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causenessus · 7 months

Text

Loving You. | Haikyuu

inc. akaashi, bokuto, oikawa, iwaizumi, atsumu

written in 2nd pov (female reader implied)

song recc: help they all have a song AND/or a quote anyway hatachi no koi by lamp <3

word count: 1884 words

summary: "they love you. how do they show it?"

hello hyperspecific examples? hopefully they're fun to read and make sense!! shoutout to the boy whose bokuto's is based off of <3 also first time writing for atsumu so hopefully i did ok!!!!!

they love you. how do they show it?

hello hyperspecific examples?

akaashi

“have you eaten? (i love you). did you get enough sleep last night? (i love you). how do you feel today? (i love you). did you have a nice day? (i love you). will you come on a walk with me? (i love you). here’s some fruit i cut up for you. (i love you) (i love you) (i love you).” "you're my everything"

although he’s quiet i just think he’s so expressive

like he has no trouble saying “i love you” but also says it in so many other ways than just that

he cares so much about you you’re not even able to doubt it for one second. it’s like every question is just his way of saying “i love you”

“did you eat today? do you want something to eat?” “how was your sleep? did you get enough sleep?” all his way of saying i love you

he’s always randomly coming into the room you’re currently in, gently grabbing both sides of your head and just kissing you all over, no words, just adoration <3

again I don’t think he’d have any trouble saying that he love you but it just feels so much more intimate, easier, and meaningful for him to find ways to show/say it instead

he’s such a big fan of the three taps to say i love you (link to an image post about the original person who did this)

he’s always holding your hand in public, giving it three squeezes, he’ll be playing with your fingers when you guys are sitting together and suddenly he’s giving your skin three taps. he’ll kiss your forehead three times, he’s always telling you that he loves you <3

he just loves to be around you and he’s always looking out for you

if you guys have a class together and you unexpectedly don’t show up to class, he’s texting you immediately to make sure everything’s okay

and he’s always keeping you company while you’re doing things, from homework to cooking to just reading

if you need help or will let him help with anything, he’s more than happy to but he also just loves chilling

from the beginning of your relationship and even before when you guys were just friends, hangouts often went on way longer than they were supposed to and you often stay over at each others’ houses because neither of you can bear to leave the presence of the other <3

bokuto

“love is not an everlasting performance in which you attempt to retain the attention of your significant other but rather a release of control and putting faith into them and trusting them to choose to stay with you no matter what you have to offer. to love and be loved is to rest.”

he trusts you so much

like yes this precious baby has definitely put his entire trust into a lot of people but you’re so so much more to him and it’s different <3

he feels so safe with you and he know he can trust you with literally anything, he does not hesitate to share or tell you anything

he’s following you around all the time like a lost puppy

guaranteed there’s been at least one time where he had to navigate an arena away from home without you and akaashi

he did not show up to warm ups

someone had to come find him huddled in a corner, alone and lost

that random fact about how you feel sleepy around the people you trust?

he can be so energetic with you but other times he can’t even keep his eyes open around you

he’s always falling asleep, his head lulling to the side and resting on your shoulder on train rides back home

sometimes he’ll be telling you stories and suddenly letting out the biggest yawn ever

he'll forget that he's talking because suddenly all he wants to do is spend his time curled up with you <3

he loves to lean against you or be in contact with you in someway, whether that be holding your hand (or just a finger <3) or a hand on your thigh, it makes him feel so sleepy but so safe

murmurs so many “I love you”s before falling asleep

because he trusts you he’s also so good at listening to you too

from the silliest of things to actual requests <3

this is about to get so hyperspecific bear w me pls

you’d just finished redesigning a profile for a social media account and in a passing thought, as you guys were laying with each other in bed, you happen to say, “you should change your profile picture at some point, kou. you've had it for years.”

you didn’t mean it anyway bad, just something you suggested since you had just reorganized your own profile but you still loved his current profile picture <3

but the next time you happened to see his account, you noticed it was a mirror pic from before you two had dressed up to go out a few months ago

“when did you change your profile picture, love? it’s adorable,” you smiled as you kissed his head while he was laying on you

“like 10 minutes after you told me to, i just had to find the right photo,” he mumbled, his voice muffled from your shirt that he had buried his face into

other times it’s things like helping around the house, asking him to wash the dishes while you’re cooking for example

he’s so willing to help but in the beginning, he was lost

he was so ready to wash them but darling could not find the soap

but he loves you so much he’s always working so hard to do what you ask of him so he’ll make sure he learns more about chores to help out more and ofc there’s always more to learn so he’ll always be following your lead <3

oikawa

“when you like the spotlight as much as i do, it’s quite an adjustment to realize that the real reason you might be here is to shine it on someone else.” "she looks just like a dream / the prettiest girl i've ever seen."

man has been living with a spotlight shining on him his whole life

but once he met you, he completely fell in love and he moves the spotlight to be on you <3

literally just completely worships you must i say more

he does not let insecurities slide he’s your #1 hypeman and will fight anyone who disagrees

people around you both have noticed that since you guys started dating, you’ve grown more confident as a result of his love <33333

it doesn’t have to be big changes, literally just things like you’re able to talk louder, voice opinions, or try new things because he’s always there to encourage you along the way

take it you’re a little shy and don’t usually talk very loud but you have to if you’re going to get everyone’s attention in a setting such as trying to manage seijoh’s volleyball team (good luck with that 💔)

you raised your voice and it worked so that you could quiet the boys down in order to explain a change in plans for practice

afterwards, tooru’s coming up to you with a big smile on his face as he rests his forehead against yours

“i don’t think i’ve ever heard you yell, princess,” he says, looking into your eyes but you can’t help but take what he says in a bad way, looking away

“i didn’t mean to yell at you guys, i just didn’t know what else to do,” you mumble back with a frown

he kisses it away with a small laugh, “no, don’t feel bad, pretty. we were all surprised but so proud of you. you never would have done that at the start of the school year.”

he’s so happy whenever you try something new and he’s always there to tell you how well you’re doing even if you don’t feel like it

if you show that you love him by supporting him in his passions and all that he does, he shows his love by supporting you 1000% back

iwaizumi

“there’s nothing softer and more gentle than loving someone with your whole heart and never once holding back when it comes to them.” "think i'm gonna love you 'til i'm dead / i can't wait to buy you things / a brand new diamond ring / this is more than just a fling"

man loves so hard

i cannot see him in a short-term or commitment-free relationship

if he loves someone, he loves them wholly and completely. he’s all in, giving you everything

even before you guys started dating he was always checking in, making sure you were doing okay and offering hugs if you ever needed them

you cannot tell me that he doesn’t give the best hugs ever <33

now that you are dating though it’s just an excuse to love you more and show it in so many ways <3

as i say every single time, i just know he loves buying you gifts

you’re always on his mind, in every situation, whether he’s walking around and sees something in the window of a store that he knows you would like, or when he’s going to go pick something up to eat, he’ll always buy you something as well <3

he’ll really do anything for you, too. ask and it’s almost guaranteed

“iwa, can i draw on u”

“anything you want, princess”

“can we go get ice cream?” (it’s midnight)

“yea, are you ready to go now, love?”

all he needs in return is your love

adores getting to take naps with you or just laying in bed with you and in public, he always has an arm around your waist or should, keeping you close

with him it’s a complete all-all 100% relationship from both sides, that's what love is to him

everything is shared between you guys from money to items to secrets, you guys have complete trust in each other there’s not even a question about it he’s so good at communicating and keeping everything clear

everything he has is yours if you’ll be his <3

atsumu

“the one that loves, does he come back? the one that loves never leaves, my dear.”

he just completely softens around you

in fact i could see him getting worse around other people because you’re just the only one that matters to him

you know those videos about gym bros with girlfriends who act all misogynistic and stinky at the gym so that girls don’t approach them? that’s him. (i tried so hard to find a video as an example but i could not pls tell me u know what i’m talking about)

if any girl other than you tries to approach him literally anywhere they’re about to be absolutely obliterated when he flat out ignores him. or, if they don’t get the hint and he finally acknowledges them, he gives them the dirtiest, coldest look known to man, his nose wrinkling as he turns to them

“huh? yer talking to me? why? piss off.”

everyone knows that if they have to give him bad news, it’s best to do it when you’re in his general proximity or he’s just talked to you because that’s when he’ll receive it best

it’s nearly impossible to anger him when you’re around, and even if he gets upset, he won’t blow up, he’s just too enamored by you <3

loves to hold your hand in his lap or have a hand on your thigh and he’s content with life

his voice always lowers and softens when he’s around you, and he gives you the sweetest heart eyes

he’s always looking at you and he’ll tease you a lot just because he adores your reactions but they’re all just playful jokes

“ya know, if you ever wanted to cheer for me when everyone goes silent during games, I’d let ya,” he told you once while he was keeping you company before a game on a bench

“what? I could never do that,” your face heated at the thought, “it’d just be me and everyone would look at me. someone would probably even get mad.”

he chuckled, shaking his head as he brought your knuckles to his lips, “that’s the point. you’d sound so cute, and they’d know yer mine.”

if you ever had a problem with how he treats other people, he’d try to work on it if you talk to him about it

no promises, but he’ll do his best for his princess <3

#akaashi x reader #bokuto x reader #oikawa x reader #iwaizumi x reader #atsumu x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcannons

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yuffi369 · 1 year

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I had this idea earlier today and couldn't get it out of my head, so, here. Inscryption content be upon ye

Daisy Bell

P03 x GN!Reader

You find out that P03 tends to sing to himself when he works alone.

You'd been in the land of Inscryption for a while. You'd no idea how long time had passed outside, but here, it felt like a month. Time moved inside the disk faster than it did in the outside world. P03 had suggested a minute outside was about a day inside- so you'd guessed you'd been gone about thirty minutes, give or take.

The Scrybes didn't know how to get you out of the game. They were used to interfacing with a Challenger through a screen, not actually having a real human being standing face-to-face with them. While they had their own goals in mind, you were on friendly enough terms with all of them to where they all wanted to help you get back to your own life. Sadly, progress had been naught so far, but it was the thought that counted. In exchange for their help, you gave them company, something they all desperately desired.

The one you visited the most frequently was P03, oddly enough. Leshy had let you build a small cabin right by the ocean in his domain, so it was clear on the other side of the island to visit the Scrybe of Technology, but you liked spending time with him. You found it easy to simply sit in the same room, working on separate projects, but together. He wouldn't admit it, but he enjoyed your company, too.

Today, you brought a basket full of lunch food- sandwiches, veggies, pastries. P03 didn't eat much, but he could, if he wanted, and if you offered he always took at least something, to be polite (which, in fairness, he wasn't used to being polite, either). You mostly brought food because you knew you'd be over working for a long time, and if you didn't bring any food you likely wouldn't eat again until you got home.

As you entered P03's factory, standing outside the door, you thought you heard something. High-pitched tones, coming from small speakers inside the building. You thought the song sounded familiar...

As you were trying to recall where you'd heard this song before- it was on the tip of your tongue, so frustrating!- you heard... P03's voice. You were stunned into silence as you heard him singing along to the familiar melody.

"Daisy, Daisy, Give me your answer, do I'm half crazy, All for the love of you"

You remember, now, upon hearing the lyrics. The first vocal synthesizer had sung this song, in 1961. It sounded so sweet, coming from P03's voice box. You guessed that the programmers of Inscryption fed this into his AI, potentially to give him some kind of more realistic-sounding dialogue.

You had a habit of singing along to songs without even realizing it. Upon the second half of the song starting, you began to sing along with the melody as well.

"It won't be a stylish marriage, I can't afford a carriage, But you'll look sweet, upon the seat, Of a bicycle built for two"

Abruptly, the speakers stopped playing the melody. You stepped back as the door to the factory quickly opened. P03 stared at you, with a slightly annoyed expression. Although, was that... blush, on one cheek of his face display? You didn't even know he was capable of being embarrassed.

"Hey," you said, casually. "Mind if I hang out for lunch?"

"Yeah, sure," they replied briskly, turning and hovering back over to their desk. "Next time, just knock."

You shrugged. "I was trying to figure out what song it was. I didn't know you knew how to sing..."

"It's just a catchy tune. Music helps me focus, sometimes. You know how you stinky humans used to sing work tunes when you were working on railroads or sailing ships? Kind of like that."

You smiled. "I think it's a sweet song."

P03 was... oddly silent, for a long moment. His monitor facing away from you, so you couldn't see what expression he was displaying, he finally replied, "Yeah, it's alright, I guess. Been stuck in my head a while."

You sat down on the other side of the table, big enough for the two of you to work on your separate projects. As you begun to get out your notebook to work on your next writing project, you begun to sing under your breath, the song stuck in your head.

"There is a flower within my heart, Daisy, Daisy, Planted one day by a glancing dart, Planted by Daisy Bell"

From the corner of your eye, you saw P03 shift in his seat. You heard him play the melody, and then, you heard his voice box pick up singing the next verse.

"Whether she loves me or loves me not, Sometimes it's hard to tell; Yet I am longing to share the lot Of beautiful Daisy Bell"

With the next chorus, you sang together again, this time intentionally.

"Daisy, Daisy, Give me your answer, do I'm half crazy, All for the love of you!

It won't be a stylish marriage, I can't afford a carriage, But you'll look sweet, upon the seat, Of a bicycle built for two!"

"Enough," P03 said, cutting off the melody. "We're getting distracted."

You looked back up at P03 and nodded. "Sorry." You could've sworn you saw his display face had a blushing expression again. But you decided not to pry, and simply got back to work.

#inscryption #p03 #p03 inscryption #inscryption p03 #p03 x reader #this was MEANT to be a drabble but i guess i write nearly 1000 words real easy lol

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eddieschains · 2 years

Note

prompt: “look at you, you little slut” but its reader saying it to Eddie? You can choose the details :D

omg yes yes yes i hope you like this!!

TW// 18+, masturbation (m receiving), voyeurism, brief degradation, slight sub!eddie, oral (m and f receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), let me know if i missed anything!!

Look At You, Such A Little Fucking Slut

You and Eddie had been best friends for years. You had met on the playground as kids when nobody wanted to play with either of you, and you’d been inseparable ever since.

Once you got to high school, your lives changed. Not drastically, but you two definitely shared different interests. You were more focused on school work and getting into a good college, while Eddie payed more attention to D&D and starting a band. You wouldn’t call Eddie a slacker, but he was on his second senior year so take that as you will. Even with your paths going in different places, he still managed to drive you to and from school everyday and keep you company while you studied at night.

Today you had to stay after hours for one of your club meetings, and while Eddie was upset he wouldn’t be able to spend time with you on the drive home, you promised to get a ride from someone else and meet him at his trailer afterwards.

You hated doing club work. All you wanted to do after school was be with Eddie, but you knew it would look good on college applications so you decided to just deal with it. Although you loved Eddie with all your heart, you didn’t want to repeat any years of school like him. But, that just meant you were able to go through senior year at the same time as him.

Your friend pulls up to Eddie’s trailer and you give her a thank you before hopping out and running up to the porch. Wayne’s truck was gone, signaling he probably went in to work for an early start. Wayne and Eddie established a no-knock policy for you. They treated you like family, and family was welcome anytime.

You walk into the trailer, but find no sign of Eddie other than the van parked outside. He was usually on the couch watching TV or could be heard learning some new Metallica song, but it was oddly quiet today.

“Eddie?” You call out, getting no response. “Eeeddiiieee…” You sing out while roaming the living room, looking out the windows but still, no response.

You thought maybe he went over to the neighbors to help with their car again, so you make your way to his bedroom to wait for him. The door is closed, and as you reach for the handle you can hear something on the other side. Some form of heavy breathing, and moaning? You thought maybe he was working out, which he didn’t do often but still dabbled in. Until you heard it.

“Fuck, Y/N.” Oh god. Was he? No he couldn’t be. But…

You open the door to find him spread out on his bed, completely naked with his hand wrapped around his cock.

“Shit!” He yells out, trying to grab a blanket to cover himself up as you just stood in the doorway, jaw agape. “Shit, I-I didn’t know you were gonna be here so soon.”

You’re in shock. Your best friend of nearly 10 years was sat in front of you, pleasuring himself to the thought of you. You know that you’re intruding on his private moment, but you can’t help the way it turned you on.

You wonder how many times he’s been sat in bed at night, rock hard just at the thought of you. How many times he just couldn’t help himself from getting off to the image of your face. You wonder if it’s the same amount of times you’ve been in a similar situation, only his face clouding your brain.

“Well don’t let me interrupt. Go on, continue.” You stand across the room with your arms crossed, as Eddie looks you up and down, trying to figure out if you’re being serious or not. “Did you hear me?” You say, a more forceful tone lacing your voice.

Eddie mumbles something incoherent before slowly lifting the covers off of his legs, exposing himself to you again. His cheeks are red, and you can see beads of sweat start form on his temples.

He slowly reaches down his body, placing his hand around his member and stroking slowly. His eyes don’t leave yours, making sure you’re positive this is what you want him to do. You watch his hand move up and down his cock, which only makes the pool between your legs grow.

“How does it feel?” You ask, your eyes still focused on his hand.

“G-good. Really good.” He stutters.

“What are you thinking about?” You already know the answer, but you want to hear it from his mouth.

“You. Always you.” His eyes finally start to close, the pleasure taking over him. The room starts to fill with his moans and heavy breathing as he slowly picks up the pace.

“Look at you, such a little fucking slut.” You tell him as you make your way over to the bed. You sit on the edge of the bed next to him, causing him to open his eyes again. “Want some help?”

He nods, not able to form any words. You bring your own hand to your mouth, spitting in it before removing his. Wrapping your hand around his cock, you start to pump him slowly, earning a loud groan from Eddie.

“Fuck your hand feels so good wrapped around me.” He watches the way you twist around him, spitting occasionally to lube him up even more. Before he can say another word, you bend down to lower your mouth on to him. “Shit.” He hisses, his hands immediately reaching for your hair.

You bob your head up and down his shaft with your hand pumping the excess that doesn’t fit. His fingers are laced in your hair, guiding you on his cock, moaning and groaning your name above you. His cock twitches in your mouth as his hands grip tighter in your hair, signaling he’s close to an orgasm. You pull yourself off of him and stand up next to the bed.

“What the fuck Y/N? I was about to cum.” He complains, as you stare at him with a smirk on your face.

“I know.” You respond, taking your pants off.

“What are you doing?”

“You think about fucking me when you jerk off, yeah?” He nods, furrowing his brows. “Them don’t you want the real thing?”

He scoffs as he watches you undress in front of him. Never in a million years would he have thought he’d have his best friend sucking his dick, let alone offering to fuck him.

Once you undress fully, he pulls you by the wrist, slamming you against the bed. He hovers over you before attaching his lips to yours. Furiously moving his mouth in time with yours, as you lift your hips to grind yourself on his cock.

“Mmm you taste good.” He moans, trailing his kisses down your neck. “Wanna eat your pussy. Return the favor, is that okay?”

You nod, twirling the ends of his hair in between your fingers. “How could I say no?”

He smiles, placing a kiss to your lips one more time before moving his body towards the end of the bed. Now face to face with your already dripping pussy.

“God you have the prettiest pussy, baby.” He says, spreading your lips with his fingers. Even considering everything that just happened, you get a little embarrassed thinking about the fact that your best friend is now looking at your naked body. “I bet she tastes so good too. Shall we find out?” It’s a rhetorical question of course, as he doesn’t wait for an answer before licking a stripe up from your entrance to your clit.

“Shit.” You breath out, finally getting some feeling of satisfaction from the ache between your legs. He takes his time, just like you did with him. Licking up and down your cunt, moaning at the taste.

“Mm just like I thought, delicious.” He smirks into you as you lightly smack him on the side of his head, giggling at his words. He licks one more stripe with the flat of his tongue before attaching his mouth on to your clit. You start to close your legs around his head, the pleasure almost becoming too much, before he pushes them back open.

“Oh my god, Eddie. Feels so good.” You moan, absentmindedly pulling his hair making him moan into your pussy. “Fuck, don’t stop. I’m gonna cum.” And with that, Eddie removed himself from you, sitting up on the bed watching you squirm. “What the fuck Eddie?!”

“Just returning the favor babe.” He smirks, as you mumble a few curse words, pulling him on top of you. You attach your lips to his, kissing him feverishly while your hand reaches down to his cock once again. He moans into the kiss as you stroke him, grinding yourself into him. “Want you to fuck me Eddie.” You swear his eyes almost popped out of his head.

You remove yourself from him as he kneels above you, replacing your hand with his own and sliding his dick in between your folds. “Ready?” He asks, bringing a hand to your cheek, caressing you softly. You nod, giving him permission.

He slowly pushes inside of you, both of you moaning at the feeling. He presses into you inch by inch, allowing you to get used to the feeling before bottoming out. “My god you’re so fucking tight, i’m not gonna last.” He chuckles, before pulling out almost fully and thrusting back in.

He gives you a couple more slow thrusts before his torso falls on top of yours. You wrap your arms around his waist and begin placing sloppy kisses on his neck as he continues thrusting shallow and deep. “Eddie…”

“I know baby, let it go. Whenever you’re ready, cum for me. Don’t hold back.” He moans into your ear, interlocking his fingers with yours as he speeds up his movements. He moves his hand down in between you two, rubbing circles on your clit to push you over the edge faster.

“Eddie, shit i’m gonna cum. Fuck i’m gonna cum.” You moan, before feeling the wave pleasure of rush over you. You curse his name under your breath as your back arches underneath him. He continues rubbing your button to push you through your high.

You feel his cock twitch inside of you before you’ve even come down from your high. His breathing becomes more rapid, along with his thrusts. “Oh my god i’m gonna cum baby. Where do you want it?” You don’t have the energy to form any words. You just open your mouth, sticking your tongue out as he nods in understanding.

He pulls out, crawling on top of you so that his cock is right in front of your face. “Fuck Y/N. Fuck fuck fuck.” He groans as he pumps his cock, before spilling his load into your waiting mouth. He continues stroking as you swallow all that he has to give you. The sight alone is almost enough to make him cum again.

He slides down your body, pressing his head into your chest as you rub his back. “Jesus christ. I love you.” You stop in your tracks, looking down at him as he curses under his breath. You didn’t think he felt that way for you, the same way you’ve felt for him all this time.

“What?” You ask, pulling his head up to yours.

“Fuck… I-I didn’t mean to… i’m sorry, just heat of the mom-“ You interrupt him by pulling him in for a kiss.

“I love you too. Always have.” You smile.

He smiles back, pecking your lips. “Always will.”

#eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson

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typical-simplelove · 2 years

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Illicit Affairs (M. Tkachuk)

Summary: Based off of Taylor Swift's Illicit Affairs

Author's Note: This has been a thought on my mind for so long, so I'm glad I've finally been able to put it onto paper. I wrote this today in like two hours because I just couldn't stop thinking about it, so I hope you enjoy it, and please let me know what you think!

Warnings: implied!female reader; arranged marriages; affairs; loveless relationships; the FBI; alcohol; many Folklore references; quite angsty; not proofread

Word Count: 5.5k (including song lyrics)

Make sure nobody sees you leave Hood over your head, keep your eyes down Tell your friends you're out for a run You'll be flushed when you return Take the road less traveled by Tell yourself you can always stop What started in beautiful rooms Ends with meetings in parking lots

Despite growing up in the glitz and glamour of the American Southeast’s socialite scene, it was never something you enjoyed. While the glitz and glamor and mirrorballs and champagne were fulfilling for moments at a time, you had to force yourself to try to enjoy it. You weren’t that old when you had the epiphany that you realized that you enjoy hanging out at home in your cardigan instead of trying to build up your family’s dynasty.

If there was one thing you did enjoy, however, was meeting so many different people. Your parents owned a large corporation with offices across the world (you couldn’t tell anyone what the company actually did) and had ownership in organizations across the world. It was interesting to see the different types of people and the traditions and how they lived their lives.

Because your parents were part owners of the Florida Panthers, they were invited to the hockey organization’s charity gala, and because your parents said yes to every invitation and used it as a networking event, your parents and you attended. It wasn’t any different than any other gala you’ve attended, but for some reason, you felt at peace. Normally, you opted to exile yourself to a corner and wait for your mother to introduce you to people, but this time, you wanted to do the mingling and networking.

It was half-past seven when your friend Betty introduced you to someone before running off for a secret rendezvous with her husband. You were always slightly jealous that she found the one for her who she wanted to spend the rest of her life with but someone her parents also approved of.

“Matthew Tkachuk,” he says, extending his hand. You place your hand in his as you say your name, and an electric shock goes through your body. You look into his eyes to see if he felt it, too, but when you look into his eyes, it feels as if an invisible string has attached itself between you two and is pulling you closer.

“Hi,” you whisper, your throat suddenly dry. Your mother would say you were acting like a mad woman; socialites don’t get tongue-tied.

“Hi,” he whispers back, his hand not leaving yours.

You both don’t say anything for many more seconds as you both struggle to find the words. What were you supposed to say to someone who basically felt like your soulmate?

Meeting Matthew felt like a beach day in the early days of August when the summer still felt like summer, and the impending year didn’t feel like it was fast approaching. Meeting Matthew felt like you were born anew. He was that missing piece.

“If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to run to the restroom quickly,” you say instantly, dropping Matthew’s hand and running away. You didn’t know what else to do or say.

True to your words, you run to the bathroom and run your hands under cold water to cool your body temperature down. By the time you feel more put together, you exit the bathroom. It’s a surprise when you see Matthew standing across the hall.

He looks up, and his eyes light up like a Christmas tree when he sees you. “I’m sorry for earlier. I didn’t mean to spook you or anything. Betty just told me that I had to meet you, and that’s it.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” you say, taking a brave step closer to him. You’re looking at him intently, and within seconds, his hands are cupping your face, and your hands move to pull him closer to you by the lapels of your jacket. You’re kissing him within nanoseconds, and it feels like everything’s functioning the way it’s supposed to.

Matthew’s kissing you passionately and forcefully, as if he can’t get enough of you, but he’s also making sure to be gentle and careful. He doesn’t want this to be just one kiss. This kiss is supposed to lead to another kiss to another to a lifetime of kisses that aren’t supposed to ever end.

When you both finally pull apart, it’s too soon.

“I hope that was okay,” he breathes out, still trying to get oxygen into his lungs.

“It was more than okay,” you whisper, placing a kiss on the corner of his mouth. You reach into the inside pocket of Matthew’s suit jacket and pull out his phone. You turn it on and turn it to his face to ask for his passcode. When he tells you the numbers, you give him a curious look, shocked that he told you considering he’s only known you for an hour. It feels like he’s known you for eons, though.

“It’s my mom’s birthday,” Matthew blurts out. “That’s my passcode.”

You smile as you find his contacts app and add your phone number. “I have to get back to my duties, but don’t be a stranger, Matthew.”

With another small kiss on his cheek, you hand Matthew back his phone and head back to the ballroom. For the next couple of hours, you and Matthew don’t cross paths. It’s a few hours later when Matthew comes up to you as you’re talking with Ines.

“Matthew, this is Ines,” you say as they shake hands.

“I’ll be back,” Ines tells you with a wink.

When she walks away, you give Matthew a curious smile and look at him. Before you’re able to say anything, someone walks up and wraps their arms around your waist and kisses your forehead.

“Ah, Matthew, I see you’ve met my fiancee,” Theodore says.

Matthew’s eyes go wide as he looks at you. “Fiancee?”

“Yeah,” Theodore responds. “Our parents have been friends for our entire lives, so we’ve been in each other’s orbits for years, and we fell in love and here we are.”

So, that was the story you and Theodore were going with.

“I don’t see a ring,” Matthew says, his voice choppy.

“Yeah, I didn’t pick the right ring size, so it’s currently at the jeweler's getting resized.”

“Well, congratulations, if you’ll excuse me,” Matthew announces and walks away to a different group.

It’s closer to midnight when you feel your phone buzz. It’s from an unknown number, but you know it’s Matthew. He’s asking you to meet him on the roof. Looking around to make sure that none of your family is looking, you sneak out of the ballroom and head to the roof.

“You’re engaged?” Matthew asks, enraged when you walk up to where he’s standing. “I know I just met you, but I think that should be some information I should get before I kiss you in the hallway.”

“It’s a loveless engagement,” you quickly defend.

“And?”

“It’s an arranged marriage,” you add. “My parents and his parents are basically forcing us to marry each other so that their respective companies can do a clean merge. Because I don’t have anyone else asking me to marry them, I don’t have a choice.”

“So, what, am I just something you do right before you pledge yourself to Theodore?” Matthew internally vows to never say Theodore’s name or to ever hear it come out of your mouth.

“No,” you say. “I met you, and it was like everything fit into place. Everything made sense, and that’s it. I didn’t come here tonight planning to kiss anyone but Theodore.” Matthew sneers at the name. “But you mean to tell me that what you feel between us doesn’t exist? Are you telling me that this pull that is evidently there between us isn’t there?”

“I’m not saying that,” Matthew responds. “It just would have been nice to know that you were engaged before I kissed you.”

“Understood,” you let out slowly. “You have my phone number if you ever want to talk or anything.”

With that, you head back inside, and Matthew watches you walk away, not putting up a fight. It really didn’t matter if you were engaged or not. He had to have you in his life, and he was going to find a way for it to happen.

So, he called you. And he kept on calling you because he couldn’t stay away. Phone calls turned into meeting for coffee at coffee shops on the other side of town, away from anyone who might know you. Coffee meetings turned into coffee dates with kissing. Kissing on coffee dates turned into kissing in his apartment to the point where Matthew was falling for you.

He should have stopped, but he couldn’t. That pull between you was enough for Matthew to ignore all reason that was telling him this could only end badly.

And that's the thing about illicit affairs And clandestine meetings and longing stares It's born from just one single glance But it dies, and it dies, and it dies A million little times

It wasn’t often that you managed to spend the night at Matthew’s, but Theodore was out of town for work, so you didn’t have anyone to have to pretend for you. Because he didn’t have any practices or games for the entire weekend, you got to Matthew’s late Friday night after the game and plan to stay until Sunday night where you’ll prepare for Theodore’s flight home early Monday morning.

You were up early on Sunday morning as you soaked in the warmth of Matthew’s ridiculously soft blankets and the warmth his body exuded. Not wanting to detach from his grasp, you get more comfortable in his hold, and in response, asleep Matthew pulls you closer to his body.

This. This is what you thought about when you were at your apartment sleeping in a cold bed next to Theodore. You dreamt about Matthew’s body being sturdy and stable right next to you. You dreamt about the smell of Matthew’s bed sheets, and you dreamt about the way his hair smelled when he took a shower right before going to bed. You dreamt about running your hands through his hair as he tried to stay awake and talk to you after a long day. You dreamt about his arms around you as he held you.

Most of these fantasies, however, lasted for a short amount of time before you had to force yourself to pull yourself from Matthew’s hold and bed and go home. There was only a reasonable time you could get home where Theodore didn’t ask questions (and you wouldn’t ask questions when he did the same). As of late, though, you’ve been pushing how late for a while. Every time you were cuddled into Matthew’s chest on his couch or in his bed, it took more and more out of you to escape his warmth and head home. His apartment exuded warmth, and when you went back to your apartment, it was as if you were stepping into a freezer. You tried to recreate that warmth, but the only way to do it was to have Matthew there. He was the warmth in your life and the only constant source of light.

You didn’t want to ever leave him, but unfortunately, life had demands, and you had to return to them.

“Are you awake?” Matthew murmurs, his voice and eyes groggy with sleep.

“Yeah,” you admit, tightening your hold on Matthew.

“I always try to wake up earlier because I know you’re up early, but I can never do it.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Yeah, but if I’m asleep, then it means we spend less time together, and I want to squeeze in as much time with you as possible,” Matthew answers, his heart racing. There were three words that he was heavily implying, but he wasn’t going to be the first one to say them. He couldn’t. Matthew couldn’t be the one to say them. Because of the extenuating circumstances of your relationship, Matthew is always careful to guard his heart. He doesn’t want to say the wrong thing that ruins it or exposes you. Matthew couldn’t offer you much because he got to love you in the shadows, but if he could offer you anything, it was the promise he’d protect your reputation because that’s all you could offer him. By coming to his apartment every few nights, you were putting your reputation and honor at risk, and while to some it may not mean that much, Matthew knows it’s absolutely everything. You’re giving Matthew absolutely everything to be with him, and he can’t ruin that, mostly because he doesn’t want to lose you.

“Every moment we’re together, whether it be asleep or awake, means everything to me, Matthew,” you answer, a nervousness in your voice. “It doesn’t matter because I love you.”

Matthew’s breath hitches in his throat. He didn’t think you’d ever say it. Matthew got to love you, but he only got to love you from the comfort of his apartment.

He didn’t respond for quite a few seconds, and you instantly started to pull away. “I understand if it’s not the way you feel and if this is just a physical thing for you. I’m sorry if I made things awkward.” Matthew doesn’t register your words until you rip yourself from his embrace and climb out of his bed; you’re changing out of his sweats and t-shirt before Matthew realizes just what happened. He lurches from the bed and rushes over to you.

“I love you, of course, I love you,” Matthew tells you wholeheartedly. “There isn’t a part of me that doesn’t love.”

He really shouldn’t have told you. It was all in secret. Matthew wanted so much more to a relationship with you than you could give, and while he’ll take the clandestine meetings every few days when he wasn’t on the road, it wasn’t enough. It was never enough. When you weren’t around, Matthew was a shell of himself; you were the light of his life and the one that kept all the colors shining bright in his life. But he loves you. Of course, he loves you. There isn’t a part of him that doesn’t love you.

The smile that overcomes your face is enough for Matthew to know he did the right thing. He chooses to push away any thoughts that you couldn’t give him the future he wanted and chooses to pretend that the minute you get into your car, you’re going to put your flashy engagement ring on. He chooses to pretend that he’s never going to be able to build a future with you.

“Don’t ever doubt that I don’t love you, okay?” Matthew continues. “There’s been this empty part of my heart that’s been throbbing for years to be filled, and I never knew what was supposed to fill that hole, and then I met you. Then, I kissed you. Then, I had you in my arm. That’s when I knew that you were that empty piece. You’re the one who fills that hole. I love you forever and ever, okay?”

“Okay” you murmur before connecting your lips with his. Oh, what he’d do to be able to kiss you in front of everyone he knows.

He only wishes he could tell you and everyone he knows that he loves you.

Leave the perfume on the shelf That you picked out just for him So you leave no trace behind Like you don't even exist Take the words for what they are A dwindling, mercurial high A drug that only worked The first few hundred times

More often than not, you initiated a meeting between you and Matthew. It worked better that way because it was easier to keep things a secret. You know that Matthew hated this system, but he knew how much was at stake for you if it was found out that you were having an affair. An affair was truly a kind word for it because you and Theodore were barely together. You two were engaged, but when it came down to it, all the relationship was a ring on your finger. You wouldn’t be surprised if he was having his own affair; you wouldn’t blame him.

When Matthew texted you saying he had to meet you immediately, you quickly brushed out an excuse, saying you were going for a run or maybe to the gym, and rushed into your car to get to Matthew’s. Your heart was racing as you thought about why he urgently needed to speak to you. Hopefully, nothing was the matter.

Once you reached Matthew’s apartment, you let yourself into his building, using the key he gave to you. Whenever you saw someone in movies aggressively push the elevator button, thinking it would arrive faster, you’d roll your eyes. That standard, however, was blown out the window as you kept pressing the elevator button. You had to get to Matthew’s side. It was impossible going the two or three days you don’t see him, but based on the nature of his text, it felt like something was off.

“Hey,” you breathe out by the time Matthew opens the door to his apartment. He roughly pulls you inside, anger fuming in his eyes. “Is everything okay?”

“No, everything’s not okay,” Matthew yells before shooting you an apologetic look when he sees you flinch. “I’m sorry.”

“Can you tell me what’s wrong?” you ask. Without saying anything, Matthew pushes the wedding invitation across his kitchen island in your direction. “Shit,” you mutter under your breath.

You hummed and hawed on sending this invitation to Matthew. Obviously, considering the nature of your feelings for him and the extent of your relationship, you weren’t sure if it was appropriate for him to be there or if he’d want to be there. You weren’t even sure if you wanted him there considering the man who you were marrying is not the man you love. Ultimately, though, you ended up inviting Matthew because your family’s company was a major part of the ownership of the Florida Panthers, and this wedding was more so for business than it was for any union of love.

“Matthew,” you whisper, gingerly holding the wedding invitations.

“Why did you send this to me?” He’s justifiably getting angry again.

“You and I both know I don’t have much control over the guest list,” you pivot. While that’s true, you were given the ability to veto any options you weren’t particularly fond of.

Matthew just glares at you. “Is that so? You mean to tell me that you have no control over what happens at this wedding?”

“I mean, maybe a little bit, but Matthew—”

“Do you really expect me to go to your wedding? Do you expect me to go to your wedding and watch you marry someone else? This prick?”

“No, but—”

“Do you really, truly expect me to go to a wedding and watch you marry someone else when you should be marrying me?”

You have no response to that. You’ve never thought about marrying Matthew only because it was never an option. Whatever you and Matthew was a way for you to escape and feel love. It was a way for you to fall in love and be happy when your life’s constraints didn’t allow for it.

“I knew from the start what being with you meant and what we could and couldn’t do,” Matthew admits. “I knew I’d never be able to tell my parents that I met the person I want to spend the rest of my life with because they’d want to me you and you won’t ever be able to meet them. I knew I’d never be able to bring a date home to my siblings’ weddings because you and I can’t be together romantically outside of these walls. I knew I’d never truly get all of what I’ve ever wanted for my future because of the nature of us and your life. I knew all this, and I never asked for anything I knew you couldn’t give me. I’ve given up so much to be with you—and I know you have to—but did you really think I could give up so, so much of my happiness and watch you marry someone else?”

“I don’t know,” you whisper. His words are a spear through your heart.

“We’ve never talked about what happens when you’re officially married. Was this going to continue after you got married and had kids with this guy, or are we over the minute you get onto your parents’ private plane and leave for your honeymoon?”

“I don’t know,” you repeat. You started this relationship with Matthew because he made you feel so great and so happy and so loved. It completed your life. Now, though, it was just about to shatter to pieces.

“Was there ever the option that you and I were going to be together outside of the shadows?” he asks, a deep vulnerability in his tone. “I used to pretend that maybe you’d be able to fight back and it’d be you and me, but I have to know, did you ever think about that, too?”

“I thought about it, but it was never going to be an option,” you admit. “I thought about it when I’d fall asleep next to Theodore.”

“Don’t say his name,” Matthew spits out.

“I thought about it all the time, but I knew it’d never happen, and I’m sorry about that.”

“I think you should leave,” Matthew finally says, wiping away tears.

“Matthew—”

“This was bound to end eventually, so I guess it’s now or never, right?”

While you couldn’t expect Matthew to love you in secret for the rest of your lives, you still wanted to ask. You couldn’t justifiably ask Matthew to sacrifice everything he’s ever wanted just so you could have moments of happiness, but you still wanted to. You still wanted to try even though somewhere down the line it wouldn’t work out. Someone would end up with their hearts being shattered to pieces.

“Thank you for making these past years of my life some of my best years,” you say, walking to the door. “I wouldn’t have gotten through it without you.”

Matthew watches the door close and doesn’t say anything. He just watched the love of his life walk out the door and out of his life, and he didn’t even bother to fight. He didn’t have it in himself to fight for you because as much as he wants to be with you for the rest of his life, he can’t take the secrecy of it anymore. He wants to shout from the rooftops how much he loves you. He wants to take you back to St. Louis; he wants you to meet his family, and he wants you to sit on the couch with his sister and brother and mom and look through the old baby albums that will embarrass him, but it won’t matter because it’s you. He wants to kiss you after a successful win, and he wants to land in your arms after a tough loss. He wants to buy a home in the suburbs with you and argue over which car should be parked in the garage. He wants everything with you, and the way he’s had you isn’t enough anymore. Matthew thought it’d be enough because he’d have you, but it’s not enough anymore.

His love for you isn’t enough to keep him staying.

And that's the thing about illicit affairs And clandestine meetings and stolen stares They show their truth one single time But they lie, and they lie, and they lie A million little times

He ended up RSVPing to the wedding. He knew he shouldn’t have said yes to going, but he knew he had to. Matthew knew (after talking to his mom) that he had to go. As much as he wanted to be the one standing at the head of the aisle as you walked down the aisle in a white dress, Matthew knows that will never happen. If he gets to see you in a white dress at least once in his life, then he’ll be content.

By the time Matthew got to the venue, the majority of the seats were taken, so he had to sit in an aisle seat. He, preferably, wanted to snag a seat somewhere in the middle back where you’d completely miss him. He didn’t want to ruin this day for you. Even though he knows you don’t want to marry Theodore (he fucking hates that name now), you still want the magic that a beautiful wedding will have. It’s supposed to be one of the happiest days of your life, and while it might be the complete opposite, seeing your illicit lover in the crowd isn’t going to be what ruins the day for you.

When the Bridal March starts echoing through the venue, everyone gets to their feet and turns to face the aisle where you’re walking down the aisle. You’re on your own. You’re not being “given away” and you’re not being “offered” like this arranged marriage is signifying. Matthew can’t help but smile at the sentiment you walking down the aisle on your own represents.

He also can’t help smiling at how beautiful you look in your dress. In all his fantasies of you and him getting married, this was the type of dress he always imagined you wearing. As much as he wants to pretend that you picked it for him, he refrains from that thought. He also chooses to ignore the pain swimming through his veins as he realizes this will be the last time he’ll ever see you.

He’s watching you intently, and you haven’t noticed him. Your eyes go from the people sitting in the crowd to Theodore. As if sensing Matthew’s intense look, your eyes quickly scan set on his. Your smile immediately widens. For the first part of the aisle, before you saw Matthew, you were wearing your “delicate, socialite” smile that will look appealing in photos. When you see Matthew, however, your smile widens, and Matthew knows it’s a smile reserved for him only.

Based on the surprise on your face, you must not have known that Matthew said yes to attending. If that was the last surprise that Matthew ever gave you, then it was one damn good surprise.

Your eyes never leave his as you continue up the altar.

“I’m yours forever,” Matthew mouths to you, and based on how quickly your chest starts moving after he says it, Matthew knows you understood it clearly. That was a much better goodbye than six months ago at his apartment.

Your eyes only leave Matthew’s once you pass him and continue making your way up to Theodore. The next ten minutes fly by as Matthew plans his escape. He won’t be going to the reception. That would hurt way too much. It would hurt watching you have the first dance with Theodore when you should be dancing with Matthew. It would hurt watching you and Theodore kiss every time the guests clinked their glasses, and it would hurt watching you and Theodore get into the limo knowing that you’d be spending the rest of your life with Theodore.

The officiant is asking for the rings to be brought up when the door to the ballroom is kicked open.

“Everybody, freeze,” someone yells. When Matthew turns back, he can see the yellow FBI written across his jacket. The FBI team rushes up the aisle to Theodore with a few breaking formations to head to a few of Theodore’s buddies and groomsmen.

“Theodore Carmichael,” the head honcho begins. “You’re under arrest for fraud and insider trading. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you. You have the right to a lawyer. If you can’t afford one, then it will be appointed to you.”

After Theodore is rushed out of the ballroom, many important people at Theodore’s parents’ company and your parents’ company are arrested and ushered out of the ballroom. Everyone who isn’t arrested is standing in place, shocked. When you drop the ring that was supposed to go to Theodore, Matthew hears it hit the marble floor from where he’s standing, and that’s when everything comes to him. He instantly runs up the aisle to you. He rapidly blinks at you to make sure you’re okay.

“I had no idea,” you instantly blurt out, staring straight ahead in shock. “I mean, those are some people who I thought were good people, but then the FBI just arrested them, so now I have no idea about anything.”

“Hey, look at me,” Matthew says, tipping your chin with his thumb to glance at him. “If you don’t know anything, then you should know one thing. You’ll always have me.”

“My father just got arrested,” you whisper, your eyes staring deep into Matthew’s.

“Then my father can be your surrogate father,” Matthew instantly says. “I know he’ll love to be one.”

“Matthew—”

“Let’s go, sweetheart,” your mother interrupts, pulling at your wrist.

“I don’t think so,” Matthew says and pulls you away from the arch and out of the ballroom.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were going to be here?” you ask when you’re finally sitting in Matthew’s car.

“You look so beautiful,” Matthew responds, ignoring your question.

“Matthew,” you say, sternly. That voice could him to do anything you asked.

“I wanted us to have a better ending than the one in my apartment,” Matthew admits.

“Matthew,” you respond, your voice softening.

“Don’t, okay? It doesn’t matter. I’m glad I was here, okay? I’ll always be here whenever you need me, okay?”

You nod. “I don’t even know what I’m supposed to do now. All I know is that I love you so much.”

Matthew’s heart lurches and warms. “All I know is that I love you so much, too, and we’ll figure it out together, okay?”

“Okay,” you reply, and Matthew starts the car. He exits the parking garage.

If someone were to tell you that you drove out of the parking garage on your wedding day in Matthew’s car instead of Theodore’s, you’d ask if the zombie apocalypse was planned to start once you left for your honeymoon. Now, though, that it’s a reality, you know that it’s only the ending you’d ever want.

And you wanna scream Don't call me "kid" Don't call me "baby" Look at this godforsaken mess that you made me You showed me colors You know I can't see with anyone else

Epilogue

Let's start with Theodore and your father and everyone else who got arrested. After a way too long trial where the investigators laid out all of the convincing evidence, Theodore and everyone else was each sentenced to 22 years in prison. They all wanted a plea deal, but the state's attorney opted against it and went for a trial-by-jury, and the jury declared them guilty (the State's Attorney was up for reelection and knew a jury trial would boost his ratings).

Your mother wanted you to take over the reins of the company, but you said no. You didn't want anything to do with it, but you also know it would lead to your mother trying to control your life more.

After the trial ended, you stopped speaking to your mother and everyone else in your life at the time.

You moved in with Matthew two hours after the failed wedding. The FBI was already cataloging everything in your apartment, so you went to his apartment and just never left.

Matthew and you fell back in love with each other. In public, this time. You didn't have to hide how much you loved each other, and you were able to hold his hand instead of just brushing his fingers. Everything fell into place, and it all made sense.

Keith very easily said yes to being your surrogate father, and the rest of Matthew's family didn't seem to mind the baggage your life came with, and they didn't seem to mind the extent of your relationship before.

Matthew proposed to you two years after the FBI raided your first wedding. A year later, you and Matthew got married in the Tkachuks' backyard with a small ceremony and reception filled with a few close friends and family. It was the wedding you've always imagined having.

The following fall, you and Matthew bought a house in the suburbs with a two-car garage, so you and Matthew argued over whose car would be parked closest to the door (Matthew never really put up a fight, though).

It was a life that you've always wanted to have, and while it took jumping through many hoops to have it, it was worth it. Matthew changed you in ways unimaginable, and it was unexplainable how excited you were for the rest of your life with him.

And you know damn well For you, I would ruin myself A million little times

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herrlindemann · 2 years

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ROCK HARD - June 2004 - Interview with Paul Landers

Germany's currently most successful rock band was completely submerged for a year. Although the DVD 'Lichtspielhaus' was released recently, the actual concentration of the six Rammstein musicians is solely on the next studio album. Guitarist Paul Landers exclusively answered our questions shortly after Easter and revealed everything worth knowing about the upcoming record, about interpersonal problems within the band, about the relationship with Wladimir Klitschko and about the attempt to lyrically process a cannibal.

Paul, where are you right now?

At home in Berlin. Shortly before Easter we flew from Stockholm, where we are recording our new record, to Germany. Our producer and our mixer have families and children. That's why they just wanted to switch off over Easter.

Is this break in your interest, or did it burst into a creative phase?

Since we are also family people, we didn't find it bad at all. Olli likes to surf and tries to spend every free minute at the sea to quickly jump on a board. He spent Easter on the Baltic Sea, and now we're practically on our way to Stockholm again.

Before we get to Stockholm and the new record, I'd like to talk to you about the past.

Yes, so the band name comes from...(laughs)

Have you been listening to your previous albums, especially 'Mutter’, lately?

Yes. Recently, when we were in the middle of pre-production, I bought an mp3 player and put our albums on it. Then I walked around town all day and listened to all the songs we had.

Did you ever notice that at the time of your debut, 'Herzeleid’, everyone was philosophizing about the incredible guitar sound, but the true sound wonder 'Mutter’ was almost taken for granted?

I don't know now which is better and worse. At least the fact is that 'Herzeleid' sounds rawer. 'Mutter’, on the other hand, sounds smoother, more produced. However, 'Herzeleid' was then in a more extreme position than 'Mutter’ years later. Don't forget when the albums came out. 'Mutter' came out at a time (2001) when many other guitar bands were making records that sounded as good or better than our songs. That's why 'Mutter’ didn't go down in history as a milestone. In hindsight, I find 'Herzeleid' rather cute and today I don't think: Wow, what a sound!

Your producer was Jacob Hellner from the start. To exaggerate: when he hears his work on 'Mutter’, he should almost be ashamed of 'Herzeleid'.

He learned as much as we did and at the time did the best work he was capable of. Both he and we went to our limit at the time. When I see an old photo of myself, I feel ashamed of the clothes I wore back then. Then I think: man, what were you wearing back then? It becomes difficult when I already know now that I think it's very good and that in three years' time I'll also be ashamed. It's always like that.

And is it the same with your sound?

Exactly. At first you think in awe: Mannomann! That's what the Beatles used to think after hearing their four-track recordings. According to the motto: Now the bass drum really has steam (laughs)! And that's exactly how it is with us. When we hear our new songs today, we are totally blown away by the sound and think: Awesome! But in ten years the record will be in the oldie department.

It is said that with 'Mutter’ you couldn't repeat your previous success in the USA and instead had to start from scratch.

Not from the start. But we had a huge success with our second record 'Sehnsucht' and with the single 'Du hast'. That single did fantastic in the States and we had way more success than we could ever have imagined. We took this success for granted and thought: Alright, America is at our feet! Later we were surprised that 'Mutter’ wasn't doing so well.

At first we thought we had to play over there more often. So that's what we did. However, there was also the fact that a certain person, who had looked after us fantastically up until then, left our American record company. This person was infected by us and that is exactly why it is so valuable to us. And England showed that things can be done differently: 'Mutter’ was our most successful record there. All in all, it was certainly helpful for us to experience that things can go not only uphill, but also downhill. However, we were able to cope well with the decline in America because things were going very well in Europe.

Isn't it the case for rock bands in the USA: out of sight, out of mind?

No, because the closer Rammstein fan community isn't there like before. We are established in Europe. In the States, on the other hand, we are still considered exotic, a kind of insider tip with a certain, solid basis. And that base is about 2,000 people per concert. And the people who go beyond that base belong to the "out of sight, out of mind" category.

What were you doing at half past four in the morning on Easter Sunday?

Wait a minute, I can tell you exactly that: I just dreamed of a camel.

So you weren't sitting in front of the telly watching heavyweight boxing?

Klitschko? No, I have not.

I'm asking because your hit 'Sonne' was originally intended as a marching anthem for Wladimir Klitschko.

Yes, but the song was too hard for him.

Was the song really too hard, or do Klitschko think that Rammstein is an evil band?

Does that mean that Klitschko is too nice? Maybe (laughs). We thought it up really well: The whole arena counts — one, two, three, up to ten, and then "Out!”. Exactly at "Out!” Klitschko comes into the arena and goes to the ring. The moment he raises his arms in the ring, the chorus sounds: "Here comes the sun! “ That was the plan.

Anyway, the idea was great.

Yes, the idea was good. He should have done that, then maybe he wouldn't have suffered defeats. As for his last fight, I think someone put something in his water.

Maybe it was just fear that paralyzed him.

No, he was obviously in shape.

Or it was fear of one's own courage.

He may not have any courage to be afraid of. Ah, I don't know. Maybe someone who finds Rammstein too hard is too soft for boxing. He's too weak.

Was 'Sonne’ created specifically because of Klitschko?

Yes, if there hadn't been this request back then, the song wouldn't have existed like this. When the request came, Till sat down and described the topic of boxing in words so that it didn't seem so flat. And then the song came into being in the rehearsal room.

What if there was a request from hockey, football or wrestling?

Oh no, we like the Klitschkos. I also think that the two brothers still have their careers ahead of them.

In any case, one of your best songs ever remained from the failed story.

And that's why it didn't matter that things didn't work out with Klitschko. The song was good. In any case, we thought: You can't force someone to be happy. If someone really wants to march in to Tina Turner's 'You're Simply The Best', they can. It's a nice song too (chuckles).

And then there was a video clip with the big Snow White and you as six little dwarfs.

Yes, we generally try not to translate a video clip as a one-to-one text translation. In addition to the text, the viewer should be offered images that create another level that he would never reach without images.

Does the example 'Sonne' show that you are not fixed in terms of content and that you cannot be grasped, or does it show that the Rammstein brand is primarily about imagination?

It shows that we're pretty great. Before Snow White, we had the idea that there would be six of us on the plane that dropped the atomic bomb on Hiroshima.

You're not serious.

Yes! First comes the refrain - "Here comes the sun" - then the bomb goes off. However, we would have shown it as it really was. The pilots who sat in the atomic bomb planes are already dead. They took their own lives after being shattered by what they had done.

Immediately after the drop, one of the pilots yelled: "Oh, my God! What have I done?”

Exactly. The pilots had forfeited their lives. Anyway, we wanted to show how six people can do something like that.

Not a single music station would have broadcast this clip, especially not in the USA.

You shouldn't think like that. You have to think that you want to make a good video. Whether it will then be sent is the second question. However, that was one of many ideas that we ultimately scrapped. We now also calculate whether the masses could misunderstand us and our concerns. I can tell from your reaction that people wouldn't have understood us. At least I would have liked it if the atomic bomb had gone off in contrast to the beautiful chorus. Nobody could have resisted a corresponding feeling.

Certainly not. But the general public would completely misunderstand you. They would be outraged.

That's what everyone thinks. And that's why it's bullshit.

But what would have happened if it had worked out with Klitschko? Do you have an idea up your sleeve for this case?

Nope I don't know what would have happened then. Maybe then we would have done something together with Klitschko. But that would have been a shame, because we really enjoyed the Snow White story. The video shoot lasted two days. If we didn't feel like driving home from Babelsberg, we immediately slept in the little dwarf house. A friend of ours drove to the gas station and got a box with various drinks. After that we got locked in the studio and had a real dwarf party in the dwarf house. In the making-of part of the 'Lichtspielhaus' - DVD there is a place where Flake looks a bit disorganized and has some difficulties.

'Mutter’ was created to a large extent in a little house on the Baltic Sea...

The songs come from different places. But then we usually go to a place to record them as pre-production. As if summarizing all the notes. The last time the pre-production took place in Heiligendamm on the Baltic Sea.

The Baltic Sea seems to be very important to you, because some of you used to spend the summer time on the island of Hiddensee with your band Feeling B during the GDR era.

We still do. There are only two ways to go: Either you go to the mountains or to the sea.

Did you get to know each other better than ever in the little house in Heiligendamm - that is, in a small space?

No. The best way to get to know each other is on tour, because it doesn't get any closer than that. It's a bit like in the submarine. Every now and then you turn up and play a concert (laughs).

How did your new album come about? How can we imagine your new record without hearing a sound?

In contrast to our previous three albums, the new record was written in a different constellation. The ones who used to bring in a lot of ideas have stepped back this time, and those who used to have few song ideas are much more represented this time.

Who belongs to which group?

That is not important. It is important that the new album has a different tone color for the reason mentioned. And: In contrast to the last record, we had a lot of fun this time. The knot has broken. Also, due to time constraints for songwriting and pre-production, we didn't leave this time, but stayed in Berlin.

Does your statement mean that you had little fun working on 'Mutter'?

Yeah, 'Mutter’ really wasn't that much fun. The famous third album, as the saying goes. There were also personal reasons. After eight or nine years, the balance of power had shifted within the band. It actually happens in every band that Ritchie Blackmore quits because he can't go on with Jon Lord anymore. For years their friction was refreshing for the listeners, but at some point it gets on everyone involved so much that one has to drop out.

But nobody left Rammstein.

No, not that. But we also had gossip and stress between two people because of competence difficulties as well as over- and underestimation. We had to reorient ourselves. It also cracked. But — I knock on wood! — we got through it well, so we could work on the fourth album with fun.

You certainly don't want to mention the names of the two.

Correct. It can happen to anyone, because everyone is unreasonable from time to time.

Back to the richness of tone again: Can you speak of any major differences to 'Mutter’?

We tried to embed the vocals even more into the music. Or to put it another way: the music is more than ever a ring in which the singing comes into its own. Like ten white tigers. A platform, an aircraft carrier for the words (chuckles).

Very lyrically put...

Yes, I try to find the best words. In any case, the planes have to be able to take off nicely (laughs). Also, there are fewer riffs on the record because the guitars are kinda different.

More like a guitar rug?

I do not know it either. Somehow different. But there are people who have listened to it. In any case, for me the album is already different from 'Mutter’, and for the attentive Rammstein fan it certainly is too. Maybe not for my grandma, but every AC/DC song sounds the same to her. So do we: for some it will sound different, for others the new record is exactly the same. And both parties are probably right.

As someone who still appreciates your performance on 'Mutter’, I would like to say quite heretically: the new record can only be a disappointment. It's almost impossible to top 'Mutter’ or at least match it with an equal successor.

But I'm not making a record to top the last one. I always try to make a good album. Now that may sound boring. But your girlfriend won't break up with you either because you have a better...Okay, maybe that's a bad example (laughs).

You can really only find one girlfriend, any one. If you're lucky, it's a good one, and if you're unlucky, she looks pretty but she's daft. A woman can be pretty and everyone thinks, man, why doesn't he stay with her? But her character is completely insane. An album can also sound good, but it must also be fun to write this album. It has often been my experience that people who are less successful work very hard and without fun to be successful. And that, in contrast, people who tend to languish are mostly in good spirits. I have also met people who are very successful and who are totally relaxed.

What can I say: Metallica also continued after their black album. You don't write a good album so that you can't make another one afterwards. Rather, you try to make a good album every time. Or to put it diplomatically: another album, a further development.

Single song titles and various album titles are already floating around. Which titles actually exist?

First the record was going to be be called 'Amore', then 'Rosenrot', and finally we got to 'Rot'. At the moment it has no name at all and we call it 'The Red Album' in everyday parlance. We used to always choose the title after one of the songs, but that doesn't come out on this record. For example, a song is called 'Stein um Stein'. That somehow doesn't fit as an album title. So we're still looking. Another piece is called 'Rosenrot'.

Which is definitely about a woman...

It's about women always wanting something. And the man does it even though he knows it's not good — not good for either of them. But he does it anyway, and in the end he dies. What else can I tell you? A song about Moscow is included. And one about America.

Because you've been to both Russia and the US?

Not necessarily. One song is specifically about the city of Moscow. The America song is about our current relationship with America and the current situation. Lots of people bitch about America, opinion has swung against America a lot lately — because of that country's impeccable foreign policy (chuckles).

On the other hand, I looked in my closet. There were four jackets from America hanging in there. If you complain that the Americans get involved everywhere and are everywhere, then you should start with yourself. It's true that America is everywhere. But in many cases it can only be there because it is wanted. They don't force you to go to Burger King or put on Levi's. In this respect, it is about the positive and the negative in one whole.

A topic that would have been unthinkable at Rammstein five years ago.

Yes, but the America song in particular came to mind, because when we started work on the record, the Iraq war was on. You couldn't avoid that. We weren't looking for such a song theme, rather it was over-present.

By the way: Another innovation is that a little Russian and a little English is sung on the record. Possibly also French, but we don't know that yet. The album isn't designed to be international, but it's not one hundred percent German.

Russian isn't that far off.

Well, everything and nothing is far-fetched.

In any case, Russian fits very well with Till's form of expression.

We weren't specifically looking for that. It just turned out that way.

Richard Kruspe-Bernstein, your fellow guitarist, once said in an earlier interview that you want to make pop music with heavy riffs. Pop music also means that you reach a wide audience. At what point can one say in the case of Rammstein that you've reached a large audience, and at what point would an album be a flop in your eyes?

You have reached a broad mass when you look into the audience and there are men with mustaches standing there.

Everyone has a different definition of when an album is a flop. Personally, I don't go so much by sales numbers. Michael Jackson has sold about 40 billion or 40 million copies of 'Thriller' (laughs). The record after it only managed eight million and was a flop in his eyes and in the eyes of the media.

Eight million! That would be an absolute rocket for us. In this respect, it is a matter of opinion what a flop is.

Let's get back to the DVD 'Lichtspielhaus'. I find both the bank robbery clip and the making-of of 'Ich will’ impressive. This clip required tremendous acting. Did you have to practice for it, or did you develop a certain momentum during the shooting because you realized that the clip could be a real hit?

So if boys are allowed to play shooting, they don't need extra training for it. No, that was easy for us, especially since each of us has criminal tendencies. But it was also hard at times: after this shoot I wouldn't want to rob a bank because this special task force KSK — or SEK or something like that — is really tough. Richard told them not to go easy on it, just make it look real. The guys slapped us so brutally on the floor that my nose bled the first time I turned. You can't see that in the clip.

Unfortunately, the video didn't run very long on TV because it came at a time when two planes crashed into the World Trade Center. So people weren't too keen on a video clip of bank robbers taking hostages. Osama was first and we couldn't top that.

How big was the effort for this clip?

One day of shooting in and around the GDR State Council building.

How much does something like that cost?

You're asking the wrong person. In any case, our manager had negotiated a good video budget with the record company. Normally a band gets around 30,000 euros there. We had maybe 300,000 euros. I don't know, but I'm guessing. We were just lucky, because at that time the treaties from peacetime still existed before the whole dilemma began with the majors.

Your bass player Olli says in the making-of that your self-confidence when it comes to your own songs is washed. Does that mean that you weren't particularly comfortable with your early songs, with which you had incredible success?

No, we were just six naïve East Germans who were let loose on trained journalists. And we've awkwardly tried to resist things we shouldn't have resisted. When I read or listen to our old interviews, I always feel a bit ashamed. On the one hand we had no idea and on the other hand we always meant the best. But actually, from today's perspective, it's just embarrassing.

If people accused me of being right-wing radicals today, I would just giggle. In the past, I would have launched a lengthy defense speech. Kind of like: "But we... There and there..."

At that time, after all these accusations, we only started to think about who we are, what we have done and where we wanted to go. In the beginning we just started without thinking about what we are doing.

The piece 'Ich will’ is to be seen as a homage to being a rock star.

Exactly.

Other bands behave in an awkward manner on stage, annoy with percussion solos and animate with “Heyheyhey!” - and “Ohohoh!” - Call the audience to participate. You've exacerbated the whole thing by making fun of it.

The song is typical for us, because it's meant to be ironic, but then again it's not. Of course we're making fun of bands that start these join-in choirs. But we use it ourselves. We're also happy when people stand down and raise their arms and sing along. When we played 'Seemann' for the first time, we were terribly embarrassed that lighters were waved in the audience. It's okay now because it's part of it.

But there are different ways of animation. You can stand at the edge of the stage like Robbie Williams or Fred Durst and put your hand to your ear, which I find totally disgusting. I find sayings like: “Oh, this city here, Berlin. I love you, it's insane. It's the best concert of the whole tour." This is disgusting gluttony. But either people don't notice it or they don't see it as a prank. In this respect, these musicians should continue to do so.

You, on the other hand, generally don't talk on stage.

The man from the 'Tagesschau' doesn't say anything between the news either. He just presents the facts. It must be enough.

So Rammstein live means: facts, facts, facts.

(Laughs) We let the flames speak for us and don't have to say anything about it. There are many bands that don't talk. And there are bands that I find it cute when they talk a lot. For example Die Ärzte. I think the announcements are better than the music. When Farin talks, I'm happy.

What influence do daily events around the world and looking at the newspaper in the morning have on your ideas for songs and lyrics?

There are influences. For example, we're considering putting a piece about Armin Meiwes, the cannibal from Rotenburg, on our album.

Meiwes was convicted of eating another man...

What do you say: would you have judged him?

Morally, ha. I don't know whether he can be legally convicted.

Morally? Not that. He is legally to be condemned.

If you asked me to cook and eat you...

I would not do that.

But what if. And suppose I actually ate you. Then I would be a creature who should also be condemned from a moral point of view...

You cook your soup chicken too, and it didn't even ask you to. I find it a bit cheeky: When two people make up, one person asks, "Will you marry me?”, and the other one says “Yes, okay!”, because as a third party you don't interfere in their affairs. That's what the two actors in the cannibal story wanted. And if they were fine doing it, I see no reason to get involved.

That's what the stuff movies are made of.

If we did a music video about it, we could take parts from the original video that was shown in court.

But back to the topic: We can't imagine in our imagination that there are people who think it's good when they're peed on. Or that men who work in managerial positions find it good to be humiliated and whipped in a brothel. But there's all that, and there's a lot more, a lot more crass stuff. And when one of the crass things comes to light, everyone is suddenly surprised. Although such things always and everywhere exist.

And what if a cannibal goes unpunished, finds the next victim, kills and eats them against their will - but claims it was consensual?

He can have this confirmed in writing beforehand, quasi by a notary. Like euthanasia, which I support, by the way. I also think it's crazy that you have to buckle up in the car. Everyone should decide for themselves whether they want to buckle up or not. In general, I find the prescribing of security stupid. Everyone should do what they want. I don't mean speed limits in dangerous places. If someone is so stupid and thunders around the corner too fast, they should be punished for it. But if he doesn't want to buckle up, he's supposed to have the right to die on the tree.

Or traffic lights on the street: I have never signed anywhere in my life with which I agreed that I could go green and have to stop at red. I think it's cheeky that I have to stick to these rules. There used to be a forest here through which you could walk freely. Today there is a street with a traffic light. Actually, every citizen should take an oath at the beginning of his life: "I am willing to submit to myself here.” Instead, you are born and you are told: “Well, now join in here! Go join the army and get yourself shot for us! Pay taxes and stop at red”.

Were you in the army?

No, I didn't have time for that. But I pay quite a lot of taxes. If I get two apples from my record company, I have to give one apple back immediately.

#Rammstein #Paul Landers #2004 #interview #translation #*

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kalitheinksimp · 7 months

Text

It. Is. Time.

Sooooo, first of all,

HAPPY VALENTINE'S!!!!

It is indeed very special day for me and i have been very busy today(despite not having a real s/o but that does not matter in the least-)

Since i haven't actually posted about this on this blog, i was planning on doing so ever since i made my blog (but wanted to wait till it was actually the day so i could put my latest update); about how i spend my valentines day!

The routine goes like this:

- the day before, i get two bars of chocolate (white chocolate, cause i love it-)

- the day arrives, and i spend it thinking up ideas on what to draw (sometimes if I get the idea early, i start sketching)

- (around evening/ night) i get my ✨Special Ink portrait✨™ and set it somewhere (this i didn't have to do when I had my doodlesphere area with Ink shrine..)

- put one of the chocolate bars in front of the portrait as an offering and eat the other as I do the next step, pretending that we exchanged chocolate

- time to draw! Drawing while in company of Ink makes everything better~

- while drawing, sing and/or listen to songs of choise (i have a few songs specifically that i connect with ink that are a must play- and another important one is dreamin chuchu!!!)

- when done, write the year in which it's made behind the thing, so I can keep track of them

- fold the paper of the drawing gently, and put it inside a hatch of ✨Special Ink portrait✨™

- (optional) read Ink x reader fics at night ♡

That's how each of my valentines has been going for 5 years. I have never felt like I was missing out on something or lonely on any of them. I spent each of them with Ink, and i wouldn't have it any other way.

Now, I will show you the arts i have made throughout the years on this very day!! (Prepare your eyeballs for some really old art)

These are all of them folded (+ the most recent)

This, first one, was made in 2020

In 2021 (how the HELL did I forgot his black stain!??!!)-

2022-

2023-

Now, the one I made today!!-

That's some improvement huh-

who knows what will be made next year? I'm excited to find out though! These are like a break day from everything that might be going on irl and super fun! Tbh, it feels like a creativity boost too-

Oh! One last thing; i also painted my nails for today as well!! (Yes, that pink i made myself by mixing others i have-)

Anyways! That's all i wanted to put out!

Thank you for your time, and again, happy valentine!!! ♡

#ink sans #ink sans x oc #kalink #kaligraphy #self ship #self shipping #valentines day

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dowhatisaynotwhatido · 2 years

Text

3. LA - Good morning... LIZZIE?!

Paring: bottom!Elizabeth Olsen x topMommy!Reader

Description: Your casual extended for a bit and you decided so explain, graphically, some of her previous doubts.

Warnings: smut, teasing, strap and cockwarming (lizzie receiving), mommy kink, slut naming.

This is part of a series, initially meant to have 3 chapters, considering extending to a 5 part - don't know.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 (this) | Part 4

Credits: This series directly cites the blog and works of themidnightcrimson blog

To my dear friend ohsugar-honey-iced-tea for the brainstorming and inspirational talks.

Word counter: 1.8k

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The next day you woke up a little sore, your mind still confused as the events from last night crawled slowly back to you. Yes, that was right. You spent the night with Elizabeth Olsen and, by the way a cold silky sheet spread over your naked body, you were waking up in her apartment.

You took a few deep breaths to steady the increasing anxiety of the famous "next morning" to an amazing casual sex. It wasn't your first time doing it, but it certainly was different considering this was Lizzie.

You could sense your body tensing at thinking about how to proceed - should you joke? Be shy? Be sexy? Pretend to never wake up? Wait for her to go to the bathroom and slip away?

While your thoughts rambled on and on creating impossible situations, you heard Lizzie talking far away.

"Thank you, Allan. You are so sweet to bring it all the way here" Her voice was a delight, just as you remembered. Still rasp from the late morning but yet cheerful, you couldn't stop the smile crossing your face. You couldn't hear "Alan's" response- whoever he was, but you heard her closing the door and walking away. You decided to wake up and hit the bathroom to freshen up before she saw with in all your "after sex/sleep" glory - of course she probably looks perfect right now while you probably look like a squirrel after a fight.

“Someone is chipper today" You smirked leaning over the kitchen island.

The sight of Lizzie happily humming some pop song while sipping at her coffee and reading through a script was enough to send all your anxiety away. Her hair was up in a messy bun, while she wore your loose shirt and nothing else.

"I have no idea what you are talking about" She smiled looking at you "You look hungry"

"I am" you winked suggestively as she laughed at the joke

"You are beyond saving, aren't you?" She kept her smile while leaving her script to pour you some coffee "Did you sleep well?"

"I did wake up a little sore. Your mattress is too comfortable, I am not use to it" You smiled.

"Uhum. I am sure that is why you are sore" She placed a yogurt bowl in front of you

"Ew, healthy. Where are the waffles?" You mocked and she laughed it off "Shut up"

You spent the next hour talking amicably on a light mood. It was comfortable to be around Lizzie, she was an easy going person, with easy laugh and smile. You talked until your phone went off with a call from the airline company offering a flight back to Boston later that same day. You didn't want to assume she would like your company for a few more days, but you looked once at Lizzie washing the dishes and decided to postpone your trip back a few days - your work was only expecting you next week, anyway.

After breakfast you planned to head towards your fancy hotel to check-out and find a cheaper one to spend the next days.

"Would you like to grab a coffee later today?" You asked her while changing.

That is the thing with casual: it is casual until it isn't, right? And you didn't know how Lizzie felt about it. Does she secretly want you to leave as fast as you can? Does she want you to stay?

"Where are you going? I thought your flight was postponed" She asked looking over her script while lying in bed "I was… Well… Forget it" She blushed

"You were… What?" You stood in front of her on your jeans and bra, not wanting to ask her for your shirt back.

"Nothing" She lowered her gaze to the text in front of her.

You went to her and sat at her side raising her gaze to yours

"What?" You asked again

"I just assumed you would stay for lunch, that is all." She said dismissively

"I would like that. But I do need to fix my hotel situation and... Well... Get some supplies" You grinned.

Since yesterday you were dying to use your strap on her, but it was all the way over Boston. So you planned to go shopping fervently hoping you would have the chance to use it.

"You could stay here..." She blushed "Well, erh. I do have a spare bedroom and... Well, is kind of lonely… And..." She started to ramble

"Ok" You interrupted

"Ok?"

"Ok." You smiled and leant forward to give her a kiss and steady her anxiety.

Although your time together today had been lovely, you haven't quite touched each other. You have been waiting for an opening, and unknowingly to you, so has she. So when your lips met, she eagerly took your mouth. The kiss was as soft and sweet as you remembered. Her taste would never leave your mind and it forced into you a sense of belonging that you so bad kept away for years.

" Buuut, I still need to go do some stuff." You broke the kiss before your thoughts took the best of you.

" I could come with..." She suggested taking out your shirt and handling it back to you.

" Uhm?" You asked losing the track of how to speak as you took your blouse and stared at a very naked Lizzie getting to her closet to change "I do think the paparazzi would have a field trip with you walking into a sex shop with a total stranger..." You smiled at her surprise face

" Oh... “She laughed and hid her face behind her hands.

" You don't really think I will take the spare bedroom, right?" You raised a brow with a silly grin.

" Well, I hoped you wouldn't..." she chuckled "That doesn't explain the sex shop" she asked curiously.

You gestured for her to come back to you "Are you fainting dumb, baby?" You play "Do I need to explain to you what do they sell on those grown-up shops?"

"I know what they sell there..." She blurred yet unaware of the path you were leading

" Tsk tsk, don't talk back to mommy, sweetie. Or I will have to punish you...." You guided her to straddle your lap as she smiled catching up with your meaning.

"No, mommy. I am sorry. Can you explain me?" She sat down on your lap circling your neck with her arms.

"Do you own any toys, sweetie?"

"No, mommy" she nodded.

"Don't you touch your pretty little pussy?"

"I... kind of feel so dirty using toys?" She confessed hiding her face on the crook of your neck

"But you are my dirty little slut, aren't you?" You pushed her hips to pressure against you

"Yes, mommy"

"We are getting you some toys, okay? I will teach you how to use them. Would you like that, baby?"

"You are so good to me, mommy"

"I am taking you with me, but you have to behave for me. Do you understand?"

"Yes, mommy. Thank you, mommy" she smiled innocently

Sometime later both of you were standing in front of a wall filled with dildos of different sizes, colors, width and settings

"You will look so pretty with that one inside you, kitten" You said pointing to a 5 inch black harness

"That is too big!! No way would that fit." She opened her mouth in surprise while reaching for a smaller one

"Are you suggesting that I don't know what is best for you, baby?"

She gulped

"I-I"

Shhhh... You shushed her “I want you to go inside the changing room and wait for me there"

You left towards the cashier without a second glance, certain that she would follow your instructions.

A few minutes after, you joined her and closed both of you in the changing room "Slide down your pants and bend"

"W-What? Why?" She asked with curious eyes staring at the bag you now carried.

You kept staring at her with a hard gaze and unamused expression until she broke and bent with her ass towards you and pants down to her ankles.

"Good girl. Now bite down your hand for me. I don't want to hear a single whimper, ok, sweetie?" You whispered as you put aside her damp panties and introduced slowly the new 4 inch dildo.

She muffled her moans as she felt her walls screaming at the unexpected but welcomed intrusion. You waited for her to get used to it before fixing her panties and buttoning her jeans back on.

"Now, you are going to warm my cock for me, do you understand, baby girl?" You whispered on her ear while pressing her ass against your hip making the dildo go even deeper inside of her.

"Yes, mommy" she said in a breathy voice

"Remember when you asked about it? You can't touch it, grid, clench, press… not even think about it, without my consent, ok, pretty girl?"

"Yes, mommy"

"Come, let's get you home"

The ride back home was longer but certainly more enjoyable. The store Scarlett suggested was 40 minutes away from Elizabeth's place - known by its celebrity’s clients and the respect for their privacy. The highway had a smooth path, although the same couldn't be said about the little access bumpy road you were now.

"Oh my god" Lizzie muffled out after the third bump shoved the dildo almost into her stomach. "Can we... Jeez… Slow down?" She basically whimpers out in a ragged breath

"You can take it, sweetheart" you cooed while again picking on purpose the bumpier path. Even though it was her car, you were the one driving back, giving the lack of coordination you expected from Lizzie on her current state.

The dirt road didn't extend much - unfortunately for you and Lizzie relief, but it was more than enough to get her edged simply by the arrhythmic fucking she had gone through. She was breathing heavily, her hair disheveled and her eyes usually so green were full with her dark pupils.

It wasn't long before you reached town traffic and Lizzie was almost back to comfortable, the cock still holding a steady place on her mind.

You were passing by a nice neighborhood when Lizzie noticed a few paparazzi on the next corner near a green traffic light.

"Can you pass it? There are paparazzi there" Lizzie asked pointing.

" I have a better idea" you smiled mischievously as you slowed the car in order to wait for the light turn red "I want you to grind my cook, baby"

"What? Now?" Lizzie asked looking at the paparazzi that had just noticed your car.

"We don't have much time, kitten. Do it know, or I will have to park."

"But, mommy, the..."

"Don't you want to please me, sweetie? Do it" you said looking sweetly at her "Grind for me"

She started grinding and immediately the warm of her arousal took hold of her hips making her apply more pressure and speed into it. As she had already been edged, by the time you stopped at the red light, her cheek was flustered, her grinding as intense as possible without being noticeable from outside the car and her breathing was ragged. The paparazzi approached the car in the matter of seconds taking photos from you and especially from her.

"Now I want you to roll your window down and give them your sweetest smile, baby" You said pleased at her obeying you.

She held the sweetest grin she could muster being so close to the edge. Your cock filled her and her grinding was getting sloppy because of the wetness pooling on her underwear and jeans.

"Good girl" you said as soon the lights were green "I will get that photo on print and remember that you were fucking yourself on my cock when you took it. You made mommy so happy, kitten"

---

Lizzie was waiting for you sitting restless in bed. She still had your cock inside of her and it was constantly sliding out of her due to how wet she had gotten. So every once in a while she had to put it all the way in, act that came with a sharp pleasure and increased the anticipation to be strap fucked. You told her you would prepare and put the strap on, but you were gone for more than 10 minutes, actually just teasing while she waited for you.

When you got back to the bedroom strap in your hands, she looked absolutely delicious. You made her take out your clothes and set the strap on your hip. Her unsteady hands made the task take the double amount of time, but you were not rushing.

"That is it, baby. Now, I want you on your fours, ass towards me, ok?"

"Yes, mommy" she quickly shredded her own clothes and got in position.

When she had her back to you, you placed the 5inch dildo on the strap and lined it on her back. She was the picture of perfect. Her juices were everywhere, making a mess on her ass and thigh. Her entrance was full with your previous cock, oozing wetness from it. You reached for her clit earning a loud moan. She was sensitive and anticipated you touch.

"Stop teasing me, Y/N" Lizzie rasped out in a commanding voice. You couldn't deny that the authoritative tone did speak directly to your clit.

"So eager, are we?" You teased "Is it feeling weird down here, sweetie?" Your hand reached the cock inside of her, taking it in and out painfully slow.

"Faster, mommy" she bulked again your hand

"How do we say when we want something so very bad, princess?" You cooed

"Please, mommy. I want you to fuck me faster" Lizzie's body was all sensitive, it was the first time she was turned on, edged and teased for an hour, she could barely hold in the anxiety for relief. So when you took the cock completely out of her, she whimpers feeling empty and desperate to be full again.

You aligned your bigger cock to her entrance and you knew she noticed the different size. So you slowly stretched her out until your hip hit her ass. She was clenching around you, mouth open wide with rapid and shallow breath as she got relief from the constant tickling feeling of being teased, evolving on increasing louder moans as you started to move, taking it all out, and hitting hard back in. Your nails were digging on her sides, pushing her against you on each thrust, timing her bulking with your own rhythm.

You fucked her hard and fast, and too soon her bulking started to get sloppy and her legs trembling almost giving up beneath her.

"Come for me."

(Gif not mine, credit to creator)

#lizzie x y/n #elizabeth olsen x you #elizabeth olsen x y/n #elizabeth olsen x female reader #wanda smut #lizzie olsen

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ninjahiccups · 1 year

Text

The Songbird of Asgard

Chapter 6: Fond

AO3 link OC Insert version Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 Word Count: 6.5k Warnings: None, other than it becoming clear that I hc Heimdall as demi okay byyyeeee

-------------------------------------------------------------------------- Blurb: Your next task is to accompany Heimdall to Svartalfheim to have the dwarves repair the relic recovered on your most recent search. You end up working, Heimdall ends up with an internal struggle until it hits him. --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Double posting because this ended up too long again. I'm actually not happy with how these next two chapters came out, buuuuuuutt it's been too long, so I'm moving on lol

Heimdall's legs carried him up the familiar hill, to the place he spent far too much time at now.

You weren't singing yet, your lyre was the only music coming from your spot. You caught sight of him and smiled warmly. He could feel how relieved you were that he chose to stop by after your last conversation, worried that you may have overstepped. Which you did, but Heimdall didn't feel the need to complain.

You closed the notebook in your lap, taking your eyes away from him for just a moment. When they rose once more, you found Heimdall sitting next to you, instead of in his usual seat across the fire pit. You did your best to contain your surprise from him, and to ignore the spark of warmth his proximity brought. It was strange to you; so far Heimdall had avoided you for days after you said or did something that challenged his way of thinking. This was the only time he ever moved on without delay. A part of you hoped that maybe, just maybe, you were starting to ease the stubborn distrust and distaste that kept him at arm's length from everyone. Now if only you could curb that arrogance of his, but that was a completely different hurdle.

"Finished a bit late today, did you?" You asked, switching to a tune he liked. He never said which songs he liked, but you had learned which ones eased his stress after so many visits.

Heimdall scoffed, resting his elbows on his knees. "You can thank Baldur for that. The imbecile hurled himself off the wall to win a bet and I had to scrape his ragged 'corpse' off the ground."

You chuckled, "Yeah, that sounds like him." He had a reputation for doing reckless and insane things for the smallest reasons. It was sad, watching him do terrible things to himself just for the off chance that he would feel something. Whenever you breached the topic with him he shut down and refused to address it. He clearly didn't want to share his thoughts on the matter.

Your companion said nothing as the lyre strings filled the air with calming notes, lulling you both into your own little reverie that no one else could disturb.

Heimdall was doing it again. He was accepting your company.

He didn't care, he decided.

Yes, that was his decision. He didn't sleep for a second the night before, after he dropped you off at home, pondering exactly what he was doing. Finding a "friend," devoting time to them for absolutely no reason other than he felt like it. It was so absurd, yet he kept doing it over and over again, and each time he did it became less absurd. He was coming around to the idea of…just spending time with you.

Was that so bad?

His duties still came first, and that was something he would never forget. That idea was ultimately what convinced him that he should have no quarrel with his wanton choice to indulge himself in your presence. He was the watchman, first and foremost. His purpose was to serve Odin by protecting the realm that rose above all others. Even so, he had some time to himself, and what was the difference between spending it alone and spending it with someone who kept him on his toes? In the end, this was the most productive and enjoyable way to use his free moments.

He could do whatever he wanted, so long as his work came first.

His mind wandered, this time to his earlier emotions rather than his thoughts. A rare act for him.

After you left him alone he paced around atop Gulltoppr for at least a couple hours. Regardless of how much he chastised himself for slipping, for letting himself fall prey to useless relationships that served him no purpose, he was still left with a lingering satisfaction. It was something he hadn't experienced before, at least not because of another person. He had similar feelings when he was reading, looking over Asgard’s plains from the wall, returning home after a day of hard and meaningful work. It wasn't quite the same, though. It was more potent, but just as comforting.

What was that?

"What are you doing?"

Heimdall's question was left unanswered. He returned to the present and glanced at you, keeping his eyes forward. "Does it look like I'm doing anything?"

"No, but you certainly are. The pensive look on your face tells me that." It was merely a fact, said with no taunting or mischief. You really had gotten to know him, hadn't you? Somehow he didn't mind.

"Just thinking," he replied.

"Thinking?" Your hand flies to your mouth in mock surprise. "That can't be, you never do that!" You had to hold in an impish cackle when he sat up straight just to send you his nastiest sneer.

Heimdall boasted, "If I recall correctly there have been plenty of occasions where I've done more thinking than you."

"Not really, you just let the foresight think for you, and that's not the same."

His teeth clenched in annoyance. Odin had said similar things before, so he couldn't in good conscience refute that. "Do you have to be this insufferable?"

A giggle. "I'm just wondering if you might have learned something last night, hmm?"

He wasn't willing to admit that he did. Something that would be invaluable if it weren't so risky. At the sinking feeling in his stomach he found that he just would rather not tell you that your efforts were in vain. "Yes. That you’re the worst," he settled on.

"Oh, come on. You mean you weren't thinking that you should try that more often? To…see beyond your foresight?"

Again, a glare. This one incredulous.

"Okay, yeah. That was a terrible line, but my point still stands."

Heimdall rolled his eyes. You were still so adamant that his foresight was a hindrance. "My foresight sees plenty."

He felt the shift. Subtle, and hidden from the surface, but he picked up on it. Disappointment. You may have presented the subject as a jest but you were really hoping he saw value in "turning off" his foresight when it was overwhelming. "Aaaaaand you missed the point. Even though it was right there." Your hand gestured to the empty fire pit in front of you, plopping back into your lap sluggishly.

Before he could help it he felt the discomfort creeping into his chest. Gods, why did he react so strongly? It was so much that he dropped the confidence just long enough to be sincere for a moment. "I'll use it again if I need it," he replied softly. He hated how weak it sounded, but the flood of appreciation and the loss of your discontent overpowered it quickly.

You smiled, much more at ease. "Good. I'm glad it helped."

Said with care. Genuine, selfless concern for another, even after they hardly showed gratitude for it. It was still mind boggling how foreign it was. Not in a negative way, for once in his life. While that thought was in his mind he felt something else from you. Fondness. For him.

It made him speak without forethought. "Thank you."

Heimdall almost jumped at the choking stutter you spat out, looking like the wind had nearly blown you off the bench. "Excuse me?!"

Heimdall rolled his eyes and sighed, giving no indication that he was just as thrown off. "You can never again call me dramatic after that reaction."

You held back laughter while you babbled back, "I-I have never heard you say that before! I can't even tell if you're serious!"

"I never lie, you know that." Again, said without a thought behind it. Damn his impulsive tongue.

You looked down, smiling brightly to yourself. This was it, you thought. This was what it was all for. These little instances where there was no need for him to look at every detail with such a critical and condescending eye. All it took was kindness that he could never find. It almost felt like an honor to have torn down his barriers enough to make it so. "Wow, Heimdall. Now I'm really starting to think you like me."

He couldn't help but snicker. As foolish as the statement was, it made something stir in him. The same thing he'd been battling since last night.

It was something he'd had enough of for the time being. "So, you're trying to hide things from me now?" He questioned while pointing to your notebook, changing the subject before he could get lost in his head again.

You pursed your lips at the book. "No, I'm just not sure about this song."

"The piece you were playing? I haven't heard that one yet. Was it something you heard and you're not sure if you're good enough to recreate it?

"No, smartass. It's one I wrote."

Heimdall's brows raised. "Another?"

"Yes, I've written a bunch. This one is…" you trailed off, not sure how to describe it. "I don't know, it's just different."

He couldn't help the curiosity after that. "Then put it up to the ultimate test. Let me hear it. If I don't like it then you know it's terrible." Said like a haughty lord who was reluctantly listening to the gripes of peasants.

You scoffed at him. Nonetheless you complied, adjusting your grip on the lyre and bringing out the melody.

You were right, this one was different. Not as serene and quiet, but more mysterious. Something that would fit nicely with getting confused by one's own mind and wondering where their head was going. Even so, it was still a relaxing piece, just more…hypnotizing.

Your voice joined in. The lyrics were the jumbled mess of nonsense they usually were, but still added that extra level of beauty that no other had matched. He refused to say as much, but your knack for making every song you played into something magical was quite impressive, even to him.

The short excerpt stopped. "I don't know, it's not what I usually do. What do you think?"

Heimdall chuckled, so light that you almost missed it. The songs you always played never got old, and now you would have even more at your disposal? He was suddenly giddy, so pleased that you would keep him on the edge of his seat in the most calming way possible. You were truly a gifted musician. "Turning out to be quite the songbird, aren't you?" he mused.

You saw the smile he wore, how soft it was paired with the admiration in his sparkling eyes. It left you incapable of maintaining eye contact. Your music helped him relax, that much you knew. It was seeing proof of just how much he enjoyed it that made you want to pick the lyre back up and sing again, just for him. You desperately needed to see this pleased grin more often. Your eyes returned to his as you muttered, "I like that a lot more than 'stray.'"

He agreed. A much more suitable title for you.

Bird's wings and a squawk sounded, breaking the content isolation. Huginn landed on the bench across the fire pit.

Heimdall shoved the moment aside. Duty called, and it was well established how much more important that was. "Back to work, then."

You stood with him, a bit disappointed that he moved on so quickly, but you couldn't blame him. Neither of you could keep Odin waiting. Holding your lyre and notebook up to the raven, you requested, "Huginn, do you mind helping me drop these off at home before I report to All-Father?"

The bird stared at you for a moment, almost like it was insulted that you asked. It cawed again in half-hearted agreement.

"I'll meet you there," you said to Heimdall.

"You certainly will."

He wasn't sure why he felt compelled to confirm it. Or say anything at all.

Heimdall waited in Odin's study until you made your entrance, stepping up to his desk while Huginn landed on his usual perch. Odin was still looking down at the papers on his desk, ignoring all others for a few more moments. You took a second to glance at Heimdall and gave him a smile, one that he returned eagerly.

An exasperated squawk rang through the study loud enough for Odin to acknowledge the raven. "What, Huginn?" He sighed, sounding every bit like an exhausted parent. Once the bird spoke again the All-Father looked between the two younger gods awaiting his orders, seeming suspicious. He then waved a dismissive hand at his pet. "Later." He didn’t elaborate on exactly what the bird was trying to say, moving on from its offended chirps without a second thought.

"No spelunking or combat today, you two." He retrieved the cracked orb you found in Niflheim from a bookshelf behind him. "I've been experimenting with this piece here and it can definitely be fixed. All it'll take is some materials and bifrost." The old god opened one of the drawers in his desk, pulling out a pebble of silver metal and holding it out to you.

You took it, brow furrowed with bemusement. "It seems like ordinary metal. How is this going to repair it?"

"It's ordinary metal for now. But thanks to my investigating…" A wrinkled finger pressed down onto the ore in your palm, blue and pink light of bifrost seeping out from the point of contact. Both you and Heimdall could feel the magic being transferred from Odin and into the metal, remaining once his hand withdrew. For a moment you practically held a physical manifestation of bifrost between your fingers until the energy escaped and dissipated before your eyes.

"I discovered that certain ores can contain and blend with bifrost if handled correctly. It all depends on the metal, which I'm certain our friends in Svartalfheim will be able to figure out right away. You'll be going there, asking them for the appropriate material, and using bifrost to seal them together." He nodded to Heimdall, "Which you'll be doing as soon as they get what you need. I'd rather you take care of it there than take several trips back to Asgard until we find something that works."

Heimdall bowed with no hesitation. "An excellent plan, All-Father."

You, however, returned the metal to Odin's desk with a frown. "With all due respect, All-Father, why do you need me to go? It sounds like Heimdall can take care of this himself."

For whatever reason Heimdall felt a mixture of pride at your recognition of his abilities and dejected that you were risking not going with him.

"A couple reasons. Main thing is insurance. If at any point you feel the binding magic within this sphere become unstable, stop the process immediately and return to me. And…" he glanced at Heimdall. "You're popular around here. The dwarves should be happy to help if you take the lead." An insinuation that Heimdall was feared in Svartalfheim. Based on the rebellion Sif had mentioned once, that made sense.

Odin wrapped the core of the artifact in cloth and handed it to you. "No dallying, we're too close to bringing this tool back from destruction to start now."

Huginn enclosed you in the vortex of ravens. With Odin gone, you wasted no time. "Can I expect you to behave yourself while I do all the talking?"

Heimdall rolled his eyes. "Can I expect you to pay attention and not get swept up in the mundane sight of Nidavellir?"

A shrug. "Looks like we'll both be let down." You had learned how to handle Heimdall quite well. This may have been the first time you'd get to look around a new realm even if he was with you for it.

When the ravens parted, Huginn flew off to a high branch. Where exactly, you didn’t bother to follow. Your sight remained on the mountain in front of you, intricate patterns and scenes carefully carved into the surface. Paths leading to outcrops littered the mountainside, all skillfully crafted by the dwarves. Even with the bustling industry the tropical nature of the realm still made itself known, framing the mountain and every hut, workbench, and shop with lush green trees. It was such a far cry from the dust bowls and closely chaperoned gardens of Alfheim, or the flat greenery of Gladsheim that you had grown so accustomed to. The smell of burning coal burned your nose and the clunking of heavy machinery brought life to the air. The warm sunlight filtered through the winding leaves above the round square that you were dropped in the middle of, turning the light into a welcoming yellow-green. You spun around as you took in the sights. Everything was so new, even if a lot of it was artificial.

Heimdall watched you with amusement as he strode towards the largest workstation at the edge of the square. "Don't get too distracted, now. We have work to do."

You were not dissuaded by him. "Oh, come on. This is probably the most pleasing sight we've gotten since we started looking for this relic."

A fair point, he said to himself while a dwarf in a white shirt and stained apron scurried to him. "L-Lord Heimdall! We've been expecting you," he greeted nervously, his brown cap almost sliding off his head when he bowed too quickly.

Your fascination with the environment had to be cut short. Heimdall had been there for a meager minute and he was already about to push his metaphorical weight around. You returned to his side just as Heimdall, while brushing stray ash from his tunic, drawled, "I am aware. Yet I don't see anything that we need. What is your excuse—"

You leaned down a bit to look at the dwarf that was only about two-thirds your height. "All-Father may not have been specific enough for you to supply us right away. Let me apologize for that by explaining what we need," you interrupted with an air of professionalism. The dwarf was blatantly confused by it, his eyes flicking between you and Heimdall like he only had seconds to memorize your appearances before you vanished. You weren't sure if he was more surprised that you had the bravery to interrupt Heimdall or that Heimdall let you interrupt him.

The dwarf adjusted the thin monocle framing the bridge of his wide nose as if he needed to get a better look at you. "And you are, my lady?"

You gave him your name, then continued, "I promise I'm much more personable than my associate here." Your smile was sincere, though Heimdall was irked at the milquetoast insult directed at him. "And what is your name?"

"Oh…I am Halvar, the overseer of this establishment where we sort, distribute, and store the assets that All-Father requests." Despite the condescending sneer Heimdall was giving the dwarf, Halvar relaxed at the gentle sound of your voice. "It is a pleasure to meet you, my lady. What was it that you needed?"

You held out the blue sphere for Halvar to examine, keeping close enough to yourself to communicate that he did not have permission to handle it. "We are looking for an ore that can mend this relic without compromising its abilities. It needs to be capable of holding bifrost, which Heimdall will use to combine them."

Halvar stroked his chin in thought. "I see…that is quite an exotic order. Receptive to magic, soft enough to be malleable, has a low melting point…I have some ideas, but we may need to run some tests to narrow down our options."

Heimdall growled back, "You're the overseer, yet you do not even know which of your stock would work? Are you sure you're qualified for this?"

The dwarf shuddered at the implication that Odin would hear about his shortcomings. "N-no! I mean, I know enough about the ores we have, it-it's just—"

"Ignore him," You intervened again before looking over at Heimdall and muttering, "Heimdall, shut up." The god scoffed at you while you reassured Halvar that you had faith in his knowledge. Among the fear that made a home in Halvar's mind, Heimdall could feel a miniscule hint of shock.

Halvar, much calmer with your comfort, said, "Well, we have plenty to see inside the storeroom. If you follow me I can escort you."

"If you wouldn't mind."

"Why, of course!" Halvar replied a bit too enthusiastically. "I'm happy to be of service, m'lady."

Heimdall almost sighed, seeing the same eagerness to follow your every whim that the servants in Asgard had, solely because you chose to spare them of the treatment befitting their status. As pathetic as ever.

Halvar lead you towards the ginormous circular door into the mountain down the path from the square, moving fast enough that he wouldn't hear Heimdall lean over to you and whisper, "A few soft words and he's like a loyal dog," with an unimpressed glare boring into the dwarf's back.

"Oh really? It's almost like being nice to people makes them like you, huh? Maybe you should try it." He only replied with a mocking exclamation of shock, making you chuckle. The dwarven workers around you stared, wondering why the cruel Heimdall they feared so much had seemed to be fine with the sass.

You were stopped in front of the door that was well over ten times taller than Thor. Halvar signaled his crew to open the gate, the anxiety returning when he turned to Heimdall and said, "It will take just a moment to open."

He was right to hesitate. The statement was enough for Heimdall to complain about, which was unsurprising to you. "You knew we were coming. Why would you not have it open already? All you're doing is wasting our time."

Halvar had an explanation — the wildlife could get antsy in the area and it was not ideal to have them exploring around Odin's preferred merchandise — but you gave him no chance. "Honestly, Heimdall, I don't get why you're so upset about a door."

"It isn't the door, obviously!" He lectured. The dwarves nearby noticed the lack of anger and insults. "It's the principle of the matter."

You sarcastically parroted, "'It's the principle,' he says."

"Yes, the principle! All-Father gave them ample warning of our arrival and it is not a surprise that we wouldn't find what we need in one of the dilapidated, second-rate shops outside of Nidavellir. Saving the trouble of waiting would have been respectful of our time."

You weren't really listening to his rant, knowing his impatience was not justifiable. "It seems to me that your 'principles' are stupid."

Heimdall sighed in annoyance, not bothering to change your mind. When he looked away he caught a few dwarves staring at you in dismay. He shot them a warning glare, silently commanding them not to eavesdrop. They practically tripped over each other trying to leave his line of sight.

The gates finally opened and the rumbling cogs and bolts were silenced. Halvar waved you inside the torchlit tunnel into the mountain. It opened into a huge room with a hole dug out of the roof to let the sunlight into. The branching paths were so numerous that it was overwhelming, leaving you wondering how anyone could keep track of where everything went. Some tunnels held tracks for metal carts that were connected to the plentiful mines within the mountain, others went to rooms that held crates and barrels, tools and safety gear, and spare parts for maintenance. The view from the entrance was so vast that you couldn't see the other end, the darkness of the cave swallowing up anything that wasn't directly under the skylight. Your eyes ventured up to see stairs and ladders going into higher rooms, several stories of them. It was a wonder that the dwarves working there didn't get lost in all the caverns they had to traverse while manning the storeroom.

"This is incredible!" You exclaimed, twirling around to find every detail and tuck it away in your memory. "How is something this massive made in the first place?"

Halvar continued through the dark portion of the entrance and toward the sunlight, grinning at your enthusiasm. "Ah, that's quite a story, my lady. My forefathers were the founders of these caves, drawn here by the rich—"

"How interesting," Heimdall droned, reminding Halvar that this was not a tour.

Halvar shrunk away from him. "Oh, yes, of course, my lord."

You shot Heimdall an irritated glower, moving to lightly slap his shoulder. He dodged it, of course. "Pretend he isn't even here, Halvar. We don't need him yet."

Heimdall showed how appalling the statement was with his expression, prompting you to smirk while you followed Halvar towards the sunlight. From his right he could feel the confusion of other dwarves, locating the source. An entire group of them had stopped to gape at him, all wondering the same thing.

How did you get away with that?

Heimdal asked himself that, snarling at the dwarves to remind them that he did not suffer fools lightly. Worse yet was that he was more angry at them for doubting his prowess than he was at you for giving them a reason to. He wasn't mad at you at all, actually, despite the annoyance being your fault. Maybe if you were still in Asgard, alone and far from others, he wouldn't care. But this was business, and your friendship was nothing compared to his duty to Odin. Bringing whatever antics you used to kill time was not to be tolerated.

He ignored the feeling of other dwarves questioning him while he stalked over to you. He stopped short, the sight stunning him.

The skylight. You were beneath it now, having followed Halvar while he recounted the founding of the storeroom. The warm colored light landed gracefully on your hair, illuminating the strands and gracing them with a golden halo. Your eyes, ever brilliant, shined even brighter with the light illuminating your curious gaze. The smile you wore was full of life and joy, the manifestation of the gentle and kind soul underneath. He could have sworn you were glowing in this setting.

You really are a beautiful woman.

Wait.

Heimdall shook his head and grit his teeth. No distractions, not while he was in the process of completing a very important task for the All-Father.

Halvar finished his tale and directed the two gods down a specific tunnel, with you gleefully following him. Heimdall caught up to you, intent on voicing his disdain for your casual behavior at such an inappropriate time. As soon as he was next to you and your eyes landed on him, all the frustration melted, and he couldn't control himself before he smirked at you lightheartedly. "Need I remind you that we are here on business?"

"Heimdall," you pleaded, slightly exasperated, "this may be the only time we don't have to traipse through snow or fight off ogres while we work. Don't you want to have at least a little fun?"

"Your 'fun' isn't welcome right now." He regretted the harsh tone as soon as he saw the hurt pass through you. "I much prefer keeping it elsewhere," he added quickly.

You paused, contemplating that statement, then nodded. "Alright, if you insist." You sounded too smug to him. Underneath that joking facade, he read something else. You were flattered, it seemed. Like you didn't mind that your friendly habits remained between you two.

He didn't feel the need to discourage it.

Heimdall intended to be stern and domineering, determined to criticize you whenever you were too friendly. It was just his thoughts that were a problem. They were so intrusive then, words and ideas popping into his head before he could regulate them. All of them had to do with you. Every single one.

He'd grown quiet as Halvar presented different metals to you and let you test magic on them, keeping his distance at times. He just looked at you, and it was when something made his gaze loiter for too long that the rogue thoughts would occur. When you were standing before a mine cart full of stones that glowed blue, he watched you, in awe of how the light danced across your features. Later on Halvar brought them to a forge to melt a piece of ore that you considered a worthy candidate. The heat rushed out of the furnace he opened, the hot air blowing back your tresses and making them flutter in the breeze. He watched every strand flit across your face. After that metal was deemed inappropriate for your purpose, Halvar guided you to a crate of a rare resource, freshly mined and still covered in soot. Heimdall tracked your fingers poking at the metals, staining your fingers with black dust. You wiped them off on your waist, and Heimdall's eyes were trapped in that spot, admiring your frame and the curve of your back until you walked away.

He watched you go until Huginn cawed at him. The insolent bird had been staying closer than usual.

No matter how much he forced himself to focus and stay alert he kept drifting back to you, telling himself how gorgeous you were in the torchlight, or how sweet your voice was, or noticing how soft your skin looked, or how enticing your laughter was…

You had found a potential ore to use, one that passed all other tests and shouldn't interfere with the complex binding spell the relic created. All you needed was for Heimdall to see how it reacted to bifrost. "Heimdall," you called without taking your eyes away from the ore. "Can you test this out for me?"

Heimdall was too lost in thought, examining the gorgeous proportions of your profile.

"Heimdall?"

The second attempt shook him out of his mind. Your amused smirk was the first thing he registered. "Not even paying attention, are we?"

He didn't answer. He didn't want to, still wondering why he was so distracted.

The ore passed the bifrost test, and you deemed it would react well to the existing magic. He took the lump of ore in his hand, a rainbow glow emanating through his fingers. When he opened his hand the once black stone was a mass of swirling blues and pinks. Halvar was excited by the new idea, despite the fact that he knew Odin wouldn't give them any time to explore it. The dwarf bounced off to the forge to melt the ore and mend the crack in the relic.

"You've been quiet," you said once you were ignored by any surrounding dwarves. "Something on your mind?"

Heimdall shrugged, pretending that he didn't have the slightest clue what you were talking about. "I can't say any of this has managed to keep me entertained."

"Oh really? You seemed much more interested earlier, when you were whining."

"I do not whine."

"It sounded like whining to me."

Heimdall taunted back, "You have no right considering how much you whined when I wouldn't let you pet Gulltoppr after I dropped you off last night."

You harrumphed, "That's different. You were just being a jerk."

Heimdall laughed in triumph. The sound brought a wave of confusion through the bystanders. Every single dwarf within earshot was aghast that Heimdall showed not an ounce of viciousness or annoyance, and even looked content. He promptly reminded them who he was with a single scowl that sent them running.

Once again his mind went on a tangent fueled by you. His eyes went to your ear, where the gold cuff decorated the cartilage. He remembered the first time he saw it. He liked it, and considered taking it if he was given permission to kill you. This time he didn't consider having it for himself, or think about how it matched his picky taste in trinkets. All he could think was how nice it looked on you, how it brought out the highlighted strands among the hair around it.

His thoughts were interrupted by the gradual build up of anxiety coming from you, evident by your fingers fidgeting with your sleeves. "Is there any particular reason you're staring at me?"

"I'm not." Technically true, he was looking at your jewelry specifically, not your person.

You sighed. "I've mentioned this before, Heimdall. Your eyes glow. It's hard to miss."

Heimdall replied by rolling his eyes, using that to indicate that his denial stood strong. The nervous tension in you remained.

"Are you angry with me?" Said in a whisper so that no one but him would hear.

Heimdall almost scoffed. "Have I ever had a problem with voicing my anger in the past?"

A shrug. "No…but you don't always have such an intense look on your face, which makes me think you're upset."

He had no idea how to explain himself while hiding the fact that he didn't really have a reason.

"If it's because I'm being too chummy in public, I can stop."

Stop? Stop doing the things you always did? Go back to that quiet, meek form of yourself that held back the flame he found so amusing? The idea itself felt like blasphemy. "Don't," he choked out, biting his cheek afterward. He still couldn't figure out how you managed to loosen his tongue.

A glimmer of hope peeked through the fear in you. "You aren't mad then?"

It was then it clicked. You weren't scared that he was angry. You were afraid that he was ashamed of your friendship. It made sense. He'd made it abundantly clear to everyone in the realms that the only part of him they'd see would only be his fiercest front, and no less. No one should forget his deadly skills, his lack of hesitation when it came to expressing his power. That was exactly why he chose to remain professional with you when he was called to action. Hearing that it made you think he was ashamed, though…He didn't like it. There were so many people he was ashamed of associating with. Thor, his sons, the mortal inhabitants in Gladsheim, the idiotic einherjar that were just barely smart enough to take orders, dwarves that he intimidated on Odin's behalf…but not you. You were the last person he would be ashamed of. The only person he could do more than tolerate, the reason this entire trip to Svartalfheim hadn't been a complete drag that drove him to the brink of unreasonable violence. If you thought he was ashamed, then there would only be one place — your little hideaway in Asgard — where you would continue to be yourself and show that fiery temperament of yours.

The iron will to remain professional he had forged began to bend and crumple. "I'm not upset," he said after a few moments, struggling to sound as neutral as possible.

Even the indifferent sounding confirmation was enough, banishing the fear that you had crossed a line and broken his trust. "Really? Hmm…you definitely would have been if this was happening months ago."

The mischief he heard convinced him that abandoning his decision was worth it. There you were: the one that made things so much more lively. Why did he want to push you away again? Really, it was much more worthwhile to punish anyone who was foolish enough to think he was any less of a god when your friendship showed. Why punish himself for it?

His duties still came first, of course. But the opinions of anyone that wasn't Odin? Well, he never cared in the first place, and why would he start now?

He covered his rapid withdrawal with a confident smirk. "Well, we are still forced to tolerate each other. I've chosen to spare you my wrath for the time being."

You felt your stomach flip, knowing his words were more cryptic than they seemed. "To my understanding, you just said that you really have started to like me."

"The stupid language thing again," he mumbled under his breath. "You're wrong, actually, I despise you entirely."

You laughed, the wonderful sound like little bells. "Don't worry, I despise you too." Implying that you were speaking his "language," obviously. He chuckled at how ridiculous it sounded coming from you.

The conversation would sensibly end there, but Heimdall felt the urge to say a few more things — things he fought the urge to say. He wanted to emphasize that his declared hatred for you was sarcasm despite that you clearly knew it. He just hated the idea of you thinking there was even an ounce of truth to it, that his hatred for you hadn't long since passed and been replaced by…this. Whatever this was.

You snickered again, making him realize he had started gawking at you again, this time in plain view. "That reminds me. If you aren't angry, then what is it?"

He didn't know. He couldn't consider it either. The forge Halvar was working on grew brighter with rising flames. Their light highlighted your eyes and accentuated the forms of your face, all while warming your skin and adding color to the hair he was more and more tempted to reach out and touch.

All he could do was look at you. In that moment you were so, so breathtaking. It was the first time he'd ever been so entranced by someone.

You're beautiful. He wanted to say. He fought it. So what? When did appearances ever matter? Why did he feel the need to say something so foolish and worthless?

Something inside him had the answer: it wasn't your appearance that made you beautiful.

He lost the battle. His mouth opened. The phrase was working its way through his tongue.

A hardy guffaw broke the scene. Halvar returned with the orb, hooting and hollering about his handiwork. "Lookie here! It's like it was never broken in the first place!" He held it out for you to see, much more inclined to show you rather than Heimdall. There was no exaggeration in his declaration, however. The sphere was as good as new, and there was no sign it was any less functional than before. If anything it felt more stable now that the magic was properly contained.

"That's amazing!" You cheered, asking how he managed such a feat on an object as delicate as that artifact.

Heimdall tuned out. There was one persistent thought in his mind, and it was taking all of his strength to drown it.

He established that he liked you the night before, and he accepted as much. Now it was starting to sink in.

He didn't like you. He was fond of you. Very fond of you.

Huginn's black eyes never left him.

#Heimdall #heimdall god of war #gow heimdall #heimdall x reader #songbird of asgard #Heimdall finally says the thing (tm)#god of war

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cilil · 1 year

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Can I request ❤️ Navëquen ❤️and evenings?

Please be good to him...please? 🥺

Summer Stories

AN: Of course, dear <3 and yes, I will. Just for you! Hope you like this little scene~

Prompt: Navëquen Synopsis: Navëquen decides to spend the evening outside of Mandos and enjoy his favourite hobby Warnings: /

It's been a while since he left the Halls of Mandos.

Navëquen squints as he takes a moment to look up at the evening sun. The world outside is so different, bright and noisy – not necessarily unpleasant, but his fána needs time to adjust. Today, however, he deliberately seeks out the ambience of the outside world; he doesn't want his drawings to be lifeless, so life around him is what he needs.

He finds a comfortable spot in the middle of the plains of Valinor and sits down cross-legged, placing his sketchbook on his lap.

Now what to draw...

A small smile appears on his lips when Navëquen flicks through older drawings to find the next blank page. Maybe he could try something new... or something familiar for comfort. Maybe a portrait of Námo on his throne, maybe his little Lilómelda in her rose garden, maybe Vanimóre... oh, he could fill an entire sketch book with drawings of his smile, showing those adorable little fangs...

Thankfully, he has time. Day and night matter little to him, and Mandos is peaceful at the moment. He can sit here long enough to draw whatever his heart desires, until he's content with the result and feels like returning home.

The sun slowly sets, and the world around him quiets. Navëquen hums a few stray notes of his song while losing himself in his work, the sound of pen on paper music to his ears. His left eye darkens as he focuses on yet another memory to capture it in a drawing, fleeting images taking shape with every movement of his hand.

Whatever sense of nervousness compelled him to leave the halls soon vanishes. Here, by himself and only his sketchbook to keep him company, he feels content and at ease.

Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider liking and reblogging!

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃ Lilómelda (dear/beloved of many flowers) ~ Navëquen's nickname for Erulissë, Vanimóre's little sister ᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

taglist: @bluezenzennie @edensrose @i-did-not-mean-to @singleteapot @wandererindreams

#drabble #triple drabble #short and sweet #navequen #navëquen #my ocs #maia oc #ainu oc #silmarillion oc #maiar #ainur #summer stories #silmarillion #silmarillion fanfiction #cílil writes #my writing

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knightyoomyoui · 2 years

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TWICE x M Reader- “Cry For Me”: PART 1

A new TWICE x Reader one-shot with divided parts has arrived to kick off on Set 4! I want to thank you all again for your reads and votes on my first previous series, "Doughnut," which was based on TWICE's own song of the same name. I hope I did well again in this new story I wrote, and I hope you will like it as much as "Doughnut." By the way, my own book for "Doughnut," which is simply a compilation of all 7 parts, will be released on Sunday because I already decided to turn it into a single book after one of my followers answered "yes" on my question in the announcements, a reader commented on one of the parts, and lastly... because of my own desire too. I just need to spend my entire Saturday to reviewing for our upcoming midterms before focusing into the book.

Enjoy reading everyone!

----------START----------

"Timecheck, please," the girl persuaded to her friend walking beside her. They've just exited the department store with their hands full of shopping bags, and the handles are entangled on all their fingers.

Her short black-haired friend listened to her,, her gaze fixated on the silver watch wrapped around her wrist. " 5:30 PM," she said. The brown-haired girl who asked for it hummed in response.

"We've been here for 7 hours already, although it didn't feel like it," she added after she realized about it. "Yeah, but I guess we're just too busy with our shopping today," she shrugged her shoulders, chuckling from the statement of her friend. "I still can't believe you invited me to go out with you after you just landed back here from the airport, Nayeon-unnie," the black-haired girl said to her bestfriend, who had just returned to her native country after spending three years in the United States with her family. They relocated because his father was promoted to a better position at a company in Atlanta."You could've rested beforehand, you know," she worriedly replied. "I'm not tired, that's why...", the girl named Nayeon blurted out, unfazed. "I just missed you so much okay, it's been almost 2 years already since we last saw each other," she playfully slapped her hand on her friend's arm.

"That's sweet," she rolled her eyes, chuckling at Nayeon's thoughtfulness. "Pretty long, right? Well don't worry, I will always be here for you anytime you want me to spend time with you, to pick up from where we left off years ago." "And that's what we're doing today, and it's been fairly fantastic so far," she added, staring at the side profile of her somewhat taller friend before her eyes wandered over the interior of the mall, where they were presently on the fourth floor. "Of course, since my friend is here today to join me," she said proudly with a smile, puffing out her plump cheeks. "Thank you, Jeongyeon-ah." Nayeon was ready to move over on her side, her pursed lips slowly moving across her face, when she hastily looked away from her, removing the kiss's landing area where it was supposed to connect. "Aghhh wa- nooo ewww," she humorously said, disgusted by Nayeon's action. "You're so mean," Nayeon whined. "Just one kiss, Jeongyeon-ah," she said on the second attempt.

Jeongyeon softly pushed Nayeon aside, attempting to avoid her once more. "No." "Fine," she said, not willing to waste any more time with her arrogance against romantic gestures. "Why do you hate it in the first place, it's like... the sweetest gesture somebody could ever express to you." "I'm not sure, I just find it sort of disgusting," Jeongyeon reasoned. "Tss. As if you've never been kissed before," Nayeon said, dismissing Jeongyeon's explanation. She spotted Jeongyeon glaring at her, which irritated at her.

"Oh... nevermind," she eventually decided to quit with it her because she knew her words brought her to some flashbacks that might mix her mood with a gloomy one. They had just turned from the mall's right lane and were now standing on one of the escalator steps leading below. "Hey, want to buy more things? I already got what I wanted here with me," Nayeon said, lifting her item a bit to show Jeongyeon what she meant. "Nah, I'm okay my new clothing here as well." Jeongyeon did the same but peered lower to check what she bought, which was less than Nayeon's amount of what she paid to get. "I don't want to add too many stuff to my house," she explained. Nayeon simply nodded, which was understandable to her. "Let's eat somewhere then," she said as she stepped away from the escalator. They are now on the third floor, where the majority of the establishments are restaurants. "Why don't we just take samgyup?" Jeongyeon said, pointing to the distance where she noticed people eating and cooking their dishes in a samgyupsal style, which got her attention and passed it to Nayeon too. "Then samgyup it is!" Nayeon agreed, and they began strolling straight through their next chosen destination. They eventually arrived and are now standing right in front of the doors of the Samgyup restaurant, where they can see all the meals that the customers and cookingz are eating and organizing on top of their table, ready to be devoured. "Ooh, we found one," Nayeon exclaimed after searching for an unoccupied free seat inside. She was ready to walk in when she realized Jeongyeon wasn't following her. She turned around to see her looking blankly at something. Her body is utterly still, and she is completely silent. "Hey let's- hello? Earth to Jeongyeon, are you there?" Nayeon awakened her friend's senses, even though she didn't need to because her conscience was still hasn't getting blurred out. "I changed my mind. Let's find other-" Jeongyeon was ready to complete his words when Nayeon grabbed her forearm and stopped her from going away. "Wait, why? But we're already here?" Nayeon puzzledly said. She had just joined Jeongyeon, who'd already moved away from the restaurant after discovering something. They are now both standing alongside the corridor leading to the male and female restrooms. Nayeon then ducked to look at Jeongyeon's face, which was obscured by her bent head. She noticed her expression alter to one of frustration and annoyance, prompting her to inquire as to what had caused her rapid mood shift. "Hey, are you okay? What's up with the fuming eyes?" Nayeon said, grasping Jeongyeon's left shoulder, who was taking long sighs. She eventually opened her eyes and responded, but she wasn't looking at her. "He's here."Eh? H-him? ", Nayeon wrinkled her brows, then sought to identify where Jeongyeon's eyes were fastened instead, seeking a more specific by herself because the latter is still too stunned by what she had just witnessed. Nayeon returned her gaze to the restaurant, and after a few seconds of tracing the individuals visible through the glass pane wall, she realized WHO had drowned Jeongyeon out of her world. "It's YN..." she mumbled. Jeongyeon merely looked blankly at the sight of her bad ex-husband inside the samgyupsal resto, who was also visible from the outside. You're munching your own food after removing it from the hot pan with your tongs. But that wasn't the only thing that you made Jeongyeon confused, angry, and slightly hurt by your presence. You are not eating by yourself. A woman joins your table in front of you and appears to be eating pleasantly with you. You were chatting about something based on how your and her mouths are still moving despite the fact that neither of you has taken up a piece of food. "He's joined by-" "Yeah. I assume that's the person he replaced me with," Jeongyeon replied seriously, her gaze now drawn to the lady who, in her opinion, is indisputably beautiful. "You mean, through cheating?" mocked Nayeon, folding her arms beneath her chest. Jeongyeon's face twitched in anger as she remembered how you committed the largest sin in her whole life, tearing yourselves apart and leaving you unforgiven. You and Jeongyeon have been married for a year. You met her when you placed an order at her mini-online food business, where she works as a chef from home. She had just started her business at the time, therefore she is also the one who delivers it to her first clients. You are among those she served. You rushed inside the door after ringing your doorbell. You were hoping to receive a delicious treat that you purchased online at first... But you had no idea you'd meet someone who would one day be totally yours and become your very first love.

You proposed to your girlfriend months after you two first met, and she accepted without hesitation. As a result, your marriage with her was successful, and you were finally able to call her your wife and begin establishing your dream family with her. Jeongyeon believed the same thing because her dreams were almost identical to yours, so she freely shared it with you. She expected you to stay with her forever until all of your goals were fulfilled with her, but it all crumbled down when the first year of your marriage with her passed... all of her rainbow-ish plans with you were wrecked by a storm. She was just sheepishly thinking of finally wanting to have your first child with her after she made it clear that she's now ready to raise kids with you as she tried to come up with a solution to deal with your sudden days of unusual cold behavior later that night after when you came home from work when a phone call interrupted her moment. She took it up, and what she heard and saw caused her to scream and cry out her tears. Nayeon informed her that she witnessed you driving another lady inside her house. She didn't believe it at first, but knowing Nayeon, who is always aware of the possibilities, she sent proof #2, which was her photos of you being with your another girl in a car and sending her in front of her house. What happens next when you return home marks the end of your relationship with her when she successfully made you admit that you are cheating on her because "you can't feel the love from her like you used to have." "Aish, I saw that dickhead's face in person again," Nayeon grumbled. "Let's go there, I want to confront him-" she was going to leave her side when Jeongyeon tugged her shirt. "Nayeon, stop. Let them be," she said solemnly. "I don't want to eat there anymore; I've lost interest," she added before taking the initiative to walk away instead. Nayeon trailed behind her, quickening her steps to catch up. "Jeong, listen to me. It's been months since you two broke up because of what he did, and he didn't appear to regret it, Jeong. You should do something about it." "What do you mean?" Jeongyeon asked, perplexed at what Nayeon meant with that. "Jeong, you're his wife, and he just violated your trust and love at the same time, then abandoned you like it was nothing; don't you think he doesn't deserve to... you know, pay for what he did?" she said. Jeongyeon listened to her more intently, but her gaze was still fixed on the direction they were heading. "Let me remind you, you two are married, and cheating is a big no-no. He never apologized to you, which is absolutely unacceptable, and you should not let him get away with this easy, I'm telling you." They both came to a halt in front of a store that was closed due to an ongoing construction. "I know. I-I am upset with him, but I don't know how," Jeongyeon stressed, clutching both sides of her brow. Her breathing grew heavy as she began sniffing from the brimming tears in her eyes. "I just feel like there's nothing I can do..." Nayeon came to the aid, as she usually do for her beloved bestfriend, giving her scarf to wipe the recently shed tears away to avoid staining her lovely face. "No, you can, okay? Well, because I'm also infuriated by what she did to you... I could lend you some assistance with something I'm thinking of that I guess could work." Jeongyeon's eyes were somewhat reddish and droopy when she looked at her companion. "What exactly is it?" Before telling her what she had in mind, Nayeon grinned mischievously.

THE NEXT DAY

"Tell Max to bring all my papers to my desk, then tell Olivia that I want her to go to my office because I'll give her the schedules she needs for leader-nim regarding with the project proposal, okay?" you commanded to your coworker after rising up from your seat and finishing the second batch of paperworks to review for today. "Noted right there, mate," says your colleague Seungkwan, who is sitting in his desk next to yours. After filling your cup with water from the dispenser, one of your teammates and fellow researcher, Rosé, appeared in front of you and patiently waited for you to finish drinking.

"Hey, Rosé what's up?"

"Uhh excuse me but YN you have a guest who wants to see you.", she pointed her thumb to behind, implying that the person is waiting outside the room.

"Oh okay... I'll take it from here.", you nodded before placing your cup back to your desk. "Thanks.", you said to her before passing through her.

You leave the department room of the team you are now assigned to at the firm where you work.You came to a halt after walking into the lobby when you saw a familiar figure in the distance. It was your ex-wife Jeongyeon sitting in one of the waiting seats, quietly waiting and looking at other people walking around the place. You walked slowly, a bit anxious to approach her because you hadn't seen her in months after what happened because of you. "J-jeongyeon?" you said gently from behind her. She rotated her head, revealing your ex- wife's stunning face and her new look.

Last time when you and her were together, she has a long curly black hair that you find it hot and appealing to her but her current one she's having still doesn't change the fact that she will always be beautiful and sexy in your eyes. It felt surreal to see her again. "O-oh... there you are," she mumbled, startled by your arrival as she slowly rose up and frantically adjusted her posture. "H-hi," she stammered shyly, waving her hand. She looked adorable as always, and it took you back to that precise memory where it was the first word she said to you when she came on the doorway of your house holding your ordered meal, which she cooked perfectly. But, unlike before, your heart did not bloom in strong feelings anymore on what she did. To you, it's all in the past now.

"Uhh hi?", you awkwardly greeted her too. "H-how are you?"

"Good, you?"

"I'm pretty busy, but I'm doing well with my teammates," you added. It piqued your interest when a thought occurred to you that you wanted to figure out... What exactly is she doing here anyway? "Oh... sorry about that," she apologized. "Am I disturbing you from-," she said nervously, but you cut her off quickly to put her at ease. "No, you didn't. They can move for themselves there. Nothing to worry about," you waved your hands fast in assurance. You and her exchanged an awkward and very uncomfortable silence, owing to the fact that you are definitely meeting up with the woman you used to adore. Thankfully, you spoke out again, remembering your curiosity that prompted you to ask. "Uhm, what got you visiting here for me, Jeong?" "S-sorry again It's just... I-I came here to say something for you," Jeongyeon said as she fiddled with her fingers, tensely roving her gaze about as she can't stop herself avoidng to make eye contact with you.

"Go ahead, I'll listen.", you said, placing your hands inside your pockets as you stood calmly in front of her, waiting for her to speak.

"I know that... you know, we're divorced now, but... I just want to have some closure with you," she said with a weary smile. "If you want, we could re-establish ourselves as friends again," she offered. "Y-you serious with this, Jeong?" you said, raising your brow as you got surprised after hearing her purpose in coming here to meet you. "I am... and we're completely fine now," she said with a nod of her head. "I just... don't want to hold grudges with people and get away with it forever," she finally managed to lock eyes with you, and you joined her nonchalantly. "Sure, if that's what you want, Jeong; I want us to be friends again," you answered, spreading your arms as a gesture of welcoming her again. "Then good. We've got our closure now, YN," she replied, giving you a smile that appears to be a display of satisfaction within her. "Thank you for this." "Thank you as well, Jeong; I appreciate that you still want to be close to me despite what happened between us," you chuckled, scratching your nape. "You've already become special to me; I can't let our closeness go," she reasoned. "So, uhh... I guess this won't be the last I'll be meeting you then."

"Yeah, it's all fine to me. You can visit here or let's set up a meeting anytime when I'm free."

"I'll save it up in my mind.", she nodded. She was about to turn around and start walking away from you but she added up one more question for you to talk with her.

"Before I go uhm... h-how's you and her?", she questioned with full of curiousity.

"We're doing well. Smooth flow so far.", you said as you taunted a wave using your hand.

"Oh... okay."

"How about you? Are you looking for somebody to love again?", you took the turn to ask her after.

"Not yet.", she shook her head.

"You'll find someone for you, Jeong. I believe in you. Love takes time.", you encouraged her. Jeongyeon just hummed and smiled at your cheer.

"Yeah, you're right."

You looked at the time in your phone after pulling it out from your pocket. "Oh... well I should excuse myself now, Jeong. Gotta assist my team back there again. We really need to finish all the paperworks today."

"Sure, you can go now.", she allowed you.

"Bye, Jeong," you bid your farewell to her. You were also going to leave and return to your office when you thought there was something you could do to convey more how much you appreciated doing this merely to make sure your bond with her won't get wasted. You took a step forward, then drew her body against yours and wrapped your arms around her, sealing her in a tight, warm, delightful, but also somewhat longing hug of yours. Jeongyeon was astounded by your embrace. Little did you know that she tried to compose herself and keep her disguise on, but her furious look, aggressive heartbeats, and the racing flow of her blood running through her body were confusingly transitioning down slowly from fury into something unknown that she couldn't figure out yet. Instead of pushing you and watching you slump to the floor with a great smug look on her face, she just wants to let you do your thing to her. "Thank you for wanting to be friends with me once more, Jeong." "No problem, I genuinely thought it would be best if we just stay like this," Jeongyeon remarked as you felt both her hands delicately stroking and rubbing your back in comfort. After a few more seconds of appreciating the sweetness of your hug with her, you let her go. You gave her one more wave before walking away, leaving her alone in the lobby. Jeongyeon, on the other hand, watches you fade away in her view. Her fake grin, which she had been wearing during the chat, gradually shrank and morphed into a straight-lipped fierce demeanor.

She groaned as she irritably brushed her hair before rubbing her clothes off as if though she was disgusted by your touch with her. "Aish.... I hate his guts so much," she sighed. She began walking out of the building, into the parking lot, where she unlocked her car door and got inside, rolling her eyes at the replay of her hug with you again. "There, Nabongs, I did what you told me to do; I wonder what you're doing there right now." she muttered before inserting the key to awake the engine of her car and drive away.

(MEANWHILE AT THE SAME TIME OF YOU AND JEONGYEON'S INTERACTION)

Nayeon was admiringly inspecting all the various well-made expensive outfits that were hanging presentably in every rack inside a store. She grabbed one, tracing the delicate fabric with her palms as she caressed its soft and smooth texture. She flipped it front and back, and Nayeon pursed her lower lip as she developed interest in purchasing it and adding it to her closet. Nayeon looked around the store and it didn't take long for her to recognize the person who was her main agenda for visiting here. Her selecting the clothes that that she would like to have is only part of her mini-undercover operation to make her less suspicious. She called the lady dressed in her uniform who monitors the customers, including herself on observing the garments. Raising her hand, she successfully caught her attention and quickly walked closer towards her. "Yes, ma'am? Is there anything I can do for you?" the fine lady asked. Nayeon watched her from head to toe and concluded that, although you suck at keeping relationships healthy and strong, especially when it comes for being devoted and committed, you sure do pick a one hell of a woman to fell in love with. The lady is taller than she is, and her curves are flawlessly shown by her fitted pencil skirt. Her beautiful blonde hair is tied in a ponytail, and her face exudes innocence and beauty.

Nayeon agreed and understood right away that you fell in love with this woman, but that is still not an appropriate reason and a decision to chose for you to destroy your relationship with your wife and leave her cleaning up and fixing again the shattered pieces of her heart alone. "Uhh miss, I want to ask... does this fits on me?" Nayeon asked, placing the dress in front of her, covering her upper body to make it appear as if she was wearing it. "Of course you're looking amazing there, ma'am; it would be much better if you were to buy that outfit and wear it one day," she replied, entertaining and persuading the client as she should. "Do you like it, ma'am?" Nayeon bowed her head, smiling at her praise, which was genuine. She does have this weird obsession with hearing compliments about herself, but she is still able to not get carried away easily by how they speak or act impressively in front of them. That's one of the reasons too on why she always reserve a piece of doubt with her to be aware on every people she meets. Which is very helpful to her because if it wasn't for it, it wouldn't lead her following you secretly when she detected you bringing an unfamiliar woman inside your car and discover your darkest truth. "Well, thanks to your comment, I'm even more excited about buying this," she beamed a smile , and your response had her laughing firmly; probably pleased and happy that she had successfully convinced Nayeon to buy their product.

"Yes, I'll be paying for this now.", Nayeon said, only for the saleslady to grew her smile larger.

Now that she have her target standing in front of her, she then proceeded sneakily on following her plan; still portraying herself as a normal customer.

"Uhh what is your name, just curious?"

"Tzuyu, maam.", she bowed her head as she introduced herself.

"A pretty uncommon name," she said, fascinated. "Are you perhaps, not from around here?" "I'm a Taiwanese, ma'am," she said, stating her nationality. Nayeon mentally clapped slowly, amused and astonished that you managed to attract a very gorgeous foreigner and might have tricked her with your deceptive character, which only made Nayeon feel sorrow for the young lady. "I honestly thought you were a model, Tzuyu. Your visuals are way godlike," she said in awe as she travelled her eyes around Tzuyu's ethereal face. The saleswoman fluttered, red tints of blush forming in her cheeks.

"T-thank you."

"Have you ever considered modeling before?" Nayeon asked. That's a genuine question from her because she, too, is curious. "U-uhh... I haven't, but you're just like to what others have frequently telling me ma'am that I have the qualities," she replied. "Well, on their behalf, they are obviously telling the truth!" she agreed with those other people's assertions about what they think about Tzuyu being very accurate, as well as her own. "This place... well, it's fashionable and stylish, this is the environment that matches you, so yeah, modeling? Why not, right?" Nayeon shrugged her shoulders while tilting her head aside.

"T-thank you for the compliments, maam. I'm truly touched.", Tzuyu said, bowing her body again slightly as she placed both hands on her rapid beating chest.

Nayeon grasped her supple arm in her hands and squeezed it gently. "You should be. Hey, I'm going to pay for this, then may I have you for a moment after?" she said. "Sure, ma'am, take your time," Tzuyu said as she assisted Nayeon by leading her to the cashier for the rich bunny to pay. After acquiring the clothes Nayeon preferred, she and Tzuyu left the store and beside of it, there was a free area where the two could communicate privately. "Thank you for allowing me to have a small talk with you, Ms. Tzuyu; I hope I am not bothering you or something," Nayeon apologized. "No worries, ma'am, you didn't," Tzuyu said, shaking her head to disprove it. "Well, you said it yourself that it would just take a while." "Yeah, you're right," she said, smiling and popping her lips out as it pressed together before speaking according to her plan this time. "Anyway, I'll get straight to the point now," Nayeon said, her face slowly changing from bright to serious.

"I know I sounded like a scouting agent searching for someone to invite for an audition organized by my entertainment agency or whatsoever, but... no, I'm not," she declared. making Tzuyu's brows knit together. "In fact, I intended to speak with you about something else..." "May I ask what it is, ma'am?" Tzuyu asked. She was initially alarmed by how odd this stranger she was speaking with seemed. She is eager to find out what this woman's objective is for her. "Ms. Tzuyu, you know a guy named YN LN, right?" she questioned, standing straight and placing her arms behind her back with a pint of intimidation in her aura. Tzuyu's eyes widened as he heard the mention of the name. "E-excuse me?" "YN LN. That name is particularly familiar to you, isn't it?" snickered Nayeon, enjoying seeing Tzuyu be bewildered by how she uttered the name of this man she obviously knows Tzuyu is linked with. "W-well... yes, it is since that's my boyfriend's name," Tzuyu's shaky voice became obvious as the volume increased. "What is this? What do you want from him? Can I help you something about it, maam?" "Yes, I know him, but he doesn't know who I am," Nayeon said, pointing her finger at herself. "BUT, he surely knows my friend who... he owes a lot to pay for," her jaw clenched in anger. Tzuyu just gulped, clueless and pure confused on what she's trying to convey. She's starting to wonder what her boyfriend did to this girl's friend to make her seem like she wants to rebel and hunt him down for his mistake. She has many probabilities appearing in her mind and it wasn't helping her to calm down at all. She just hoped all of it would turn out false. "Ms. Tzuyu, I'm here to ask you something." Nayeon began to walk slowly, circling around Tzuyu. "How well do you know your boyfriend?" she said, leaning down close to the younger's ear, making an attempt to get her words heard clearly by tiptoeing to reach her height. Tzuyu had shivers when Nayeon's breath hit the hole in her ear, tickling and chilling her all over. "I-I'm sorry, w-who are you miss, and where is this going?" she retorted, finally not allowing herself to be frightened by Nayeon's interrogation. " I don't understand what's going on at all; you're making it sound like my partner did something wrong-" "BECAUSE HE IS!" stomped Nayeon, staring deeply on Tzuyu's terrified and appalled state. The space between their faces has narrowed, and Nayeon's agitated attitude is clearly evident for Tzuyu to see. "Don't call me ma'am now; to introduce myself, I am Im Nayeon, bestfriend of the girl who once became his ex-wife, whom he broke up with because my friend discovered that he's having an affair with you at the same time while they're a married couple." Tzuyu's mouth parted as she gasped in shock at the revelation Nayeon had just pulled off.

"Ex- What? What are you saying... I-I don't believe you," Tzuyu chuckled uneasily, trying her best to ignore and dismiss what this woman had just said to her. She wants to believe that you told her the truth when you said you had never been involved or in a relationship with anybody before. "I knew you would say that," Nayeon sighed exhaustedly. She took out her phone from her bag and opened it. She went to the gallery and selected the very first image she saved to day.

She showed to Tzuyu your wedding picture with Jeongyeon in front of the altar. Tzuyu saw how your tuxedo suited on you, Jeongyeon undeniably looking like an angel with her long white wedding gown and your both arms wrapped around your ex-wife's waist once full of care and love.

"There, am I lying now?" Nayeon asked again with sassiness. Tzuyu's heart cracked as she realized you just lied to her. Her complete trust in you began to vanish like smoke joining into thin air. "Oh god... T-this isn't real..." she said, her voice shaking in anguish as she struggled to remain in denial, wishing all of this was a dream she was having while sleeping during her work right now. Nayeon understood instantly what she felt. She watched how her friend suffered more than she did, but the cause was the same with Jeongyeon, so she can't help but feel awful seeing Tzuyu break down because of what she did that just serves the purpose of what should be properly done. "It is, Tzuyu. I saw it with my own eyes when that one night he drove you home before he went to his own, and you have no idea that she's with his wife at that moment," Nayeon recalled the time that led everything into this.

"You're clearly looking at your boyfriend and my friend whom he married only to left her devastated.", she spatted it out strongly as Nayeon felt infuriated again at what you've to Jeongyeon... and now including Tzuyu this time when she saw the poor girl's tears flow down in her neatly make-upped face.

"W-what do you want from me?", Tzuyu said between her sniffling of her cries.

"Revenge, plain and simple.", Nayeon walked beside Tzuyu and rubbed her back gently to console her which only made the latter to cry harder.

"And I want you to assist me.", she added as she spoke it in a lower tone, leaning her mouth closer to her ear.

"How?" Tzuyu said, her eyes defining how hurt she felt as she looked at the wedding picture of you and Jeongyeon that Nayeon showed to her. "I want to make YN regret what he did to my friend, and I looked for you because... oh well, I suppose he basically did the same thing for you too, and I wasn't wrong at all." "At first, I believed he couldn't do that to me... he claimed he only loves me...", Tzuyu said before sobbing again, with Nayeon constantly supporting her. "I'm sorry to break it to you, Tzuyu, but... that's precisely what he used to say to my friend here, too," Nayeon recalled how Jeongyeon confidently mentioning it in her stories with you that she's sharing to her. She can tell by the messages Jeongyeon is telling her about her times with you that she was so deeply in love with you. Nayeon had previously observed how her friend was always pleased and floating in cloud nine while she was always with you. And now, reflecting back on what you did to Jeongyeon in the end after she had been faithful and loyal exclusively to you, did her best to do her role as your wife with full effort, and loved you through her heart and soul, it was simply unacceptable and unforgivable.

"So, that gives me an answer; you don't know him very well yet, but now... you are," Nayeon goes back to her previous question, to which Tzuyu did not respond. "That it was unexpected for you to realize that he just made you a rebound, a side option for him to replace when he fell out of love with my friend," Tzuyu just kept on listening to her words that nearly leading her back to reality, saving her from being manipulated in your deceitful and foolish claims for a longer period of time. "It hurts, I know Tzuyu.", Nayeon with her comforting words, taking the responsibility as her companion. "I'm sorry if I had to let you know about this... it's just, you don't deserve to be played like this like what he did to my friend. That's why I came to look for you because you needed this too."

"I felt betrayed so much...", Tzuyu finally speaks, Nayeon just attentively listened to what she has to say. She started wiping the tears from her face with her own handkerchief. "I thought seeing him sometimes with his acts that makes me suspicious of him was just me overthinking because, like he said, I am the only woman he loves but I never even knew that he really does hiding a dark secret from me," she sighed heavily as she felt her heart ache with every skips between on its beat her senses numbing at how her body feels lifeless at the immense despair she's experiencing. "YN is an asshole, Tzuyu; I'm warning you right now to stay away from him," Nayeon cautioned. "And as you said, we might not know... maybe he has other girls out there that he's keeping with him at the same time as you," she said, referring to the part where she acquired that Tzuyu had already noticed some strange and suspicious behaviors from you that made it appear as if you were hiding something from her.

"To be sure, starting today, I suggest we keep a watch on him at all times," Nayeon says before helping Tzuyu rise up by offering her free hand to the heartbroken lady. Nayeon swayed several strands of hair that blocks off her face to make Tzuyu seem presentable and prepared to greet the customers entering the business where she works and continue performing her job properly again. Before she lets go of the Taiwanese woman, Nayeon said one last thing to her before they parted ways. "So Tzuyu, are you in with me?" Nayeon said, folding her arms, awaiting the younger's response to her invitation to assist her in carrying out the vengeance plot she had for you.

Tzuyu then looked at Nayeon as she lifted her available hand to instigate a handshake. She stared at the hand for a few more seconds before coming up with the finalized answer she made up in her mind from rewinding everything Nayeon has told her about you being a goddamn cheater and a two-timer to her and to your ex-wife Jeongyeon.

----------END OF PART 1---------- -🐰🐶🐿🐹🦄🐧🦅🐯🦌-

#twiceot9 #twicekpop #twice #trwiceoneshot #twiceau #twicexmreader #twicexmalereader #nayeonxmreader #jeongyeonxmreader #momoxmreader #sanaxmreader #jihyoxmreader #minaxmreader #dahyunxmreader #chaeyoungxreader #tzuyuxreader #kpoponeshot #kpopau

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r0-boat · 2 years

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@bellafragolina 's oc Renee x Ingo

Picture Perfect Picnic!

Thank you for volunteering your OC as my little test subject in this. I hope I did them Justice :)

-----

Free time like this was rare.

So Renee was always happy to spend time with her boyfriend whenever she could. Like today, Ingo's day off from the Battle Subway and the traveling Photographer, who just happened to be in Unova to find and capture the photograph of a rumored gold Volcarona. Sitting together on a strawberry blanket stretched out on the green grass, the sun on her skin and the wind in her brown hair, and her arm around Ingo's. Occasionally leaning into and snuggling against his chest, which he was happy to reciprocate, putting his arm around her and holding her clothes, just enjoying each other's company. At the same time, their Pokémon had their supervised playtime running in the grass and being, well…Pokemon. Teddy Playing with Nile pretending that they were there, much larger evolutions. Only to be chased by Ingo's much larger Haxorus.

Ingo could not stop staring, his heart skipping a beat every time Renee would smile and laugh. With the sun making her eyes sparkle and the wind making her hair soft and full. oh, to have a physical memory like this

*Click*

The sound of her camera had her turning her head to see Ingo with her precious camera. Her warm brown eyes met his steel gray ones; he had a slight smile on his face.

" My dear, my apologies; you look so beautiful I couldn't help myself."

Renee's heart thumps in her chest as if it were her first meeting him. How can a man make her fall twice like this? She'll never know.

"o-oh." it was all she could say, the heat rushing to her cheeks as she tried (and failed)to hide her smile. Her focus leaves Ingo for just a minute, trying to regain her composure and find a good comeback; no one flushes her and gets away with it.

Ingo's eyes dart back to the camera, and his eyes widen at the picture. Before she could say anything else, Renee heard her boyfriend laugh at the freshly taken picture.

"What's so funny!?" she yelled, motioning her hands, asking Ingo to give her the camera.

Ingo reassures her, "Don't worry, love, it's not you. It's just…."

Renee looked at the photo that Ingo had taken. She had to admit it was pretty nice. However, there was something else she had to squint her eyes to see; in the background, the figures of three Pokémon running around, none other than Teddy looking straight at the camera, doing the best pose he could manage while still in their game of chase.

"Renee, please, can I please get this framed?" Ingo begged.

She clasped her hand, clenching her chest. 'stop! Stop being cute, damn it.'

How the hell can she say no to that face?

She couldn't help but smirk at the idea of Emmet throwing a fit at her picture being in their house. Annoying him in some way is always a plus.

" yes, but first -" she points the camera at him, immediately taking a picture.

" Payback for taking my photo without asking me."

A flustered Ingo immediately tried to argue back. He wasn't ready! He won't look nearly as good as she did! But Renee wouldn't hear it.

" Don't care~! This is going to be my new phone screen~! She said in a sing-song voice.

#Sfw #oc x canon #Ro.Oc writings #Pokemon #Submas #Pokemon Ingo #subway boss ingo

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alsjeblieft-zeg · 3 months

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045 of 2024

Created by sofay

Choose: The ability to speak any language or play any instrument?

Languages, hands down. There are a few instruments I'd like to play, but I wouldn't need to know them all, for real.

Are you planning to spend a large sum of money any time soon?

No. I just got paid yesterday and half of it went to my savings.

Do you prefer listening to music through speakers or headphones?

Headphones, it's like I'm inside the sound.

The last time you injured yourself: How did it happen?

Stupid way, I burned my finger with a lighter while doing an illegal thing at work lol.

If you met yourself, would you befriend them?

I don't think so, but who knows. Life is surprising sometimes.

In your opinion, what's the best cure for the hiccups?

I'm still looking for one because I get them too frequently and it's not even funny anymore.

The shoes you wore today: What do they look like?

Work shoes, steel-toed, without shoelaces.

If you have a garage, do you tend to just fill it with junk?

I don't have a garage.

Would you prefer to live in an apartment, house or other?

I would love to have a house with a big garden, but nope, I have to share walls with neighbours.

The room you're in currently: Does it have carpet, tiles or other?

Tiles. It's normal here to have tiles in the living room.

How cold are you currently?

Not cold at all, rather the opposite.

Do you ever feel that people don't actually know The Real You?

I don't think about it. I'm always myself, you either love it or hate it.

What's your current occupation? Would you change it, if you could?

I work in a rolling stock company and I build trains, and no, I would never ever change it to anything else.

Are you wearing perfume today? What does it smell of?

I got some peach-scented spray at work; so that's it.

The last time you cried: Why were you upset? (Or happy, as the case may be)

The last time was last year, my cat passed away. It's too light to say "upset" in the case like this.

When did you last have toothache?

Long time ago and I hope it stays that way.

What are you planning to have for dinner tonight? (Or what did you have)

I know there are some plans for pork, but 1. I don't like pork, and 2. I'm not hungry at all.

What's your favourite hot drink?

Hot chocolate.

When was the last time you sneezed?

Yesterday? I was cleaning the dust, so that's why.

If you had the day off tomorrow, what would you do with your time?

Tomorrow is Saturday.

Do you prefer laptops or computers?

Laptops, you can move them.

Does your mobile phone have a touch screen?

Well, in the smartphone era it's hard to find a phone without touch screen.

Name one food item you eat fairly often:

Soups.

Do you prefer talking on a mobile or landline?

Landline is obsolete these days, and it's a pity, because I liked landlines.

The last thing you took a photo of: What was it?

An old entrance to my factory.

Do you prefer writing with pens or pencils?

Pens, the smoother, the better.

Name one place you'd like to visit as soon as possible:

Poland again.

Name one song you could listen to over and over:

Focus by Vildhjarta.

Has anyone ever used a pick up line on you? What did they say?

No, I use pick up lines.

What's one good thing that happened today?

I worked hard and had a good nap.

Name the last good movie you watched:

I don't watch movies.

Are you any good at cooking? What's your speciality?

I'm decent, my specialty is soups.

Do you prefer plain, coloured or patterned socks?

Doesn't matter, as long as they're clean.

When it's Winter, do you wish it could just be warm already?

All the time.

When you wake, what is it that you think of most?

Oh no.

Are you home alone currently?

No, there's four of us (yes, cat included).

When was the last time you gave up on something / someone?

Long time ago.

#survey #random survey #q&a survey

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starlostastronaut · 10 months

Text

DAY 06 | STORIES TO BE TOLD

PAIRING: han jisung x reader

GENRE: idol au (jisung is a soloist), not angst, but bittersweet?, ambiguous ending

WC: 1.14k

CW: idol trainee!reader, implied felix/reader

PROMPT: coming back after years apart

here it isss! to the person who asked for no angst... well guess what lol (pls dont kill me ilyy). i remember having a great idea for this when i wrote the masterlist so naturally i forgot it 😭 but i have this instead. tbh i think i spent more time on backstory than the actualy story but oh well. and yes, i did put felix/reader in the story, but you can read it as past relationship if you want ;) enjoy <3

title from laughter lines - bastille

general masterlist here

<< previous | mctc masterlist | next >>

Jisung looked out of the window again. His head was bobbing to the rhythm of the song playing through his headphones, and he watched the landscapes and cities pass by as the train made its way back to Seoul. He looked at his phone to check the time again. Exactly three minutes went by since he last checked. With a frustrated groan, he sank into his seat. The train was too slow, and Jisung was starting to regret deciding to ride it in the first place. He was visiting some of his friends down in Busan while also filming a music video, and against his better judgment, he decided to take the train back. He hoped he would have lesser chances of getting recognized, since no one would expect an idol on a train of all places. So there he was, tormented to several hours on a train. Normally, he wouldn't really mind, though. He had his beanie, headphones, and mask on, looking unrecognizable even with his manager sitting opposite him. He had his peace and quiet. Normally, he would be happy to relax on the train, but not today. Today he was seeing you and that made him extremely restless and giddy with excitement.

You and Jisung went way back. You were trainees at the same company, which is how you met. Your first conversation was a fight over the last piece of cheesecake at the company café. Having agreed to share it, you began talking, and ever since then, you became inseparable. You and Jisung would wait for each other after vocal lessons, he would give you pointers on your rapping, and in return you helped him with the JYPE basic dance routine. You had this symbiotic relationship that worked really well between you. Until Jisung's debut date approached. He would spend more time in the studio, going over his performance over and over again. You saw him less and less. And then he debuted, and you haven't seen him at all for a month because the public immediately fell in love with him, and as the new sensation, he was pushed from one music show to another. But he promised you that when you debuted as well and the initial whirlwind of chaos calmed down, it would go back to how it was. Except none of you thought of the fact that just a few weeks before your group was set to debut, you had been kicked off. The company never gave you a good enough reason, just some talk about “not fitting the group's vibe and concept” . You took it hard - harder than anyone expected. With your dreams being crushed, you packed all your things and moved to Australia. Jisung would never find out if it weren’t for another trainee named Chris, who helped you sort everything out. You didn’t even get to say goodbye. Not that you didn't want to, but Jisung and his success was just another painful reminder of the fact that you failed, and you didn't need that at that time.

In Australia, your life has gone pretty well. You applied to college, got your first boyfriend - a very sweet guy named Felix - and slowly healed from your failure back in Korea. Meanwhile, Jisung was busy with his idol career. You watched him thrive via social media once the pain eased a little. You even bought some of the albums. Felix convinced you to get tickets for Jisung's concert last year, but you never told anyone you went there. You did it mostly for your boyfriend anyway, who, as it turned out, was Jisung's fan. He almost lost his mind when he found out you and Jisung used to be best friends. But despite all of that, you never tried to contact Jisung, not even when he was in Sydney for his first tour. You were too scared of his reaction. After alll, you ran away without a proper goodbye. And Jisung never made contact either anyway, so you took it as a sign of your friendship truly being over.

Which eventually brought Jisung here, three years after he spoke to you for the last time. While he was in Busan, Chris messaged him to tell him that you were visiting Seoul in the next few days. Jisung spent a lot of time thinking about why Chris told him that. At first, he felt bitter and jealous, because clearly you've kept in contact with Chris but not him. His second thought was that he had to message you because he hadn't seen you in forever. His third thought was fear, because if you hadn't tried to contact him all this time, why would you want to see him now? But after two phone calls with Chris, he somehow found the courage to ask for your number and send the first text. He did it right before he went to sleep, knowing that otherwise he would be checking his phone every five seconds.

You left him on read for almost the whole day, carefully weighing the pros and cons. Ultimately, you decided to agree to his offer, the longing to see your former best friend again winning over the fear. So there you were, sitting in a small café alone, the half-empty cup of coffee in front of you slowly going cold. You almost decided to give up when Jisung came stumbling through the door. Your breath hitched in your throat. He looked the same as he did back then, but older and more mature. His hair was different, too. He spotted you almost immediately, rushing to your table.

“Hi! Hi, sorry I'm late, I-” He stopped and looked at you properly. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you replied, smiling as you watched him sit down. He still had that nervous smile and the joyous spark in his eyes. You decided to break the tension by asking the most trivial, most hated question. But in your case, it only made sense. “How have you been?”

At first, it was awkward; both of you were unsure how to act with each other. But with every new topic, the conversation flowed more easily, until it felt like old times. You told him about Australia, about your time with Felix and about your life there. He told you stories from the tour, he told you about the people he's met and about his career. By the end of the afternoon, it was as if you had never left. You realized you missed this. You missed him. Suddenly, you didn't know how you managed to go three years without talking to him.

Jisung nervously checked his watch. “Look, I need to go in a moment, but I have the day off tomorrow?” he asked, gathering his things and taking out his wallet to pay the bill.

You smiled. “Yeah. I would like that.”

taglist: @stayconnecteed @saintriots @vivioluh @ivaneedssleep @jazziwritesthings

#( all works⎯ 🗃 )#( moony's countdown to christmas⎯ 📂 )#stray kids x reader #han jisung x reader #han jisung

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runnning-outof-time · 2 years

Text

Dear Theodora | Tommy Shelby x Reader

PART 3 of the Girl Dad Series…read more HERE.

Request: yes by anonymous

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader

Summary: In which Tommy tries to find the right words to say about the birth of his first daughter.

Warnings: mentions of war

Word Count: 3211

A/N: I am absolutely in love with this family I’ve created in this series. Girl dad Tommy had my entire heart. Also it’s fitting that I’m posting this on Letter Writing Day. This is based off of the song Dear Theodosia from Hamilton. I’ll include the link below Enjoy! :)

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future stories similar to this one!

"Mail's here, boys," a soldier, who everyone called Jones, announced as he walked into the part of the trench that the rest of his company was occupying. Incoherent noises were made in response as Jones began passing the letters out to their rightful receivers. "Ah, Shelby, you've got one today," he commented, a grin forming on his face as he handed an envelope to Tommy.

"Thanks," Tommy mumbled as he flipped the envelope in his hands so that he could see who'd written to him.

"Read it out loud, Tom!" another soldier in the company, Matthews, called out before Tommy could open it. Tommy stopped what he was doing to look at the other man, his brows furrowed slightly.

"Yeah, Shelby, let us hear what's going on!" Jones chimed in before the other soldiers started shouting out their agreeances.

"Ok, ok," he conceded, waving their incessant pestering off as he finally got to open the envelope. It was commonplace for the soldiers to read their letters out loud when they were sitting around. It provided some sort of escape from the hell they were currently going through. He cleared his throat as he unfolded the paper. His eyes danced across the page quickly before he started from the beginning:

Dear Tommy,

I hope that my letter makes it to you in good time, and that you are able to read it in good spirits. Being able to spend some time with you those few weeks ago really helped push the ache in my heart away. It reminded me that the love we share is still very much real and has not been tested during this time we've spent apart.

I am writing to you mainly because I have just received some news that I felt you'd also like to know. I'm pregnant, Tommy...

"Oh shit," Jones called out, his eyes widening as a smile broke onto his face. "Congrats, Shelby!" he cheered then, standing from his spot so that he could go clap his comrade on the back. "You're gonna be a father, mate," he said once he stepped away.

There were some other surprised reactions from the rest of the company, and slowly but surely, they all made their way over to him to offer their congratulations'. Tommy was only half in his mind to thank them. The other half of him was reeling...surprised by the information that (Y/N) had just hit him with. He wished that he could have been by her side the moment she found out. He wished that he wasn't currently in another country, fighting a war. He wished that there was a guarantee that he'd make it home to her.

It wasn't until later on in the evening that Tommy was able to read the rest of the letter that (Y/N) had sent him. He slouched down against the wall of the trench and dug the letter out of the inside pocket of his uniform's jacket. After looking both ways and making sure he was alone, he opened the letter and continued to read it:

I'm pregnant, Tommy. I'm sure this comes as a surprise to you as it did to me, and I'm sorry for adding this onto your already long list of worries. I want you to know that I'm keeping the baby. There is a reason that this has happened to me; to us. I can only hope that you feel the same way.

Sending all of my love until I can see you again,

(Y/N)

Tommy knew instantly that he felt the same way as (Y/N) did. There was a reason why this had happened to them; why they were going to bring a baby...a little version of them, into the world. He also knew what he had to do now. He was going to propose to (Y/N) the second that he saw her again. This decision wasn't brought upon by this news, but rather it was solidified by it. He knew now that (Y/N) was the woman that he wanted to be with for the rest of his life.

He folded the letter and stuffed it back into his inner pocket before he began digging around in his haversack so that he could find the paper that he'd put in there earlier. When he reached it, he pulled it out, thankful that the pen was still clipped on it. He then brought his knees up so that he could rest the paper against them and begin writing his response to (Y/N).

"Shelby! Mail from the post!" a soldier named Trevor called as he dropped an envelope down onto Tommy's lap. Tommy nodded in thanks before he flipped the envelope around and began to tear it open. He'd been moved into a different company over the few months that had passed and, thankfully, this group didn't care much about hearing details of their company-mates' private lives. So he stayed in his spot and unfolded the letter, rather happy that he could read it to himself. His heart fluttered the second he saw her familiar handwriting.

Dear Tommy,

I figured I'd write to you because I've just received some exciting news. First, I want to apologize for these letters being so few and far between each other. Things have been mad over here and I have been stretching out my time between helping your family with the shop and volunteering at the orphanage - it is so sad to see the number of children there increasing each day, and if there is one thing I can vow, it is that I will never allow that to happen to our child.

Your Aunt Polly truly has a gift...she was able to tell me that we are having a baby girl. This was not confirmed by medical means, and I don't know if it even could be, but I have a strong feeling in my heart that Polly is correct. It feels like we're going to have a daughter. My mum has told me that there have been so many similarities that she's seen in me from when she was pregnant with me. It only makes sense, right? Oh, and by the way...she's finally come around to the idea. She's thrilled now.

I wanted to include some names in the letter that you might like. I think I've settled on one, but I wanted you to know the options.

First, I've thought about Philippa Grace. Philippa means 'lover of horses' and felt that it was fitting for you. Another is Daisy Mae, which would obviously be after the flower that you gave me on one of our first dates. Finally, and I think that this one might be it, is Theodora Rose. My mum's told me that Theodora means 'gift of God', and I really feel like she's a gift to the both of us. Rose would be for my mother, who's been helping me with all of these changes while you're away. It feels right for her, Tommy, and I hope that you'll agree.

Sending all of my love until I can see you again,

(Y/N)

P.S. I wear your ring every day. When I look down at it, I get excited, knowing that I am going to spend forever with you.

Tommy couldn't help but smile as he finished reading the letter. He knew that there would be no changing her mind now that it was made up, but he truly didn't need to. Theodora Rose did feel right. She was his gift, his motivation to get to the other side of this war and make it back home so that he could be with his family again.

He also couldn't help but chuckle at her postnote. He wasn't able to wait until he saw her again to propose. Instead, he asked her in his letter responding to her initial announcement, and he'd enclosed his gold ring as a symbol of his seriousness about it. He had to admit that it still felt rather weird not having it on his pinky, but at the same time he knew that it now had a better home.

Tommy wasn't able to write a letter back that night. Lights out was called early because they were getting ready to go on a march the next day. He laid his head down against his haversack and shut his eyes, his mind swimming with all of the information he'd just received.

Tommy made his way onto one of the final trains that were loading up from the station's platform. Armistice had finally been reached, and the war was declared as finished. He was about to embark on the trip back to Birmingham.

He took one of the empty seats by the window and sat his belongings on his lap. Having a seat to himself was a hope, but it was one that surely wasn't going to be fulfilled.

No less than a minute later, a man sat down next to him. They both nodded at each other, a silent greeting before going about what they were doing. Out of the corner of his eye, Tommy saw the man pull a notepad out of his haversack. He then flipped to the next available page before he began writing. Seeing this made Tommy think of something he could do to pass time on the trip.

"Mind if I use a piece of your paper?" he asked the man, making him stop writing and look up.

"No," he shook his head before he flipped a few pages to get to the back of the book. He then ripped the last page out. "Here," he said, handing it over to Tommy.

"Thanks," Tommy responded, accepting the paper before he fished a pen out of his uniform's pocket. One of the necessities of rising the ranks to Sergeant Major was having a pen on you at all times. You never knew what it'd be needed for. "Kept yourself a journal?" he asked then, watching as the man flipped back to the page he was previously working on. So far he'd written the date on the header line, one sign that he would be detailing the events of his day.

"Yeah," the man nodded, looking to Tommy once more, "although I'd rather forget the things I've seen," he added in a solemn tone before dropping his head down once more.

Tommy silently agreed before he focused his attention back on the blank piece of paper in front of him. He uncapped the pen and adjusted his belongings so that they'd create a table for him to write on. Before he began, he looked out at the passing scenery, knowing that within a matter of time it would begin to look like the dust-filled streets of Birmingham. Home.

He then looked back at the paper, racking his brain as he tried to think of what to write. His daughter entered his mind then. She'd been born a month ago, and Tommy swore that he could rouse tears to his eyes just by thinking of the letter that (Y/N) sent to him announcing her birth. His girls were the only things that made him feel that his heart was still beating. And in just a short time, he'd be home with them again.

Dear Theodora,

What to say to you?

I wasn't there when you came into the world, and it broke my heart, but I'm finally coming home now. I cannot wait to see you and your mother. You both are the sole reason I continued to fight for this day to come.

I never thought that I'd have a daughter, that I'd have someone who is a part of me. Domestic life was never my style until your mother came into my life. Now I'll be dedicating every single day I spend alive to you. I will bleed and fight for you. I will make things right for you. I will lay a foundation for you and build something that will be worthy for you.

My father wasn't around, but I swear that I will be around for you. And I'll do whatever it takes to keep you and your mother safe, even if that means making a million mistakes. Pride is not the word I'm looking for when I think of you. There is so much more inside me now. I fought for this day to come. I fought to see you and your mother again, and now that this day is upon us, I cannot wait to see you.

I will give the world to you, Theodora. I promise you that. And I know that you'll blow us all away.

Tommy looked over the letter one last time before capping his pen. He then folded the paper and tucked it into the inner pocket of his uniform's jacket that held all of the other letters that (Y/N) had sent him about their daughter. He couldn't wait to see his family again; to meet his daughter for the very first time. He couldn't wait to be home.

"Last stop! All off!" the conductor called as the train came to a stop next to the platform. The sun was starting to fade, but Tommy was still able to see the sea of people waiting for their loved one's arrival. He stood along with the other soldiers in his train car and exited the row that he was sitting in. The man who'd taken the seat next to him had gotten off at an earlier stop, so he was able to leave fairly quickly without getting clogged up with the rest of the men.

He tapped the part of his jacket where the letters were stored, making sure that they were still present, before he began walking slowly out of the train car. He kept rehearsing what he'd say to (Y/N), feeling confident with his formal proposal.

What he wasn't prepared for was his mind going blank the second he stepped onto the train's platform. His eyes widened in worry, but before he could panic, they fell onto (Y/N). Somehow, amidst the sea of people, she managed to be just a few steps away from him. He desperately hoped that his words would return to him as he watched her run to where he was standing.

"Welcome home," she said with tears in her eyes as she wrapped her arms around his neck the second she was able to. She choked back her tears as she hugged him tightly, reveling in the feeling of being in his arms again. "I missed you, Tommy," she said once they pulled away. Tommy felt a pang in his heart at the sight of the tears in her eyes.

He knew what he had to do. A smile played on his lips as he took hold of her hands and dropped down to one knee. (Y/N)'s smile widened as she realized what he was doing, and she waited on baited breath for what he would say. But he didn't say anything. No words good enough could come to Tommy's mind as he stared up at her. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, making like he was about to say something only to abandon it completely.

(Y/N) didn't need to hear him say anything though. She knew what he was doing. Hell, she was already promised to him...the gold ring, that he stole from a merchant in town when he was younger, still sat proudly on her finger, symbolizing to the world that she was taken. So she spared him of his inability to speak and answered anyway. "Yes," she told him, nodding her head then.

Tommy felt terrible. He'd fucked up his proposal to her after making her wait months for it. He couldn't help but laugh though as he stood from the ground and scooped her up into his arms, making her laugh as he held her tightly against him. "Thank you," he breathed before kissing her passionately. (Y/N) smiled against his lips, relishing in the feeling of them against hers again.

"You already asked me to marry you, remember?" she asked him once they pulled away and she was standing again. "And I already said yes," she added before raising her left hand to show the ring she proudly wore. Tommy couldn't help but chuckle at her statement.

"I'll get you a better one soon, I promise," he told her before he took hold of her cheeks and kissed her again.

"Would you like to meet your daughter, Tommy?" she asked him then, her eyes shining as she pulled back to look at him. He felt a lump form in his throat at the mention of Theodora, and his speech was taken from him again. All he was able to do was nod as he pushed back the tears that were threatening to form. "Come with me," (Y/N) told him, taking hold of his hand so that she could lead him over to where her mother was standing, holding the baby in her arms. "Meet Theodora Rose Shelby," she introduced the two as her mother gently handed the baby to her. She then moved closer to Tommy, who looked absolutely amazed.

"She's beautiful, (Y/N)," he breathed as he reached out to gently run his thumb down the baby's cheek.

"She has your eyes," (Y/N) stated, a smile on her face as she watched Tommy interact with their daughter, "and she's been blessed with your head of hair too...mum told me that I was bald when I came out," she added with a little giggle.

"She was," Rose, (Y/N)'s mother, chimed in, making the three of them laugh.

"Would you like to hold her, Tommy?" (Y/N) asked, looking over at him with a smile on her face.

"Can I?" Tommy asked, wanting to kick himself for how naive he must've sounded.

"Of course," (Y/N) laughed softly at his question, "she's your daughter," she added before she carefully handed the baby over to him. He took her into his arms, cradling her gently as he marveled at how little she was.

"Hello, Theodora," he greeted her in a soft voice, running his thumb across her cheek again. He couldn't believe how much like both he and (Y/N) she looked. She was the perfect mix. "I'll make things right for you, my love," he promised her, smiling when she reached her little hand out towards his fingers and let out a coo that sounded like music to his ears. He glanced over at (Y/N) then, his smile widening when he saw that she was wiping the tears away from her cheeks and watching on with a wide smile of her own.

This moment alone made the years of hell that he'd just endured worth it. He was finally home with his family, and he was going to do everything and anything in his power to make something that he'd be proud enough of to hand down to Theodora. Everything that he did from that moment on would be for her and for (Y/N).

Tagged: @mgcllovdrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @peaky-cillian @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @december16-1991 @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @lovemissyhoneybee @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @raincoffeeandfandoms @itscheybaby @gypsy-girl-08

MASTERLIST

Listen to the song Dear Theodosia:

HERE.

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic

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wincore · 3 years

Text

field day | jung sungchan

pairing: sungchan x fem!reader

synopsis: when you, as cheer captain, are best friends with the pride and joy of the soccer team, rumors are bound to fly around.

genre: high school au, soccer au, bff2l, fluff

words: 7.5k

warnings: language, jung “the risk i took was calculated but man am i bad at math” sungchan

request: sungchan + ball + “ everyone is looking at us. is that a good or a bad thing? ” (from the first option) ^__^

song recs: after school - weeekly / pleaser - wallows / some - bol4 / sweet talk - saint motel / love so sweet - cherry bullet

a/n: i tried recalling some hs memories for this and im hoping i wasnt the only one that went through the “shipped with a random dude” ordeal LOL. i haven’t written shorter fics in a while so i’m glad i got to. tq for requesting, lovepie <33

In high school, peer pressure tends to come in different forms. For you, it’s taken the shape of this.

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

You look around your classmates, scanning each and every face chanting with glee like you’re a star player scoring the winning point. The tall figure shifts beside you, glancing at you like a blinking idiot. You’re not even on the losing team but it feels just as frustrating.

You glare at the boy beside you. The trouble is Jung Sungchan. The trouble has always been Jung Sungchan.

“Come on!” Chenle calls with a teasing grin from the buzzing crowd. The little shit. It’s getting hotter with each minute you spend by the green soccer field and its dusty chalked lines, just at the tip of the bleachers. You didn’t even get enough time to breathe before you were surrounded, the soccer team pushing a stumbling Sungchan onto you. It’s too sunny for this today.

“The star soccer player gets a kiss from the lead cheerleader after a winning game! That’s the rule.” Chenle announces.

Sungchan looks at you and you turn to him, the both of you looking at each other like fish out of water. Even though you’ve clarified at least a hundred times that you’re just friends, your peers don’t seem to be satisfied. (“Famous last words,” they say.)

“No,” you say, firmly.

“No,” Sungchan agrees, nodding his head wisely.

“Don’t copy me,” you say, smacking his chest, and a quiet ‘oof’ escapes his mouth.

The fact that you’ve been best friends since Sungchan offered you a light green crayon in elementary school just fuels the idea that you have to date. There’s this difference between elementary school kids teasing and high school kids teasing—it was so much easier back when boys were afraid of cooties from girls. It was innocent too. Now, it’s more of nudges and sly grins, teasing with unnecessary innuendo. (What else do you expect from teenagers experiencing puberty?) It doesn’t stop you from being best friends though. Sungchan still visits on Fridays to get on your mom’s nerves and help you with homework (or try to). You still have all the little trinkets he’s gifted you over the years and the lock to his phone is still your birthday. You’re best friends and strictly that.

When you got into the same middle school though is when it started going downhill. Holding his hand was awkward, touching him in any way was awkward and god forbid you compliment him on something. The kids around you would run across the halls saying “(name) likes Sungchan!” or the other way around sometimes. Heathens, the lot of them. But at the very least, he wasn’t too fazed and you wonder how he could be that even-tempered. If it was just you feeling that way, then maybe you did like him more than he did you.

You shake it off.

Sungchan’s much more grown now and at least a foot taller since his awkward adolescent years; he looks handsomer too but you wouldn’t be caught dead saying it out loud. After all, it’s only going to spark another debate on the anonymous school forum. (“(name) finds Jung Sungchan attractive, they’re totally dating.” “I knew it. A boy and a girl can’t be friends, especially if they’re both good looking.”) If you’re being honest, you hate the rumours so much—it’s one of the reasons, apart from puberty, stopping you from being as close as before. However, you do understand that this is how the passage of time works. You’re not going to be spending all of your time with each other, yes, but you still regard him as important. Your life is too busy now, with exams and practice—and you’d think a busy bee would get some honey as reward.

Sungchan’s curls stick to his forehead, unruly after he wiped at them with a towel. The sunlight plays with his eyes when he looks at you intently and you shrug. The smell of sweat is starting to make you nauseous. You remember that you too need to take a shower.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you mumble.

“Not today?” He asks.

You shake your head. “The girls have a plan.”

It’s not just the sweat. Or the crowds. You don’t like being here at all. There’s one more problem with this place.

You hate soccer.

And by hate, you mean you despise it. Like you’ll throw up at the sight of it. What’s so riveting about a bunch of smelly, sweaty guys excited about chasing a patterned ball? You’ve tried to understand it but every time your dad explains the rules, you find yourself zoning out of whatever alien language he speaks.

Sungchan has been the closest to getting you to understand the game and even then, you refused to learn. It’s not like you’re society’s definition of girly—but you’re not a tomboy either. The school has granted you the “ice queen with a warm interior” stereotype so you’ll just go with that. To be honest, you’re just a little more awkward at open affection than your friends. (And Sungchan has the “friendly beagle” stereotype which you’ll agree is partly true. He’s more of a retriever though, with that size.) It’s just funny how you can never seem to know who you are but other people see so clearly.

You hurry up to the locker rooms and hope for a better evening than this afternoon.

The sky burns blue and you wipe the sweat off your brow once you step out of the changing room. Cooling off from your shower has gone to waste. Adjusting your school skirt, you take your usual strides to the school gates.

Ryujin seems to be showing Yuna a very flamboyant dance move while the latter hypes her up. Ryujin is in her gym uniform because she has no care for her reputation apparently, but she makes it work. Yuna’s about to show her own move when she notices you and waves at you vigorously enough to make you jog towards her and stop embarrassing herself in front of the after school crowd. But then again, she’s too cute for that.

“We got bored waiting for you,” Yuna explains, voice hoarse from her cold. Poor thing wasn’t let into performing because of it. “Do you wanna see our cool new move? Ryujin came up with it!”

Ryujin rolls her eyes. “You’re trying to advertise me to (name) so she can recruit me into cheerleading, aren’t you?”

You smile and cross your arms, facing Yuna who’s been caught mid-act. She smiles sheepishly and pats your shoulder like she just said a funny joke.

“Actually…” You begin and Ryujin holds up her arms in a cross.

“No. Never. I’m already part of the hip-hop dance club.”

“I was going to say that I’ll join you instead.”

Yuna gasps in betrayal, big eyes widening, and Ryujin grins before sticking her tongue out and potentially ruining her image with that expression. She doesn’t care, however.

“Anyway, I can’t wait to get to college and join a dance club.” Ryujin looks at the two of you excitedly. “I keep getting snaps from Yeji and feel so jealous.”

Yuna pouts. “Don’t be so happy about leaving me.”

“Aw, is the baby afraid of not getting any more sisterly doting?” Ryujin teases and you laugh at the disgruntled expression on Yuna’s face.

“Don’t worry,” Ryujin continues with a sly grin. “Taehyun’s here to keep you company for another year.”

Yuna turns red in the face, a high pitched complaint emitting from her throat. “I told you to keep quiet about that!”

“Oh, what’s this?” You wiggle your eyebrows. “We’re starting boy talk early today.”

Yuna huffs. “At least, mine’s just a crush. I don’t know what relationship status: complicated you have going on with Mr. Soccer Captain.”

You flush hotly. “There’s no relationship status to be complicated about! Seriously, why does everyone think we’re a thing?”

“You’re cheer captain and he’s soccer captain,” Ryujin answers logically. “Plus, you’re best friends.”

“You have a lot of sexual tension,” Yuna answers honestly.

You make a face, slipping your arms into theirs and pulling them along the sidewalk. You better get something to drink before the sky starts to turn purple from pink tinged blue.

“Ooh, another desperate attempt from (name) to not get teased,” Ryujin leans back to whisper to Yuna.

You stop walking. “Wait. Where are we going?”

Yuna shakes her head. “I’ll lead the way.”

Skipping over the concrete sidewalk, you laugh at your friends and their stories (read: Ryujin gushing over Yeji’s college dance club and Yuna’s newfound crush on Taehyun). The blue sky has tinged orange by now but it’s the sort of colour that sits in between more significant timeframes, like night and evening. Passing by a city square, you eye the people with wonder. A girl in a pink skirt skateboards smoothly over the concrete, her boyfriend filming her with a loving smile.

“We’re here!” Yuna announces.

You look around the large open plaza, with people of all ages and in different attires trying out skateboarding and rollerblading over the grey concrete. It’s been getting popular lately, with idol pop stars taking to it too but you never knew there was this big a community. There seems to be a few stalls renting out skateboards too. The wind caresses your hair, evening cool settling in nicely on your skin. The sky is purple but it’s lit up with the city buildings and street lamps flickering on. It’s not a bad day at all.

Someone catches your attention. A boy that sticks out like a sore thumb everywhere he goes.

“Sungchan?!”

Your eyes somehow always settle on his figure, tall and standing out in the crowd of teenagers. He clutches his blue bag, the one he’s had since third grade, close to his chest and looks more like a tourist in this place than a frequent visitor. He’s not the only one in school uniform now that you’re here.

“(name)!”

You hate how you love the way his face lights up when he sees you. You’re not actually into him. It’s your friends brainwashing you.

“I was going to invite you,” Sungchan says, a sorry smile on his face.

Ryujin and Yuna frown at each other but you can’t exactly ask the reason for it.

“Isn’t it great we had the same plans?” he beams at the three of you.

Yuna suppresses a smile and you wonder why. It’s not like your friends would know he’d be here—you’d know first as best friend.

"How did you guys come across this place?" He asks, eyes round with curiosity.

"Somi's Tiktok," Yuna answers, smiling. "We thought she works here but if she really was, guys would be swarming this place."

Ryujin raises her eyebrows. "Speaking of which, I can clearly see why there are so many girls here."

Sungchan beams, turning to you for affirmation and when you don't give him any, he drops his grin to a more polite smile.

“I don’t work at the stalls though,” he answers. “I’ve just been here a few times.”

“You’re trying to learn, aren’t you?” Ryujin asks, raising an eyebrow.

He nods. However, you furrow your eyebrows at her. How does she know? Eyes widening, you realize it must be the school forum. You remember reading a post about a student wanting to learn skateboarding and the wording felt familiar but you didn’t think much. How they figured it out, you will never know.

“Oh! Oh, I think my nose is bleeding. Oh god.” Yuna sniffs vehemently, her finger at her nose. “I think I’m going to need Ryujin to get me to a clinic.”

Linking her arm through Ryujin’s, Yuna makes an apologetic expression and runs off into a particularly crowded area.

You blink. The realization dawns.

"They just left me," you tell him, exasperated. "How could they just leave me?"

He shrugs. "My team left me at a rival school's field once."

Great. Your last outing before midterms and your friends have abandoned you. If this is the case, you wonder why they complain about you spending so much time with Sungchan and allegedly ignoring them.

You regain a sense of your surroundings and turn to him. "Wait. They really left you?"

He nods diligently, eyes trained upwards as he tries to recall the memory. "I told you, didn’t I? On the plus side though, I made friends with the opposite team."

"That's so… cute."

Your cheeks heat up at saying it out loud. If Sungchan is affected by it in any way, he doesn't show it. Instead, he has his usual smile on.

“Do you wanna try?” he asks. “Skateboarding. Or rollerblading but I personally don’t recommend that.”

He curls his lips, shaking his head slightly. You laugh. Of course this beanpole has trouble balancing on skates.

"I- I figured you'd be good at skateboarding. Since, you know, you're so balanced and all."

You raise an eyebrow. "You wanna add skateboarding to your resume or something?"

"Yeah, that and the ability to imitate dog sounds. Wanna see?"

"No, thanks. I’ll pray this weekend to cure your furry behaviour."

Before he can respond, you’re interrupted by a whirlwind of colours and excited calls. A few girls run up to the two of you, younger and probably in middle school, flocking to Sungchan like bees to honey. Never in your life have you felt so ignored as in this singular moment.

You blink, turning to Sungchan who looks like a rather helpless, flustered eye of the hurricane. The winds don't seem to be stopping any time soon.

You clear your throat trying to get their attention.

"Wow, you brought your girlfriend?" One of the girls exclaims, sounding disappointed.

The other girls make similar whines of disappointment and you have half the heart to whack them over the head and tell them to focus on their academics instead of boys.

"You're so lucky to have him as your boyfriend," a girl comments, round eyes brimming with jealousy.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you declare sharply.

Sungchan looks at you with his doe eyes, blinking cartoonishly. You nudge him with your elbow.

“Yeah!” He agrees, with far too much gusto to be believable. “I’m not (name)’s boyfriend. I have no idea why everyone keeps saying that.”

“Let’s go, babe,” you say, resisting the urge to stick your tongue out at the girls. They’re younger than you and you have high school dignity, you remind yourself.

Slipping your hand into his, you take a few long strides away from them before you realize what you said.

“I- I did- I didn’t mean to call you babe,” you sputter, pulling your hand from his to look at him with wide eyes.

“It’s okay though?”

Sungchan raises an eyebrow and slips his hand back into yours, smiling.

“I don’t mind the rumours, you know?” He says honestly but his smile feels all too teasing. “Maybe we should go out for real.”

You huff, separating yourself from him again. “Maybe you just love attention. Disgusting.”

You point an accusatory finger at him and he bites at it playfully.

“While you're here, wanna see a cool trick I learned?" He straightens only having to tilt his head to look at you.

"If it's you falling on your face, then yes."

"I mean, hey, I could totally do that. Done that several times actually."

You smile despite trying your hardest not to. You like this about him—that he’s easygoing enough to make you look at life less seriously. If it’s with him, you could quit everything that makes you unhappy and start everything you love.

“So where is your skateboard?” you ask, walking side by side with him, who has finally learned to match your pace.

“It’s with one of my friends,” he answers, and points to a tall girl with long brown hair, wearing a pair of tomboyish shorts and T-shirt. Another girl with short hair and a bucket hat accompanies her, wearing a long hoodie and shorts, but she leaves before you reach them. They must be from a different school because you’ve never seen them before. The first thing that pops into your head is that they’d be good replacements for your cheerleading position if you were ever to leave. You shake your head. Now is not the time.

“That’s Jimin!” he introduces, and you wonder how he’s this way—how he makes friends so easily.

Jimin waves at Sungchan and then proceeds to ask if you’re his girlfriend with a big smile, like a script being followed everywhere you go.

She seems a little disappointed at the answer. “Well, I was going to suggest one of the couples skateboards.”

You flash her an awkward smile.

“But those are pretty difficult! I’ve been here for a month and my idea of skateboarding is still sitting on it while Soeun pushes me around. That’s my friend, by the way.”

“Ah.” You nod. “This is my first time skateboarding, actually. The only ‘sport’ I’ve ever done is cheerleading.”

Jimin furrows her eyebrows before her eyes widen. “Wait a minute. You’re the cheerleader best friend that Sungchan wouldn’t shut up about!”

Sungchan flusters, in the subtle way he usually does, and waves his hands robotically trying to explain. “I was just saying- that- that you’d be good at skateboarding. Because of the cheerleading.”

A boxy grin accompanies his explanation.

“Right.” Jimin covers her face and sends an obvious wink your way. “Anyway, you can have my skateboard for the day.”

She hands over a smooth black skateboard with white wheels, but on closer inspection you find that they’re light-up wheels instead. It’s oddly fitting for someone like Jimin even if you’ve known her the entirety of ten minutes. Sungchan is good at finding friends, rather. Soon enough, she runs off after making Sungchan promise he’ll deliver the skateboard home.

The trick Sungchan wanted to show you was a failed kickflip. At the very least, it made you laugh so hard you almost spit out the strawberry milk he’d bought you. Sipping his own banana milk, he sulked for a moment or two, telling you to try it out and see how difficult it is.

On the contrary, Sungchan was right. You are good at balancing on skateboards. But that’s where it ends. You don’t think you’ll be naturally good at kickflips, though being able to glide through the plaza while Sungchan runs after you with the drinks puts a big smile on your face. It’s the most fun you’ve had in a while.

Accompanied by Sungchan’s panicked “oh no”s and “oh we messed up”s, the two of you try the couple skateboarding move too; no one’s watching you here. It’s fun to see him stress over a skateboard because frankly, you’ve never met anyone as easy-going as Sungchan. (“I’ll figure it out along the way,” he says when you ask if he’s studying for finals, and proceeds to get a decent enough score). Suddenly the wandering gap is closed again. You’re not going to worry about stupid rumours from now on.

But for some reason, ‘you like him as a friend’ doesn’t sound right either. Despite having said it so many times, you might not believe in it. You shake off the thought. This evening, at least, you’re going to enjoy with Sungchan without thinking of teenage drama and hormones.

"You still don't think you and Sungchan make the perfect pair?" Yuna pouts.

You narrow your eyes. "I don't take opinions from traitors."

Chaeryoung leans back on her chair, and whispers to you asking if you’re okay. At least someone is concerned about you.

“It hurts to be left by my own friends but—”

“No, I meant, are you okay? Why aren’t you dating Sungchan already? You’re so cute together! And you’re best friends—Netflix writers literally daydream of this.”

You groan, throwing up your hands in defeat.

“And,” Yuna adds, knocking her chair closer. “Who’s really the traitor here? Us who ditched you with the love of your life—or you, who runs off every time she gets a call from her boyfriend?”

“Sungchan is not my boyfriend.” You cross your arms.

“She even shares her lunch with him more,” Ryujin complains from the side. “And they’re not even in the same class. Unlike me, by the way. Class 1 Shin Ryujin. Same class as you, (name).”

You slump, resting your forehead against the desk. At this point, you wish the teacher would walk in and start the class already. Unfortunately, lunch break isn’t over for another ten minutes and lady luck clearly isn’t smiling upon you.

“Speak of the devil!” Ryujin announces monotonously, leaning against her desk.

Sungchan and a few of his friends from the soccer team wave at you and the girls from the classroom door. Noticing Taehyun, Yuna quickly fixes her hair and you would tease her if Sungchan hadn’t casually strolled up to your desk and sat down on the chair in front of you. Long legs barely contained in the space, he adjusts himself by resting his arm on the headrest and his chin upon it. It’s all normal. However, when he leans down to match your eye level, you hear the sudden pit-a-pat of your pulse in your ear. At this proximity, you can even see the mole on his lip that he’s pointed out before. The sunlight from the open windows is pulling golden strings over his eyelashes and his lips aren’t dry as a desert like you expected. You know he uses the watermelon flavoured lip balm.

“Too close,” you croak. Embarrassed at your own voice, you rise sharply and glare at him.

“Is your heart fluttering?” Sungchan asks, smiling as he looks up at you.

You roll your eyes.

You can hear Yuna’s giggling and before you can shoot her a glare, Sungchan calls.

"Do you have any bandaids?"

He points to a rough scratch at the base of his palm, fingers slender and less calloused than what you'd pictured. Then again, soccer players don't use their hands much, do they?

You blink. "You came all the way here for bandaids?"

"Well… I remembered you keep band-aids in your phone case. And the nurse hates me."

You giggle.

Yujin mouths from behind Sungchan, “He just wanted to see her.”

You would feel flattered if you didn't know these people and their shenanigans. They'd do anything for some drama (and to get two innocent people into the dating trap).

“Why would I waste my cute band aids on you?” you mutter under your breath. “They’re limited edition, you know?”

No way are you sticking Ice Bear on your urban hazard of a best friend. A tall, cute, surprisingly polite hazard but he still annoys you nonetheless.

However, Sungchan's pleading smile has grown on you.

You reluctantly take the band-aid out of your clear phone case, the pink panda doll attached to it swaying with the movement. Proceeding, you take Sungchan's hand and lay it on your desk. With careful focus, you place the band-aid, admiring the size difference of your hands before snapping to reality.

Enough with the pink cloud of thoughts, you scold yourself.

When you look up, the proximity makes your heart skip a beat despite the logical part of you saying you shouldn't. Your faces are too close and this time, you don't even have the energy to croak it out.

"Thanks, (name)," Sungchan smiles at you.

Right then, the sound of a chair sliding harshly against the floor makes the two of you jolt away from each other. All of your friends and his friends seem to be sporting Cheshire cat grins and you don't like it one bit. You don't like not being in on the gag.

"Anybody up for gaming after this? My treat." Chenle looks around. “Sungchan is banned from the arcade soccer game though.”

"'Ey," Sungchan complains.

"Hey, Jisung and Ryujin are banned from DDR too but that's because they almost broke the handles off last time."

The memory makes you smile. Sungchan was there too, and you don’t know why you’re only just recalling all the memories with him in it, carefully and in detail. Every one of them seems to have been amplified, the little interactions suddenly coming to mind.

“(name)? You’re coming?”

You take one look at Sungchan and give up. Even if this is another childish ploy by your peers, you don't mind spending some more time at the arcade with infuriatingly addictive games. A tiny part of you is even willing to go along with them and see if it turns out the way they want it to.

“I’ll go,” you mumble, and the rest of the group cheers.

“But I have cleaning duty today.”

The group groans.

“Just get someone else to do it. Like a junior.”

“Isn’t that bullying?” You ask, frowning.

“Ask nicely. Anyone would be willing to do your bidding, (name).”

“Chenle, will you do it?” You give him a sickly sweet smile. “You’re class president after all.”

Chenle wrinkles his nose. “You’re getting stupider every day, (name).”

You sigh. “Fine. I’ll ask one of Yuna’s classmates then.”

“By the way,” Chenle announces. “Only twelfth graders are invited—”

A bunch of groans interrupt him.

“Quit whining.” He crosses his arms, glaring at them. “What do you even have to worry about? We’re preparing for the exam of our lives. Oh, and Jisung is an exception.”

“We’re only two years apart,” Yuna mutters under her breath.

“Oh, and from class 5, only Sungchan is invited.”

Another round of complaints pass and Chenle breaks into laughter. “Just kidding.”

Your friends are and will always be an odd bunch. Sungchan has previously proved to be the weirdest (several times) and it makes him the most lovable too. But then again, you don’t have free space in your timetable to put in teenage crushes, much less falling for your best friend. What you do have time for this afternoon, however, is relaxing at the arcade.

“Let’s go! I am so good at this. Think I’d impress your Steve Curry?” Ryujun gloats, after having scored three hoops in a row at the arcade basketball game.

“It’s Stephen Curry,” Chenle corrects. “And no, let’s focus here. Our goals are—”

He points to the two figures by the DDR machine, looking like a real couple. He’s been acting as damage control for the rumours and making sure you don’t drift apart because of it. They really don’t make guys like him anymore, Chenle sighs. He should get a friendship award or something.

“—those two.”

Really, Sungchan better be thanking him by the end of this. He’s never met anyone quite like Jung Sungchan, especially because Chenle cannot picture himself liking the same person since elementary school.

“Man, now I wish I had a girlfriend,” Chenle mutters.

Ryujin snorts. “Who’s going to date you?”

“You don’t have a boyfriend either,” Chenle reminds and gets a basketball to the shoulder.

“Why are you playing that when you don’t even know how to use it?” Your voice rings through to them.

“I said I’ll figure it out!” Sungchan reasons.

Chenle and Ryujin stare at the two of you blankly, as you bicker over a claw machine game and they share a look.

“Do they need our help?” Ryujin whispers.

Chenle shakes his head. “I think they’ll figure it out from here.”

Soon enough, you were laughing at Sungchan’s failed attempts and trying to outplay him. Your friends have already given you the shove. Chenle and Ryujin share a high five and that’s where the new story begins.

You finally know the thrill of a teenage crush. It makes you so damn infuriated that it had to be Jung Sungchan.

Now every time he waves at you from the field or hands you a bottle of strawberry milk or explains the calc notes you missed or does the bare minimum, you need to deal with the quickening of your pulse and a few butterflies loose from their cage in your stomach. It doesn’t help that you’re almost always together.

The two of you currently sit by the school field, Sungchan tying his shoelaces while you cool off with the water bottle he offered you. Practice ended a while ago for you and the girls have receded into the air conditioned indoor gym. The indoor gym is apparently occupied by the gymnast club and you couldn’t be more disappointed that you didn’t join them instead.

If anything, however, you’d rather leave this whole thing and focus on your academics. Hobbies shouldn’t be draining you—they should feel like skateboarding on a lilac evening with the wind in your hair.

With a friend you like very, very much.

“Sungchan,” you call quietly.

“Hm?”

When he looks up, you can’t hold in the urge to fix the hair out of his eyes. You’ve never been very physically affectionate so it might have come off strange. Sungchan looks at you quietly, stars in his eyes and you clear your throat.

“How long have you been playing soccer? It was before we met, right?”

He hums, eyes traveling up and then back to you when he remembers. “Since I was six. You were there at my first soccer match actually.”

“I was? Oh my god, was it the one you lost horribly and the whole team started crying?”

“Yes. Yes, it was.”

You giggle. “Six year old you would be so in awe now.”

Sungchan beams at that.

“Who knows?” he smiles, looking into your eyes with firm determination. “Maybe I’ll be the next Son Heungmin.”

“Even I know who that is so… no.”

Sungchan pouts and you make a face in disgust. “Don’t act cute, it gives me hives.”

“Okay, maybe not Son Heungmin. I could definitely be the next Park Jisung—and I don’t mean him.”

Sungchan points to a boy passed out on the benches, his exhaustion typical of any high schooler while another boy sits beside him, fanning him with a bunch of assignment papers. Jisung and Chenle really are more entertaining than any game on this field.

You turn to look at Sungchan, who’s moving his head around trying to catch their attention. When he finally does, he waves at them and gets big grins in response. He’s not all that bad, you think. In fact, he’s quite possibly the most amiable boy in senior year.

“Just be Jung Sungchan,” you mutter. “Not Son Heungmin or Park Jisung.”

Sungchan turns to you, smiling wide. “Advice taken.”

You scoff. “Whatever.”

Maybe it’s just you but Sungchan has been glancing at your lips very frequently today and mentally thank Chaeryoung for letting you borrow her lip tint. You didn’t know something so subtle could get you this giddy.

“Are you… going to give the CSAT?” You ask, glancing at him nervously. Part of you is sad you only developed your first high school crush in the very last semester. Or if it’s comforting, you could believe you’ve liked him all this time.

“Nah. Sports scholarship,” he says nonchalantly. “I was going to tell you but… I’ve been scouted already.”

You gasp. “That’s… great. Your future’s all settled.”

Sungchan seems to dislike the idea, lips pursing. “I don’t think anything’s settled except for the next step.”

You nod, somewhat understanding.

“What about you?” He asks. “Any university in mind? SKY? I’ve seen you study extra hours at the library.”

You look away, not feeling ready for the conversation.

“I don’t know,” you say quietly. “I don’t know what I like and what I want. I don’t even like cheer anymore.”

Sungchan gazes at you wordlessly but it’s the most comfortable you’ve felt talking about this.

“Maybe I should quit,” you mumble.

You don’t want to commit to something you no longer have passion for. But then again, you’ve spent so much time on it that it’s hard to leave.

“You should,” he responds, honest.

You scoff, shaking yourself from that moment of vulnerability. “But why would I quit something I’m good at?”

“If you don’t like it. If it hurts to leave but isn’t any better when you stay, you should leave.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re quite the philosopher.”

“I’m smart, right?”

You smile.

“Oy, you two!” Chenle calls, making his way to you two with Jisung trailing behind. “I don’t mean to interrupt your flirting but you got a spare water bottle?”

“Are you two going out now?” Jisung asks as a follow-up, and you feel a hot flush for some reason, unlike the previous times you’ve been asked this question.

“No,” you answer. You don’t mind the idea though now.

“Don’t lie,” Chenle complains. “I saw that picture of Sungchan teaching you how to kick a ball. You? And soccer? Something’s up.”

You throw up your hands in exasperation. “Seriously, who keeps up posting to the school page? And where do they get the time?”

"Two people with this much compatibility will always be a hot topic."

"We're not compatible," you retort quickly.

"Wait," Jisung says. "I know how to resolve this."

You raise an eyebrow.

"How do you have your cereal?" He asks, looking from you to Sungchan.

"Cereal first, obviously," you answer.

Sungchan looks up, finger below his chin as he thinks. "I drink the milk first, then eat the cereal and then breakdance to mix it all together."

You pinch your nose. "I swear I question your sanity all the time."

"Hah! That means you're thinking about me all the time."

You look away, rolling your eyes. He responds with an open-mouthed smile and finger guns.

"See?" Jisung grins. "Compatible."

The gruff voice of Coach Lee startles the four of you and Sungchan leaves with a sigh and a promise of meeting after practice. Jisung leaves with Sungchan and Chenle gives you one last teasing smirk before sitting down and going through the assignment papers he was using as a fan previously. You will never understand his miraculous ways of performing his presidential duties.

You don’t have a good feeling about the next match. The only reason you’re even sticking around anymore—as embarrassing as it—is to spend more time with Sungchan. Being with him puts you at ease, even if the school tries to wrap the two of you in a rope of uneasiness. This is your very last practice, for the next match is the final one of this year and then you’ll be back to spending even longer hours at the library with a stack of textbooks. It’s supposed to be a carefree age. At least, adults say that. Your high school life seems to be riddled with worries, and with that thought, you head into the air conditioned room to take a breather off your anxieties.

Only one more match, you remind yourself.

The pre-match buzz is driving you to the edge.

Your form is off, you can feel it already and Coach Kim isn’t as sunshine-as-rainbows as she usually is, courtesy to it being the last match of your life. She’ll never know though, how much you don’t want to do this.

Sungchan waves at you as he usually does before a match, disappointing a third of his fangirls, but it helps you ease. One last time, (name).

Watching the crowd of people, parents and siblings and friends, all excited and talking makes you take a deep breath. You practiced but it wasn’t good enough. You can never do well at something you don’t like anymore. This time, you feel guilty for committing to things half-heartedly. You want to start that fresh new college chapter already, with all of this behind.

There’s ten minutes left. You go back to the empty hall outside the lockers only to pace. This isn’t helping.

“(name)!”

You turn around abruptly to find Sungchan’s tall figure, and you must be looking miserable because his smile falls.

He doesn’t even ask what’s wrong, only takes careful steps towards you. “Do you need water? Medicine?”

His hands hover over your shoulder but he doesn’t burden you with them. You put your face in your palms and sigh, sinking down to the floor in a crouch.

“I want to quit,” you whisper. Your voice comes off more brittle than you’d like, and you realize that Sungchan hasn’t seen you cry since seventh grade when you failed a math test. You didn’t tell him then but you appreciated him studying extra hours for math just to teach you.

“You don’t have to go out there if you don’t want to,” he says quietly, dropping to the floor beside you. “I’ll stay with you.”

You stare at him dumbfounded. “Don’t be ridiculous! They’ll lose without you—you’re the ace, Sungchan!”

“There will always be an ace,” he retorts. “Maybe Jisung will finally get to shine. Or anyone else. I don’t mind spending an hour with you alone.”

You feel a hot flush spread over your cheeks. Looking away to the side, you mumble an ‘alright’ and only glance from the corner of your eye to see him smiling. Jung Sungchan is the most unreasonable boy you’ve ever met. Perhaps it makes him somewhat loveable too.

“It’s your last match,” you whisper helplessly.

“I’ll join the college soccer club and get to play more matches.”

You sigh, giving in. If he’s so adamant, you think that perhaps there is something in you worth sacrificing his game over. It makes an oddly warm feeling bloom in your chest. Sungchan is so damn convincing with his words. You wonder if it’s really okay.

With shoulders touching, an awkward silence takes over in the next second. You turn to him and open your mouth, watch him do the same and close it at the same time he does.

“You know,” he begins, “I was kind of lying about not worrying because I get the feeling coach will evaporate me tomorrow but—I can handle it. Mostly.”

You stare at him with wide, worried eyes. “You don’t have to do this, Sungchan. I’m the one running away.”

You slouch, pulling your knees closer to your chest and burying your face in them. The urge to scream is boiling within you but you can’t get caught. Not now.

“Sometimes to run is the brave thing,” he responds, insightful. “If you’re not up for it, it’s better to quit early than to regret it in the long run.”

You don’t know if it’s the fact that he just quoted Taylor Swift or spoke like your old school counselor—but you find yourself laughing. He makes sense. Sungchan, in his weird, oddball ways, always makes sense. And in that same way, he feels like home.

“You’re so good to me,” you say, looking up at him and at a proximity you’ve never been before.

It’s his turn to fluster, though he doesn’t do so as visibly as you do. He clears his throat, shifting his eyes around before meeting yours. “I- This is bad timing but… I like you. I really do. Since third grade when you drew that birthday card for me. I have it in my bedside drawer, by the way.”

He looks away and makes a face, probably wondering why he said that out loud.

You press your lips tight to prevent the smile that tugs at them. He looks at you with a wobbly smile, trying his hardest to resume his usual dignity—but he’s just a boy, after all.

“My type is dumb and pretty, though?” You tease, the smile escaping. “You said it yourself.”

He blinks. “Well, I am pretty but if you want me to be stu—”

You shake your head. “I like you too. You don’t have to act cute.”

He pauses, thinking. “I have never acted cute in my life ever. I was born cu—”

You hold his face between your thumb and forefinger. “You do that again and you die.”

He breaks into a smile.

“I’ve never met someone quite like you,” you whisper, embarrassed of your own feelings bubbling up from the bottle you had kept them in.

He laughs, open-mouthed and pretty.

“Actually, hey, I didn’t like you all this time from fifth. I liked you and then I didn’t like you and then I liked you again—”

“Okay, I get it.”

His shoulders relax and he smiles at you. You look up at the clock on the wall by the entrance to the field and bite your lip. You don’t love performing anymore but you know all the girls do, even the stand-bys. Jisung might not have to take over Sungchan’s position but you bet one of those tenth graders would love to take yours, the same way you did back then. They’ve practiced harder than you too and it’s only a matter of deserving.

You take a deep breath and get up, pulling up Sungchan by the hand. He raises an eyebrow, inquisitive eyes scanning over your face and you smile at him, strengthening your resolve. You should have done this way sooner.

Sungchan plays. You don’t let him sit it out with you.

Halfway through, you cheer the hardest you ever have, plastic decorative gemstones stuck by your eyes borrowed from the other girls cheering. It’s much more fun, you think. You’ve never experienced soccer like this. You’d love to sit at stadiums and join in victory chants. There’s enough weight off your chest to yell your lungs out.

Sungchan scores a goal almost immediately after and sends a thumbs up over to you. You laugh. This is the best break you’ve ever taken from cheerleading.

“Ooh, is this perhaps the (name) effect?” Chenle’s voice rings through the speakers and you feel yourself shrink slightly under the eyes. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see your homeroom teacher signal very angrily to the commentator box. You shake yourself off it. So what if everyone’s looking?

Sungchan places his hands on his hips, chest heaving and sends another signal to you before beelining for a straight goal. You whoop and the girl with a notebook beside you is visibly annoyed at this point but you don’t care.

Without doubt, your school wins and you watch as Sungchan runs to his team, a big smile on his face. The second he’s done getting pet by the team, however, he rushes to the bleachers, skipping over the steps to you, panting when he stops. The risk he took was definitely not calculated. He holds up one finger while he heaves.

“My cheering worked best this time, it seems,” you say to him, laughing.

His face is flushed from the exertion but he laughs heartily. “You could be yelling profanity at me and it’d still encourage me.”

You shake your head at the cheesy line. He takes a step forward, well inside your space but you don’t mind. He leans in.

“Everyone is looking at us,” he says under his breath. “Is that a good or a bad thing?”

You look behind him to find the whole team, along with your girls sharing furtive glances and giggling at the sight of the two of you. A few of the junior girls slap each other’s arms, bouncing on the balls of their feet in excitement. You’re not a celebrity. But everyone wants to cheer things on once in a while, don’t they?

“Good,” you answer, before pulling him by the shirt into a chaste kiss. When you pull apart, Sungchan’s face is so struck with awe that you want to look away but instead you bite back an obvious smile. It’s about damn time, someone from the soccer team yells.

“Woah. I think I scored a goal either way,” he says, an offbeat smile on his face.

“Oh come on, we didn’t even get to chant ‘Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!’ yet—oh shit, the mic’s on.”

Chenle is definitely getting an earful from your teacher after this. The two of you wave at him at the box and end up laughing at him trying to hide behind the desk.

As expected, the whole crowd surrounds the two of you in less than a minute’s worth of time, with several congratulations and “good score” offered to the two of you. The boys mess up Sungchan’s hair while the girls compliment you on how cute a couple you are. There’s also the question of when you started dating that pauses the buzz and makes everyone look to the two of you for an answer. Sungchan turns to you and you turn to him, and there’s no way you’ll tell half the school that your confession came in a private hallway outside the field—teenage imaginations run wild.

Instead, you slip your hand into Sungchan’s and run down the bleachers and towards the exit, laughter spilling from your lips. There’s only one place you can think of going to spend a cool blue late afternoon with.

“Skate plaza?” He asks.

“Skate plaza,” you answer.

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