in your stomach. You almost choked as you did and he removed his hand to take your empty glass. He stood and placed them on the small table on the other end of the room.

“So...anything in particular you wanted to try?” He smirked as he turned back to you.

You shook your head shyly as the wine gathered warmly in your cheeks. He chuckled as he resumed his place next to you. He cradled your face as he turned to you and leaned in.

“You’re so sweet.” He kissed you and you let him. He pulled away for a moment and rubbed the tip of his nose against yours. “I haven’t stopped thinking of you. I can’t stop…”

“Steve,” You warned and he pecked your lips again.

“I’m not being sentimental,” He breathed, “I think about you when I’m alone. Horny. I imagine you’re there with me...do you think of me?”

You lowered your lashes tellingly. He chuckled and kissed you again. His tongue pushed past your lips as he devoured you and his hand explored the curves of breast and stomach. You forgot about your reluctance. Forgot about the guilt. About Kylie and what she would think. He was right, she’d never know.

He finally pulled away, his blue eyes dilated and hungry. “I want you naked.” He rasped. “Then I want you to undress me.” His hand hovered just along your waist. “Can you do that, sweetie?”

You pulled your wool sweater over your head as you stood. The wine swirled your vision. A single glass and you were tipsy already. You should’ve eaten before class. You turned to him as you untangled yourself from the wool and revealed the slouchy tee hidden beneath. He smiled up at you and took the sweater. He rubbed it between his thumbs before tossing it away.

You knelt awkwardly as you untied your boots and set them aside. How very unsexy it was as you balled your socks up together. He kicked off his shoes too and you focused on your task. You tore your tee off as you turned back to him and his eyes never left you; they clung to your hands as you worked at the layers. Admired the plain grey bra that cupped your tits despite its fraying straps.

You pulled down your jeans and he hummed in delight. The front of his pants twitched and he leaned back on his hands as he watched. As you stood, your tits threatened to spill out. You unhooked your bra and dropped it behind you and tucked your thumbs under your panties, drawing forth the last of your courage.

“Sweetie, I just don’t know how you don’t have the boys lined up,” He purred. “Look at you.”

You couldn’t help your smile. You rolled your panties down and kicked them away. As you stood up straight, he rose and stepped closer. His fingers grazed the bare skin along your hip.

“My turn,” He intoned.

You reached up, almost without thinking, and your fingers clumsily worked at his buttons. You pulled the hem free of his pants and when it was entirely loose you pushed it down his broad shoulders. He let you as he watched silently. You looked up at him and realized you were chewing your lip anxiously. You stopped yourself and he admired your lips.

“Keep going,” He urged.

You freed him of the expensive shirt and let it crumple on the floor. You unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his fly swiftly, yoyouru fingers working more deftly as the tickle stirred between your legs. You pushed his pants down his thick legs. Twice your age and in better shape, you marvelled.

He stepped out of the trousers and your hand absently grazed his bulge. You gasped and he shivered at your touch. You peeked up at him as you grasped the elastic of his briefs. He grinned and nodded. You bit your lip again and he reached up to drag his thumb along it. You tugged his briefs down and slowly lowered your eyes as you uncovered his cock.

You backed away and took in the whole of him. What were you doing?

He sat down on the bed again and his cock bobbed against his stomach. He beckoned you closer with two fingers and he fell onto his back. “Get up here,” He tapped his chest.

“What?” You crawled up beside him.

“Here,” He repeated. “I’ve been dying to taste you again.”

You blanched. You were unsure. Last time, he had been in control. You’d been on your back and his face was buried between your thighs. You just had to lay there; let your instincts take over. You shakily climbed up the mattress and looked over at him as he licked his lips.

He helped you as you carefully positioned yourself over him, your knees on either side of his head. It was awkward for you. His eyes clung to your pussy and he pulled you down impatiently. His tongue delved along your folds and you squeaked in surprise.

He flicked along your clit and back down as he drank you in. You relaxed as he lapped at you and his hands snaked around your thighs. He kneaded them and suckled on your clit as the electricity gathered in a pinpoint. You moaned and arched your back as you longed for more. He tended to you more fervently and groaned.

You spread your fingers over his golden hair and leaned into him. The currents travelled along your back and thighs as your breath hitched. You were soon grinding against his face as you felt your orgasm mounting. You threw your head back and let out a long moan as you came, your entire being shook at the sudden waves of ecstasy. His fingertips pressed into your thighs and he hummed in delight below you.

Your hips twitched one last time and you glanced down at him. You lifted yourself on your knees as you blinked at him numbly. “Are you okay?” You gasped.

“I’m in heaven,” He assured you as he drew circles along the back of your thighs. He slipped a hand down and you looked back as he gripped his cock. “Move back. I can’t wait any longer.”

Your lips parted; breathless, stunned. Your body worked without your consent. Like it wasn’t yours at all but his to play with as he would. You lowered yourself over him and his cock brushed against your wet pussy. He shuddered and wiped his glistening lips as he watched you intently.

You reached beneath you and stroked him. His eyes widened in surprised delight. You angled him towards your entrance. Your muscles tensed hungrily as his tip pressed against you. You sank onto him slowly and held your breath. It wasn’t so painful as the first time. Of course, after your first time, it had been much easier. He had fucked you until it was too easy.

As he bottomed out you let out an airy moan and he echoed you. He reached up to play with your tits, his thumbs circled your nipples as his eyes roved the rest of your body. “Fuck, your still so fucking tight.” He pushed your tits together and moaned again.

You rocked your hips carefully. You relished the feel of him. The fullness. You hadn’t realized how much you’d wanted to feel it again. His hands fell to your hips and he guided you. Steady, slow. He watched your pussy move along his cock and his eyes darkened with unadulturated lust. You pressed your palms to his chest and sped up just a little. Your clit rubbed deliciously against him.

“Oh, sweetie,” He purred. “I fucking missed this.”

He took your hands and pulled them over his shoulders as he sat up. You hooked your arms around him as he grabbed your ass and led your motion. You bounced in his lap, the friction between your sweaty bodies seared your flesh. You panted as he guided you faster and faster. He plunged into you over and over and your walls clung to him.

A pathetic stream of moans and groans escaped you as you felt the bloom again. You hugged him tighter and he bowed his head to nibble at your tits. You quaked as you came harder than before. He pulled his head away and grabbed the back of your head as he pressed his lips to yours again.

He parted and whispered against your skin. “I’m gonna cum, sweetie. Can I cum on your tits?”

You nodded and he tapped your ass. You climbed off of him and knelt before him as his breaths were interspersed with heady groans.

“Help me, sweetie.”

He took your hand and wrapped your fingers around his cock. He led your first stroke than let go. He watched as your hand glided up and down his length and he clutched the blankets beneath him as he grunted. His cum shot across your chest and neck and his body trembled in his rapture.

You pulled away your hand, slick with his cum, and sat back on your heels as you hung your head. The afterglow didn’t last long as you stared at your glistening palm. You were so weak; so selfish.

“Sweetie,” Steve reached down and lifted your chin with two fingers. “Don’t do that to yourself. You’re beautiful, you deserve to be admired.” He grabbed your elbow and helped you stand. “Come here.”

He pulled you close and fell back with you across the bed. He embraced you as his cum cooled between your chests. Your heart beat furiously against him and you closed your eyes. He sighed and ran his fingers along your hair.

“I’m here ‘til next Friday,” He said. “Lots of time to get caught up.”

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ariddletobesolved · 4 years

Text

Days We Spend Under the Sun (Chapter One)

Written for @helsa-summer-event 💛

Fandom: Frozen

Genre: Romance, Family, Fluff, Whump

Rating: T

Summary: Summer is not her favourite season, but a certain Admiral from the neighbouring kingdom is going to change that.

I was rushing with the edit, so forgive me if it's not decent. Also, external links are in the notes. I hope this one is not cheesy, though. Enjoy!

Prompt 1: "Don't you dare!"

—

Chapter One

"Are you sure you don't want me to arrange a carriage for you two?"

After breakfast, Elsa found herself in her sister's embrace, as they stood at the front door. Dressed in her blue travel outfit, the blonde looked regal as ever, and a certain Admiral standing nearby couldn't take his eyes off her.

"It is alright, Anna." Elsa pulled away from the embrace and flashed her sister a smile. "Besides, we will make a stop by the fjord so I can summon the Nokk."

Anna nodded, "okay." She let out a sigh.

Having to say goodbye to her sister had always been one of the hardest things to do. After thirteen years of separation, then three years of reunion, before being separated from each other again, Anna felt like it wasn't fair. Sure, they had duties to fulfill, but sometimes Anna reminisced about all those good times they had spent together, and couldn't help but miss Elsa's laughter that used to echo in the castle halls. And little did she know that Elsa, too, was feeling the same way.

When the queen took a step back, it was a cue for Hans to approach the sisters. Nodding at a stable boy, who was holding his stallion, Sitron's reins, he signalled him to come closer. The horse was ready, with two small bags attached on each side. But before he helped Elsa climb up, Hans turned to Anna.

He bowed politely. "Queen Anna."

"Take care of my sister, will you, Hans?" She said. Her tone was stern with a hint of friendliness.

"Always." He smiled. Bowing one last time, Hans then helped Elsa, before mounting on Sitron's back after her.

"I'll see you in a week or so, Anna." Elsa smiled, resting her hand on an arm that wrapped around her waist, while the other was clutching the rein tight.

Anna smiled, "See you, Elsa."

Just when Elsa was about to move her lower legs as a signal for Sitron to walk, she heard a familiar voice calling her name.

"Elsa, wait!"

The blonde turned to the direction where the voice came and saw Olaf running—or attempting to run, followed by Sven and Kristoff. She smiled, finding the sight rather chaotic yet amusing.

"Olaf!"

The snowman stumbled and stopped before the stallion. He tried to catch his breath with one twig hand rested on Sven's side.

"What is it?" Hans gently asked.

Kristoff, who was now standing beside his wife, sheepishly replied, "Sorry, but Olaf has something to say."

"I thought I should say goodbye once more before you go." Olaf murmured, looking up to the smiling couple with puppy eyes. "When will you be back?"

Elsa reached a hand towards the snowman. "Come here, Olaf." Taking his hand in hers, she gave it a little squeeze. "I will only be gone for a week. It's not that long, is it? We've talked about this before."

The past few months, with the war going on, Olaf had grown a closer attachment to Elsa, especially after she was badly injured during one of the battles. He became so mature and caring, protective even, and he surely didn't like the idea of being apart with her now that everything was going back to normal. One time he asked Elsa and Anna why the sisters would go back to living miles apart after the war, and even though he found it reasonable that the sister had their own duties, he still wasn't down with the idea.

"I know." Olaf sighed, before nodding. "Alright then, I'll see you soon, Elsa." He let go of her hand.

"Bye, Olaf! Take care of Anna, Kristoff, and Jensen for us, will you?" Elsa beamed.

At the mention of the little prince, Olaf, too, was beaming. Elsa knew what would keep the snowman interested: her nephew. Ever since Prince Jensen Bjorgman of Arendelle was born, the snowman loved to entertain him with interest. Often Hans said things like perhaps Olaf just happens to like the idea of having a cousin, and Elsa would smack him playfully.

"Okay."

"Take care, Olaf." Hans added.

Olaf nodded, once again. Things might be a little tense between the two, mostly because of what happened in the past, but eventually the snowman had grown to be more accepting, and it got better.

"You too, Hans."

After sending a last glance at the queen and her consort, the couple began to trot away. They were heading out, past the front gates and the bridge. They would need to get through Arendelle Plaza and the harbour to get to the less crowded area in the fjord, their next stop.

"Olaf is something." Hans murmured to her ear. He held her close from behind with one hand while his other hand was holding the rein with her. "You know, last night he went to my room."

Elsa raised a brow. "Really?" She fought the urge to lean back as she found comfort in his presence, but it would make her lose her balance. "What did he do? Did he bother you?"

"He didn't. He waited for me, actually." He chuckled, sending shivers down Elsa's spine. "Olaf told me to look out for you, as I quote, because Elsa tends to be reckless."

The blonde chuckled. "He is just being sweet."

"Hmm, he is probably right." Hans hummed, as if he was thinking of something. "Also, he is probably still not over what happened last autumn."

Her hand unconsciously flew to her right side. There, underneath the light clothing, was a long scar from when she was stabbed during a naval battle. Elsa was too busy controlling the wind; she didn't hear an enemy approaching her. Perhaps that, and the fact that she froze to death in the depth of Ahtohallan once that would count as her recklessness. She shook the image from her head for it was too gruesome to think about, even though those were also counted as an act of sacrifice.

"Probably." She sighed. "But let's not think about it."

A few moments later, they finally left the capital and began to enter the forest. Elsa took a hold of the rein, but when she was about to pull to make the horse turn, Hans quickly took over.

"We can stop over there, Hans." She pointed at a lower ground which directly led them to an open sea. "And then I can summon the Nokk."

Sitron began to slow down at his master's tug, but instead of turning towards the open sea, he turned towards the opposite direction. Elsa's eyes widened, as they rode away from the sea.

"Where are we going?"

Hans gave her a reassuring squeeze. "There's a change of plan, but don't worry, Kaere." He pecked her cheek softy. "I promised Anna and Olaf that I'm going to look after you."

"What is that supposed to mean?" She murmured. Turning to steal a glance at him, she caught a hint of mischief in his emerald eyes. Oh no. "Oh, don't you dare!"

Instead of replying, Hans chuckled, as they broke into a full gallop. She tightened her grip, not wanting to fall over. So much for trying to look after her. By the look of it, he was putting the both of them in danger. What makes him think that not letting her ride the Nokk is a good idea?

"Hans!"

"Relax, Elsa. Your water horse needs a rest too." He said. "Besides, Sitron is strong enough to carry the both of us. We will be fine. Trust me."

A wild idea of trying to escape from his hold and conjured a pile of snow for her to land flashed on her mind. But where would that take you, Elsa? Her conscience asked her. Right, the ground, and gods know if she would land safely. Knowing that she couldn't really do anything that wasn't risky or more dangerous and reckless, she decided to let it slide. Besides, she knew that Hans would keep her safe.

It was strange, when she thought about it. She trusted her own safety in the hand of a man who once tried to kill her. But this man is a changed man, and he has proven that he is capable of character growth more than once. Elsa smiled. They had been through a lot to get there, and she wouldn't change a thing. Giving him a second chance was one of the best decisions she had ever made.

"Fine, I trust you." She let out. "And for the love of God, stop calling the Nokk 'water horse'! We don't want that to happen again, do we?"

For a while, Hans grimaced. A certain memory involving salt water flashed on his mind. Gulping slightly, he let out, "Right."

Smiling to herself, Elsa sighed in contentment. Something told her it would be a memorable trip. Perhaps, in the end, she would end up liking summer more than she wanted to admit, and all thanks to the Admiral currently holding her close.

#helsa #helsa summer event #days we spend under the sun #helsa post frozen 2 au #iceburns #elsa x hans #hans x elsa #helsasummerevent #helsasummerevent2020 #mary's writing #helsa fanfiction

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writemarvelousthings · 5 years

Text

Goodbye For Us

PAIRING- Steve Rogers x Reader (slight implied Bucky Barnes x Reader at the end)

WORD COUNT- 3.7K

WARNINGS- Angst!! Separation, being deserted. Swearing, mentions of self-destructive behaviour. Grief and rejection.

Summary: Steve decides to return to Peggy, leaving you broken and unsure how to live without the man you have loved with all of your soul. But will his decision be the making of you?

A/N: Ya girls is back with some music inspiration, this is inspired by Selena Gomez’s new Song Lose you to Love me. As soon as I heard it this plot came barreling into my head and I had to write it! Thank you to @abovethesmokestacks for being me Beta on this one! I’m sorry for what you’re about to read, it hurt me too.

Gif not mine

Your world was burning, crumbling into molten ash scattering through the wind turning into smoke as the tips of your fingers grasped to keep it slipping away from you.

“Please don’t do this.” your voice was trembling, sore and unused as the man sat before you physically winced.

“I... I have too.”

You spat his words back at him, with all the venom you could muster. Another set of blue eyes shifted to look at you, concern flashing across them before settling on his long-time friend making the hardest decision.

“You don’t know what it was like to not have… to try and live after the snap.” Steve’s shoulders sagged, you noticed for the first time how his skin wrinkled around his eyes. The lighter shade of blonde scattered against his golden tresses, sparkling silver in the light. He looks tired.

“You promised me.” you sounded desperate now and you were, a little girl chasing smoke on the wind travelling further and further away from you.

~~~

The sun was setting low in the sky, soft cool sheets caressed your body as the warmth from Steve encompassed you. Steeping into the pores of your skin, moulding against your bones. Everything in your body screamed for him, burned for him. Your heart thumped in a steady rhythm tattooing his name against your sternum

Steve, Steve, Steve, Steve, Steve

“Will you make me a promise?” you mused, your voice carrying across the soft crooning of your Spotify playlist you personally made for Steve. A large hand roamed against your hip bone, a deep hum answered you. Rolling to face him, your golden lover bathed in the afternoon glow.

“Never leave me.” A small crooked smile spread as slow as molasses, that warmth inside you spread deeper inside you. Attaching itself to your very attoms, curling around the nucleus itself and settling there. Steve’s large hand found yours, bringing the tips of your fingers to his lips. Pressing them against the smooth velvet, against the place that worshipped every inch of you they whispered the words against your skin. Branding you anew.

“Never.”

In that moment, you’d never loved anyone the way you love Steve Rogers

~~~

“Sweetheart..” Steve has the decency to look pained at least.

“No, you don’t get to call me that anymore.” You shake your head, finally seeing what you had been too blind to see all these years. What you had looked through rose-tinted lenses at. Natasha had warned you, Natasha. Your heart lurched at the thought of her, how you pushed aside her concern for you. Her sisterly love for you. It all made sense.

“Natasha knew, she knew all these years that you didn’t let go of her... Not really. Not ever.” You bitterly wiped the tears from your eyes, the biting sting only adding to your anguish.

“She always warned me... Not to play with fire.” Steve whispered, his admission carving a piece of your soul from you.

“But... Peggy. She’s dead Steve.” Bucky’s voice cut through the icy tension mounting, cracking the room with sudden electricity as Steve surged to his feet.

“But she’s NOT! I can go back, I can be with her and finally have the life I’ve always..” the words caught in his throat, blue eyes widening. Even Bucky whipped his head up metal arm whirring. You caught the sob in your throat before you swallowed it down.

“The life you’ve always wanted, right Steve? A home, someone to love you. Kids? You have that Steve, you have a family that loves you.. A home, why can’t I be the person to give you all that?” You look up at him, hands flat palms up on your knees. Begging to the man who you had loved for the better part of seven years completely looked down on you, the look in his eyes scaring you. Pity, he felt your pain but you knew, in those atoms that had been encompassed by him. His mind was made up.

“I’ve got a chance with Peggy, my Peggy. I have to take it.” You remained silent, his words lancing your heart with each syllable. You’re not sure how you managed to stand, much less find your way to the door looking back towards Steve. Unshed tears brimming in his eyes before one blink and they were gone.

“I hope it’s everything you want Captain.”

Your name falls flat from his lips, but like five years ago. You find yourself carried on the wind and away from Steve Rogers for the last time.

~~~

You don’t go with him to the mini transmat platform, no matter how much Sam begs you. Bucky tries to convince you. Bruce even threatens to tear your door down. But he doesn’t come to you, doesn’t try to patch up any resemblance of what you once had, what you once shared. Bucky comes back to your room when he’s gone, sits with his back against the door as you slide down the other side listening silently.

“He did what he said he’d do, put the stones back… didn’t... Well, you know.” Bucky clears his throat, you press the heels of your palms into your eyes. Your body is shaking with grief that he’s gone, back into the arms of the ghost in Steve’s eyes when he looked at you.

“Then I turned around and he was there.” your head flew up, inches from cracking the back of your skull against the door. He came back? A flash of hot white hope burns through you.

“The punk remembered when he left and came back.. he’s.. he’s lived his life. Seemed happy with his decision... I’m sorry.” you don’t remember when Bucky leaves your door, you don’t remember the day turning to night then back to day again. You don’t remember Wanda quietly leaving you a tray of breakfast, placing a hand against your door signing softly. All you remember is the void of emotions, except one. Because in that moment.

You’ve never hated anyone more than you hate Steve Rogers.

~~~

You throw yourself into missions, taking the ones that send you to the far reaches of the world. To the cold frigid landscape of Siberia, the humid thick air of Bangkok. Smog filled China and crystal blue waters of Malta, you kill. You drink, you fuck. Pretty brown eyed girls that taste like strawberries and cream, green-eyed boys with eager hands that fall into your trap. None of them blonde, never with blue eyes. Sam is concerned, Wanda is worried but Bucky looks at you with a sympathetic knowledge that makes your stomach lurch. Your hands itch to take the next solo mission, but Sam puts his foot down.

“You have to go with a partner.”

“Oh fuck off, Wilson, I work better alone!” you scoff, hands raking through your cropped hair. Half of it shaved to the skin. Sam’s deep eyes scan you, analysing your appearance. You had just come off seventy-two hours holed up in Vancouver. The mission took you twelve, it took the next sixty to lose yourself in bars that specialised in sweet overpriced cocktails with a menagerie of students stumbling through its doors and eventually into your bed.

“When was the last time you ate a decent meal? Slept for more than four hours, took a god damn bath?”

“Don’t…” you fisted your hand, anger and pain rolling off you in waves it make Wanda turn, arms wrapped around her middle physically recoiling from you.

“You used to love baths, you were always using all that soap and bubble shit with..”

“Don’t you fucking say his name Sam... Don’t, please.” your voice was hard with bite and venom which washed away with the alarming wave of tears brimming in your eyes.

“He was the one who loved them.” Wanda’s voice rang through the room throwing you into a memory you’d rather forget.

~~~

“God can we just stay here forever?” Steve groaned, head resting against the curve of the bath. You giggle, chin resting on his sternum as you gaze up at him.

“We’d get all wrinkly.” you titter, pressing your lips to his golden skin. The lavender bath salts soaked into his skin, your cheek vibrated from the deep chuckle in the bowls of his chest.

“But I’m so relaxed sweetheart.” Steve groaned scooting lower into the water, pulling at your hips bringing you closer to him.

“And what if the world needs us?” your nose nudges against his for a moment, you’re so close your not sure where Steve starts and you end.

“Well, then at least we can take another bath to celebrate saving the world again.”

“That sounds like a good plan Captain.”

“Mmm, doesn’t it just.” and his lips slipped over yours, one hand cradling the back of your head as you bleed into him.

~~~

Sam looks between you and Wanda, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I’m taking you off the roster.”

You balk at Sam, scrambling to plead your case. You needed those missions.

“No, you need time. This person in front of me. I don’t know who the hell she is. She’s certainly not who Tony and Natasha fought to save and bring back.” at the mention of your mentors you flinch, recoil to a dark part of yourself that resents the person you have become.

“Listen” Sam walks towards you, his voice softer. “I know things have been tough, but you’ve gotta shake him off. You’ve gotta find yourself, the real you. The person we all know is in there somewhere desperate to get out but you won’t let her and I think you know what you have to do to let her free.”

~~~

Your hands shake, swallowing thickly around your tongue as the gravel crunches under your boots. The autumn chill had fully set in as it whips the leaves off the trees, the bright vibrant red causing your heart to ache for a different reason. You watch as one leaf flitters along with the wind, flipping and floating to land on the black granite stone before you.

“Hi, Tasha.” you huff at how weak your voice sounds, how lost you feel not having the one person you could turn too.

“Bet you’re looking down right now wanting to kick my ass.” your hold on the sunflowers tightens as if grasping on the stems gives you something to anchor yourself on as to not fall apart completely.

“And maybe Steve’s, but he’s an old man now and that’s frowned upon.. Not that you’d care.” you let out a hollow chuckle that contorts your face. And then you’re heaving, body shattering with sobs that dig your knees into the ground in front of the empty grave. A reminder that not everyone made it back home.

“I’m lost Nat, I’m so lost without him. I don’t know what to do, or who to trust again.. I’m nothing without him.” You crawl closer to the gravestone, the white block letters mocking you.

Gone, but always with us.

“But that’s not true is it, you’re gone. Tony’s gone. Stev...He..He left.” your lip wobbled dangerously as hot tear’s burned your eyes, even uttering his name felt heavy on your tongue. It stabs at what is left at your soul.

“You always said to be careful but I was so blinded by my own stupidity and love that I.. I..” your chest burned, the lack of air entering your lungs make your body ache. Muscles pulled tight and tense around your bones causing your skin to prickle harshly. Then you felt a weight on your back that was unyielding and firm as your ears rang it was then you realised the weight was the result of smooth black and gold vibranium rubbing against your spin.

“Breathe (Y/N), c’mon breath for me darlin. It’s okay.. It’s gonna be okay.” you’re not sure if it was the soothing words or the cool touch of Bucky’s vibranium hand touching you with such a firm yet gentle pressure that makes you fall back into him.

You had been held before, by your mother when you fell off your bike for the first time. By Tony when he found you half-buried in rubble after a rather dicey mission. By Natasha on a rather drunken girls night as you stumbled home shoes in hand giggling into her red locks. By Steve, oh were you held by Steve. But this, this was different. Never had you felt so protected, so safe. When Steve held you, your whole body was set ablaze. But with Bucky, your whole body became butter soft. Sliding up against him as he mumbled into the crown of your head.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you darlin. It’s all going to be okay. I’m here now.” clinging to the soft grey of his jumper you cried and cried. Until the leaves stopped falling around you.

~~~

You sure you want to do this?” Sam looked over your head at Bucky, he had been asking you that question since the moment you entered the kitchen. And then in the elevator to the car park, then in the car driving into the little suburban row of houses. And again when you parked in front of the little yellow house.

“Jesus Sam, can you give it a rest? Your starting to annoy me!”

“I’m just making sure!”

“She said she’s sure, it’s her decision, not yours.”

“Is that why you brought that knife in your shoe Barnes, what you gonna jump a retired old man that’s real..”

“Oh bite me Wil..”

“Will you two just…”

“It’s nice to see not everything has changed” the three of you freeze, the third voice makes you turn to the now open door. The familiar cerulean eyes you had stared into countless times flashed at you. It makes the back of your neck crawl under his gaze, assessing the changes in you since that day he decided to tear apart your world.

“Would you like to come inside?” The question was broadly asked but you all knew who it was really for.

“Nah, me and Buck are gonna take a walk around the neighbourhood. Gotta make sure his old legs are fighting fit” You smirk as Bucky grumbles under his breath, shoving his hands further into his coat pockets. The tip of his nose turning red as the winter air stings at your cheeks, you watch slightly helplessly. Your eyes follow the two figures down the street before turning to meet Steve’s.

~~~

I hope you don’t mind I made us some tea.” You sit perched on the couch, like a bird ready to take flight at the slightest disturbance. That’s what you were now, a flightless bird still clinging onto the last branch as the tree continued to burn around you.

“Tea is fine.” your voice is monotone, eyes scanning around the room. Knickknacks of a life lived stung, not as much as you thought they would. But stung nevertheless, you watch as Steve shakily pours the tea into the cup. The brown liquid splashes dangerously for a moment and out of instinct you reach out to steady his hand. It’s frail and cold, skin pulled tight over bones, nothing like the strong hands that held you all those years ago. Once your cup was filled you cleared your throat.

“Do you have any..” But Steve was already pushing an open jar of honey towards you.

“You remembered?” you swallowed thickly, gently taking the slightly sticky mason jar from him.

“I never forgot, you always liked things a little sweet.” you couldn’t help the slight tug of your mouth.

“You cut your hair.” he muses, you sip your tea trying to compose yourself.

“Needed a change after what happened” a noise escapes Steve making you look up. Guilt, piles of it. Mountains buried for years as you break the last memory he has of you.

“I’m so sorr..”

“I hated you, you know.” Steve settles back into the armchair, head bowed with his hands clasped before him. Gone was your golden lover, now there was a man who had lived the life he had yearned for but broke yours into a thousand pieces in the process. Some of them still floating like ash around you.

“I hated you for so long, since the moment Bucky told me you were there that day you went back. I hated every day for the past two years.”

“Not as much as I hated myself.” a flare goes off within you.

“You made a decision Steve, you could have left her alone. But you didn’t.”

“No I didn’t” you stare into Steve’s eyes, you search his face. Trying to find the man you loved, the man you bled for. The man who you defined yourself for.

“It looks good, the hair. You look... different.”

“I feel different” you take another sip of tea, it was lukewarm and sat heavy in your stomach. “Did you get the life you wanted? Love? Family? Stability?”

“I did.”

“Was it worth it?” Steve looks at you for a long time, a slow smile spread across his mouth. You knew he was thinking back, reminiscing.

“It was, but,” he reaches across to you, taking both of your hands in his. Bringing them to his lips kissing your knuckles gently.

“I am so sorry for the pain I caused you, sweetheart. I never wanted to hurt you, but... Peggy, she was,”

“The love of your life, I know Steve.” you give him a small sad smile that really hits the final nail on the head.

“I’m not sure if I’ll ever truly forgive you for what you did to me, you broke me, Steve. In every way, a person can be. I don’t even know if I’ll be the same person when all the pieces get put back together. But I know a small part of me, and over time it will grow, is happy you got what you deserved. You fought for so long, I assumed with me by your side it would make the fighting easier.” You squeeze his hands gently.

“But you were always going to be the man out of time, you were meant to take that chance. As much as it kills me inside because I burned for you, Steve. So brightly it consumed me I didn’t realise what was truly going on right in front of me.” your feel your chest clench as Steve’s eyes gloss over.

“I really did love you, for those first few years, I really did think I could live in the modern world with you... Then finding Bucky and the snap. And you were gone for so long. I didn’t know how to live... Then I saw Peggy again and part of me thought I could have a life with her again, we weren’t even sure the stones were going to bring everyone back.”

“But they did… and here we are Steve.” Your tea was stone cold as you held Steve’s hands, both of you mentally drained at the reality of what you both endured.

“We named our daughter after you.” his voice is so quiet you almost miss it, you let out a watery chuckle.

“Really?”

“Yeah, you and Natasha, she’s named after two of the most important women in my life. The women who saved me in those first few years out of the ice, who helped save the world.”

“I’m sure Margaret loved that,” the bitterness is laced thick in your words, instantly you regret saying them. “I’m sorry that wasn’t fair.”

“She understood what I sacrificed to be back with her. She was the one who suggested your name.” You feel your legs shake slightly, the room suddenly becoming too hot to bear.

“She knew about me?”

“I told her everything, she wasn’t best pleased with the way I handled our last conversation” Steve gives a wry chuckle before continuing. “She said she owed a lot to you, for putting me back together. She also knew I left you in the best hands I could trust, we owed our lives to you. Now you have to go and live the one you deserve, not for anyone else but you” There was that flash of determination in Steve’s eyes you were so familiar with, the one that was always present before charging into battle, into the unknown. That it made you surge forward wrapping your arms around his bone shoulders tears blinding your vision.

“What if I don’t know how to do that” Steve chuckles, wrapping his arms around you rubbing his hands up and down your back.

“Sweetheart, if anyone can do it. You can”

~~~

Sweet and thick, the air flowed around you like nectar. Offset slightly by the cool sharp contrast of the lake lapping at your toes. The Yellow summer dress rucked up to your thighs trying to get as much of the breeze on your skin as possible, sweat trickled down your neck as you turned your face up to the sky humming. The only thing cutting thought the sweet peaceful summer afternoon was the soft footfalls walking towards you and the soft grunt of a body dropping to your left.

“It’s hot as hell out here” Bucky grunted, you cracked an eye open glancing at him before closing it again.

“Well, you are wearing jeans and combat boots in August” you bluntly pointed out.

“Yeah but then how else am I gonna convey I’m mean and scary as hell” you didn’t need to open your eyes to know he was grinning like the Cheshire cat, just as he didn’t need you to open your eyes too see them rolling under your lids.

“You’re as mean and scary as Winnie the Pooh”

“Are you calling me fat?” you scoff finally opening your eyes to look at the blue eyes glittering before you.

“You are a lot thicker than you used to be Barnes”

“That’s because Wanda makes such good food” he groans falling back to lean on his elbows “It would be rude to refuse her”

“I’m sure she’d get over it” you grin nudging his calf with your foot, he grumbles for a moment before you laps into a peaceful silence.

“You doing okay?” the gravelly and sincere tone makes you tear your eyes away from a young starling taking flight off a low branch. The blue eyes you are met with are filled with nothing but affection, concern but also respect, the cool breeze whips around you again and you smile, as brilliant as the sun that shines down on you bathing you in the hopeful promise of tomorrow.

~~~

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #captain america x reader #captain america imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier imagine #steve rogers angst #captain america angst #writemarvelousthings #my writing

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semete-ningen-rashiku · 4 years

Text

The Happy Prince

High above the city, on a tall column, stood the statue of the Happy Prince. He was gilded all over with thin leaves of fine gold, for eyes he had two bright sapphires, and a large red ruby glowed on his sword-hilt.

He was very much admired indeed. “He is as beautiful as a weathercock,” remarked one of the Town Councillors who wished to gain a reputation for having artistic tastes; “only not quite so useful,” he added, fearing lest people should think him unpractical, which he really was not.

“Why can’t you be like the Happy Prince?” asked a sensible mother of her little boy who was crying for the moon. “The Happy Prince never dreams of crying for anything.”

“I am glad there is some one in the world who is quite happy,” muttered a disappointed man as he gazed at the wonderful statue.

“He looks just like an angel,” said the Charity Children as they came out of the cathedral in their bright scarlet cloaks and their clean white pinafores.

“How do you know?” said the Mathematical Master, “you have never seen one.”

“Ah! but we have, in our dreams,” answered the children; and the Mathematical Master frowned and looked very severe, for he did not approve of children dreaming.

One night there flew over the city a little Swallow. His friends had gone away to Egypt six weeks before, but he had stayed behind, for he was in love with the most beautiful Reed. He had met her early in the spring as he was flying down the river after a big yellow moth, and had been so attracted by her slender waist that he had stopped to talk to her.

“Shall I love you?” said the Swallow, who liked to come to the point at once, and the Reed made him a low bow. So he flew round and round her, touching the water with his wings, and making silver ripples. This was his courtship, and it lasted all through the summer.

“It is a ridiculous attachment,” twittered the other Swallows; “she has no money, and far too many relations”; and indeed the river was quite full of Reeds. Then, when the autumn came they all flew away.

After they had gone he felt lonely, and began to tire of his lady-love. “She has no conversation,” he said, “and I am afraid that she is a coquette, for she is always flirting with the wind.” And certainly, whenever the wind blew, the Reed made the most graceful curtseys. “I admit that she is domestic,” he continued, “but I love travelling, and my wife, consequently, should love travelling also.”

“Will you come away with me?” he said finally to her; but the Reed shook her head, she was so attached to her home.

“You have been trifling with me,” he cried. “I am off to the Pyramids. Good-bye!” and he flew away.

All day long he flew, and at night-time he arrived at the city. “Where shall I put up?” he said; “I hope the town has made preparations.”

Then he saw the statue on the tall column.

“I will put up there,” he cried; “it is a fine position, with plenty of fresh air.” So he alighted just between the feet of the Happy Prince.

“I have a golden bedroom,” he said softly to himself as he looked round, and he prepared to go to sleep; but just as he was putting his head under his wing a large drop of water fell on him. “What a curious thing!” he cried; “there is not a single cloud in the sky, the stars are quite clear and bright, and yet it is raining. The climate in the north of Europe is really dreadful. The Reed used to like the rain, but that was merely her selfishness.”

Then another drop fell.

“What is the use of a statue if it cannot keep the rain off?” he said; “I must look for a good chimney-pot,” and he determined to fly away.

But before he had opened his wings, a third drop fell, and he looked up, and saw—Ah! what did he see?

The eyes of the Happy Prince were filled with tears, and tears were running down his golden cheeks. His face was so beautiful in the moonlight that the little Swallow was filled with pity.

“Who are you?” he said.

“I am the Happy Prince.”

“Why are you weeping then?” asked the Swallow; “you have quite drenched me.”

“When I was alive and had a human heart,” answered the statue, “I did not know what tears were, for I lived in the Palace of Sans-Souci, where sorrow is not allowed to enter. In the daytime I played with my companions in the garden, and in the evening I led the dance in the Great Hall. Round the garden ran a very lofty wall, but I never cared to ask what lay beyond it, everything about me was so beautiful. My courtiers called me the Happy Prince, and happy indeed I was, if pleasure be happiness. So I lived, and so I died. And now that I am dead they have set me up here so high that I can see all the ugliness and all the misery of my city, and though my heart is made of lead yet I cannot chose but weep.”

“What! is he not solid gold?” said the Swallow to himself. He was too polite to make any personal remarks out loud.

“Far away,” continued the statue in a low musical voice, “far away in a little street there is a poor house. One of the windows is open, and through it I can see a woman seated at a table. Her face is thin and worn, and she has coarse, red hands, all pricked by the needle, for she is a seamstress. She is embroidering passion-flowers on a satin gown for the loveliest of the Queen’s maids-of-honour to wear at the next Court-ball. In a bed in the corner of the room her little boy is lying ill. He has a fever, and is asking for oranges. His mother has nothing to give him but river water, so he is crying. Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow, will you not bring her the ruby out of my sword-hilt? My feet are fastened to this pedestal and I cannot move.”

“I am waited for in Egypt,” said the Swallow. “My friends are flying up and down the Nile, and talking to the large lotus-flowers. Soon they will go to sleep in the tomb of the great King. The King is there himself in his painted coffin. He is wrapped in yellow linen, and embalmed with spices. Round his neck is a chain of pale green jade, and his hands are like withered leaves.”

“Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,” said the Prince, “will you not stay with me for one night, and be my messenger? The boy is so thirsty, and the mother so sad.”

“I don’t think I like boys,” answered the Swallow. “Last summer, when I was staying on the river, there were two rude boys, the miller’s sons, who were always throwing stones at me. They never hit me, of course; we swallows fly far too well for that, and besides, I come of a family famous for its agility; but still, it was a mark of disrespect.”

But the Happy Prince looked so sad that the little Swallow was sorry. “It is very cold here,” he said; “but I will stay with you for one night, and be your messenger.”

“Thank you, little Swallow,” said the Prince.

So the Swallow picked out the great ruby from the Prince’s sword, and flew away with it in his beak over the roofs of the town.

He passed by the cathedral tower, where the white marble angels were sculptured. He passed by the palace and heard the sound of dancing. A beautiful girl came out on the balcony with her lover. “How wonderful the stars are,” he said to her, “and how wonderful is the power of love!”

“I hope my dress will be ready in time for the State-ball,” she answered; “I have ordered passion-flowers to be embroidered on it; but the seamstresses are so lazy.”

He passed over the river, and saw the lanterns hanging to the masts of the ships. He passed over the Ghetto, and saw the old Jews bargaining with each other, and weighing out money in copper scales. At last he came to the poor house and looked in. The boy was tossing feverishly on his bed, and the mother had fallen asleep, she was so tired. In he hopped, and laid the great ruby on the table beside the woman’s thimble. Then he flew gently round the bed, fanning the boy’s forehead with his wings. “How cool I feel,” said the boy, “I must be getting better”; and he sank into a delicious slumber.

Then the Swallow flew back to the Happy Prince, and told him what he had done. “It is curious,” he remarked, “but I feel quite warm now, although it is so cold.”

“That is because you have done a good action,” said the Prince. And the little Swallow began to think, and then he fell asleep. Thinking always made him sleepy.

When day broke he flew down to the river and had a bath. “What a remarkable phenomenon,” said the Professor of Ornithology as he was passing over the bridge. “A swallow in winter!” And he wrote a long letter about it to the local newspaper. Every one quoted it, it was full of so many words that they could not understand.

“To-night I go to Egypt,” said the Swallow, and he was in high spirits at the prospect. He visited all the public monuments, and sat a long time on top of the church steeple. Wherever he went the Sparrows chirruped, and said to each other, “What a distinguished stranger!” so he enjoyed himself very much.

When the moon rose he flew back to the Happy Prince. “Have you any commissions for Egypt?” he cried; “I am just starting.”

“Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,” said the Prince, “will you not stay with me one night longer?”

“I am waited for in Egypt,” answered the Swallow. “To-morrow my friends will fly up to the Second Cataract. The river-horse couches there among the bulrushes, and on a great granite throne sits the God Memnon. All night long he watches the stars, and when the morning star shines he utters one cry of joy, and then he is silent. At noon the yellow lions come down to the water’s edge to drink. They have eyes like green beryls, and their roar is louder than the roar of the cataract.”

“Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,” said the Prince, “far away across the city I see a young man in a garret. He is leaning over a desk covered with papers, and in a tumbler by his side there is a bunch of withered violets. His hair is brown and crisp, and his lips are red as a pomegranate, and he has large and dreamy eyes. He is trying to finish a play for the Director of the Theatre, but he is too cold to write any more. There is no fire in the grate, and hunger has made him faint.”

“I will wait with you one night longer,” said the Swallow, who really had a good heart. “Shall I take him another ruby?”

“Alas! I have no ruby now,” said the Prince; “my eyes are all that I have left. They are made of rare sapphires, which were brought out of India a thousand years ago. Pluck out one of them and take it to him. He will sell it to the jeweller, and buy food and firewood, and finish his play.”

“Dear Prince,” said the Swallow, “I cannot do that”; and he began to weep.

“Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,” said the Prince, “do as I command you.”

So the Swallow plucked out the Prince’s eye, and flew away to the student’s garret. It was easy enough to get in, as there was a hole in the roof. Through this he darted, and came into the room. The young man had his head buried in his hands, so he did not hear the flutter of the bird’s wings, and when he looked up he found the beautiful sapphire lying on the withered violets.

“I am beginning to be appreciated,” he cried; “this is from some great admirer. Now I can finish my play,” and he looked quite happy.

The next day the Swallow flew down to the harbour. He sat on the mast of a large vessel and watched the sailors hauling big chests out of the hold with ropes. “Heave a-hoy!” they shouted as each chest came up. “I am going to Egypt”! cried the Swallow, but nobody minded, and when the moon rose he flew back to the Happy Prince.

“I am come to bid you good-bye,” he cried.

“Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,” said the Prince, “will you not stay with me one night longer?”

“It is winter,” answered the Swallow, “and the chill snow will soon be here. In Egypt the sun is warm on the green palm-trees, and the crocodiles lie in the mud and look lazily about them. My companions are building a nest in the Temple of Baalbec, and the pink and white doves are watching them, and cooing to each other. Dear Prince, I must leave you, but I will never forget you, and next spring I will bring you back two beautiful jewels in place of those you have given away. The ruby shall be redder than a red rose, and the sapphire shall be as blue as the great sea.”

“In the square below,” said the Happy Prince, “there stands a little match-girl. She has let her matches fall in the gutter, and they are all spoiled. Her father will beat her if she does not bring home some money, and she is crying. She has no shoes or stockings, and her little head is bare. Pluck out my other eye, and give it to her, and her father will not beat her.”

“I will stay with you one night longer,” said the Swallow, “but I cannot pluck out your eye. You would be quite blind then.”

“Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,” said the Prince, “do as I command you.”

So he plucked out the Prince’s other eye, and darted down with it. He swooped past the match-girl, and slipped the jewel into the palm of her hand. “What a lovely bit of glass,” cried the little girl; and she ran home, laughing.

Then the Swallow came back to the Prince. “You are blind now,” he said, “so I will stay with you always.”

“No, little Swallow,” said the poor Prince, “you must go away to Egypt.”

“I will stay with you always,” said the Swallow, and he slept at the Prince’s feet.

All the next day he sat on the Prince’s shoulder, and told him stories of what he had seen in strange lands. He told him of the red ibises, who stand in long rows on the banks of the Nile, and catch gold-fish in their beaks; of the Sphinx, who is as old as the world itself, and lives in the desert, and knows everything; of the merchants, who walk slowly by the side of their camels, and carry amber beads in their hands; of the King of the Mountains of the Moon, who is as black as ebony, and worships a large crystal; of the great green snake that sleeps in a palm-tree, and has twenty priests to feed it with honey-cakes; and of the pygmies who sail over a big lake on large flat leaves, and are always at war with the butterflies.

“Dear little Swallow,” said the Prince, “you tell me of marvellous things, but more marvellous than anything is the suffering of men and of women. There is no Mystery so great as Misery. Fly over my city, little Swallow, and tell me what you see there.”

So the Swallow flew over the great city, and saw the rich making merry in their beautiful houses, while the beggars were sitting at the gates. He flew into dark lanes, and saw the white faces of starving children looking out listlessly at the black streets. Under the archway of a bridge two little boys were lying in one another’s arms to try and keep themselves warm. “How hungry we are!” they said. “You must not lie here,” shouted the Watchman, and they wandered out into the rain.

Then he flew back and told the Prince what he had seen.

“I am covered with fine gold,” said the Prince, “you must take it off, leaf by leaf, and give it to my poor; the living always think that gold can make them happy.”

Leaf after leaf of the fine gold the Swallow picked off, till the Happy Prince looked quite dull and grey. Leaf after leaf of the fine gold he brought to the poor, and the children’s faces grew rosier, and they laughed and played games in the street. “We have bread now!” they cried.

Then the snow came, and after the snow came the frost. The streets looked as if they were made of silver, they were so bright and glistening; long icicles like crystal daggers hung down from the eaves of the houses, everybody went about in furs, and the little boys wore scarlet caps and skated on the ice.

The poor little Swallow grew colder and colder, but he would not leave the Prince, he loved him too well. He picked up crumbs outside the baker’s door when the baker was not looking and tried to keep himself warm by flapping his wings.

But at last he knew that he was going to die. He had just strength to fly up to the Prince’s shoulder once more. “Good-bye, dear Prince!” he murmured, “will you let me kiss your hand?”

“I am glad that you are going to Egypt at last, little Swallow,” said the Prince, “you have stayed too long here; but you must kiss me on the lips, for I love you.”

“It is not to Egypt that I am going,” said the Swallow. “I am going to the House of Death. Death is the brother of Sleep, is he not?”

And he kissed the Happy Prince on the lips, and fell down dead at his feet.

At that moment a curious crack sounded inside the statue, as if something had broken. The fact is that the leaden heart had snapped right in two. It certainly was a dreadfully hard frost.

Early the next morning the Mayor was walking in the square below in company with the Town Councillors. As they passed the column he looked up at the statue: “Dear me! how shabby the Happy Prince looks!” he said.

“How shabby indeed!” cried the Town Councillors, who always agreed with the Mayor; and they went up to look at it.

“The ruby has fallen out of his sword, his eyes are gone, and he is golden no longer,” said the Mayor in fact, “he is litttle better than a beggar!”

“Little better than a beggar,” said the Town Councillors.

“And here is actually a dead bird at his feet!” continued the Mayor. “We must really issue a proclamation that birds are not to be allowed to die here.” And the Town Clerk made a note of the suggestion.

So they pulled down the statue of the Happy Prince. “As he is no longer beautiful he is no longer useful,” said the Art Professor at the University.

Then they melted the statue in a furnace, and the Mayor held a meeting of the Corporation to decide what was to be done with the metal. “We must have another statue, of course,” he said, “and it shall be a statue of myself.”

“Of myself,” said each of the Town Councillors, and they quarrelled. When I last heard of them they were quarrelling still.

“What a strange thing!” said the overseer of the workmen at the foundry. “This broken lead heart will not melt in the furnace. We must throw it away.” So they threw it on a dust-heap where the dead Swallow was also lying.

“Bring me the two most precious things in the city,” said God to one of His Angels; and the Angel brought Him the leaden heart and the dead bird.

“You have rightly chosen,” said God, “for in my garden of Paradise this little bird shall sing for evermore, and in my city of gold the Happy Prince shall praise me.”

#the happy prince #oscar wilde #literature #short story #novel

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