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[waverlyyhaught]

Favorite Marta and Fina Moments - Part 97 Sueños de Libertad

[bakuhoes-slut234]

Bakugou x reader smut - Meeting His Parents

A/N: Readers quirk is Electricity. Her quirk is very much like Denki's, except much weaker. Reader is in UA but in the Support Class.

_______________________________________________

"Y/N! GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!" Katsuki shouted from the bottom of the dorm stairs of the support class.

"HOLD YOUR FUCKING HORSES! IM ALMOST DONE!" She shouted back.

Today, Katsuki was introducing Y/N to his parents. They don't even know that he has a girlfriend yet. He just told them that he's bringing a friend over for dinner.

Y/N made her way down the stairs, smiling at how handsome her angry floof looked.

He was wearing black skinny jeans and a dark blue button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and sneakers.

Y/N wore a dark blue skirt that reached her mid-thigh and a white cross-over crop top, along with a pair of black heels.

Bakugou looked up at the sound of footsteps and almost died. In his eyes, she looked absolutely breathtaking, not that he'd ever admit it to her or anyone else.

"Fina-fucking-ly" he grumbled

"Let's go Kat, I can't wait to meet your parents!" She beamed and held onto his arm.

They walked out of the dorms and in the direction of his house. They chose to walk since he lived nearby.

They stopped infront of an average looking house.

Bakugou walked up to the door and unlocked it with his spare keys and gestured for her to come in.

They got inside and took off their shoes. Bakugou put on his house slippers that were by the door and Y/N pulled her own ones from her handbag and put them on.

"WE'RE HERE!" He shouted, making Y/N winced at the volume before putting on her best smile.

A woman with spikey blonde hair and red eyes ran to the door with a scowl on her face.

"HOW MANY TIMES HAVE I TOLD YOU NOT TO SHOU-" she cut herself off as she noticed Y/N. "Hi there, you must be Katsuki's friend. You're so pretty!"

"Um... Actually... I'm his girlfriend. My name's Y/N L/N but you can call me Y/N" she smiled

She looked between Y/N and Katsuki and frowned.

"You deserve so much better, you know that?" She said bluntly.

Y/N's smile faulted as the blonde woman said that.

"What the fuck you old hag!? You can't talk to my girlfriend like that!" He shouted

"I was talking to her. Y/N sweety, you can do so much better than this gremlin child." She said, making Y/N laugh.

"I think I'll stay with this gremlin thanks"

"You better fucking stay with me" Bakugou grumbled.

"Well, at least someone will deal with his shit. Thank you. You can call me Mistuki"

"Nice to meet you"

"Move you fucking hag, we've been standing at the door forever" Katsuki growled.

"Don't talk to your mother like that!" Y/N swatted his arm, earning a glare from the boy.

Mistuki showed them to the table, where the food was already set up and ready to eat. Y/N was introduced to Katsuki's dad and then they all sat down to eat.

The whole time, Mitsuki told Y/N about all of the stories from when Katsuki was a small child and after dinner, showed Y/N his baby pictures.

~

"Thank you for the lovely dinner Mistuki" Y/N smiled.

"It's no problem dear. It's the weekend Tommorow, correct?" She asked.

"Yeah"

"Good. You and Katsuki are staying the night then. Contact your parents to let them know, or whoever needed and then Katsuki will show you to his old room" she smiled.

"Thank you"

Y/N stood up and pulled out her phone, telling her parents that she's staying at a friend's house.

Afterwards, she went to locate her gremlin and found that he had just finished washing dishes.

"You done?" He asked and Y/N nodded.

He wiped his hands dry and then grabbed hers, dragging her down the hall.

Katsuki opened a door and motioned for her to go in first.

The room was simple, a double bed, a lot of hand posters, action figures and some clothes laying on his desk. But other than the clothes on the desk, his room was extremely clean.

Y/N walked in and day down on his bed, just looking around his room in awe.

"Here you go fuck face" he said and threw some clothes at her.

She thanked him with a kiss on the cheek and a hug.

Y/N set the clothes down onto his bed and started to pull off her shirt, but was stopped.

"Oi! What the fuck are you doing!?" He said

"What does it look like? I'm getting changed" she snapped at him

"You can't do that here! I'm still in the room!"

"It doesn't matter, we're dating and I'm not shy about my body." She said and pulled her shirt off.

She looked up to see Bakugou red faced and looking away to try and hide his blush, or give her some type of privacy, she couldn't really tell.

She was about to laugh at his red face until she took in his whole body.

He muscles were tensed, face red and looking to the side, and Y/N noticed his pants starting to tent.

She bit her lip, thinking up either a really good or really bad idea, we'll find out which one it is soon.

She slipped off the rest of her clothes, leaving on just her bra and panties.

She walked up to him, going unnoticed since he was looking away.

She placed both of her hands on his shoulders, getting his attention.

He turned to look at her and blushed, feeling his pants get tighter.

"W-what the hell?" He asked

"Let's have some fun" she suggested and pressed her hips against his.

Bakugou groaned but pushed her away gently.

Y/N frowned and stepped closer again, wrapping her arms around his neck.

He tried to look away from her again but she grabbed his chin with her thumb and index finger, forcing him to look at her.

She closed the distance between them, pressing her lips to his and hummed.

His hands found her waist and squeezed gently.

He swiped his tongue over her lower lip, asking for access, which she gave him.

Their tongues fought for dominance and surprisingly, Y/N won.

Her hands moved to the buttons of his shirt, quickly undoing them. He shrugged his shirt off as her hands got busy with the button and zipper of his pants. She quickly undid them and then broke the kiss.

She slowly moved down his body, letting her fingers graze over his toned chest and abs on her way down until she was on her knees.

She tugged on his pants, silently asking if she could remove them, to which he nodded.

Y/N quickly pulled down both his pants and boxers at the same time, releasing him from the restricting material.

She stared at the size of him, blushing profusely.

"Oi! Don't just stare" he growled, but not angrily, but more needy.

"Sorry" she said and gently wrapped her hand around his base.

She slowly pumped him, watching how he reacts.

His head rolls back as he released something that sounds like a groan and a sigh.

With a little more confidence, she let's go of him for a moment, and moved him so that he's sitting on the edge of his bed.

She sits on the floor between his legs and wraps her hand around him again, this time pumping a little faster and setting a steady pace.

Bakugou groaned and growls as Y/N speeds up her hand movements.

Suddenly, she gets an idea.

"Hey babe?" She said and he hummed in response.

"Can I use my quirk?" She asked.

He looked down at her, fear filling his eyes.

"Don't worry, I won't use it very much, I just want to try something" she explained.

Bakugou hesitantly agreed with a nod of his head.

Y/N smirked but wanted to do it when he least expected it.

She licked his tips before taking into her mouth, making him groan at the new feeling.

She swirled her tongue around him and bobbed her head on his length.

This continued for a few minutes until Y/N finally thought it was time.

She pulled him out of her mouth, making him whine and instead, gently brushed her fingers over his length.

She activated her quirk, using a tiny amount of electricity.

She sent small zaps onto him.

His hands flew into her hair, gripping tightly as he let out a moan.

Y/N took him back into her mouth, satisfied with his reaction.

She wrapped her hand around the part that would fit in her mouth and stocking him, using her quirk.

Bakugou's moans got louder and louder. His grip on her hair, painful but nothing she couldn't tolerate.

"I'm close" he moaned out.

Y/N felt him twitch in her mouth.

She let go of him and forced herself to take in his entire length.

He groaned loudly, telling her that he was almost there.

She placed a single finger, right at the base of his cock and activated her quirk, quite a lot stronger than before, but not enough to hurt him.

He gasped at the initial contact.

Y/N slowly started to pull off of him. As her mouth slowly moved off of his length, her finger traced from base to tip.

"Fuck~!" He growled loudly as he came.

Y/N made sure to keep her mouth over his tip as she let him release into her mouth.

His body shook as he reached his climax, his breath ragged, body glistening with swear and face flushed.

She swallowed the load she was given when he finally stilled and then removed him completely from her mouth.

She deactivated her quirk and then got to her feet.

Bakugou looked at her with lidded eyes, still panting.

She sat down on his leg, careful not to touch his member, knowing that he's sensitive right now.

She placed a peck on his lips and handed him his boxers.

She got up and put on his shirt that he gave to her earlier while he put on his boxers.

"W-wait" he said as she lay down on the bed

"Yeah?"

"Don't you want me to return the favour?" He asked

"Babe, I did that because I wanted to, you don't have to do it for me. Plus, seeing your face contorted in pleasure like that was enough for me" she said and went under the blanket.

"You sure?"

"Aw, you're so soft after you cum. That's cute. Normally you'd be swearing at me by now" she teased. Bakugou didn't even have enough energy to glare at her.

She patted the spot on the bed next to her

"Come on, let's go to bed"

He lay down and placed his head on her stomach, instantly falling asleep.

Y/N laughed to herself and kissed his head before dozing off.

[melissanovels]

♡ Chapter 5 of TRANSIENT TIME TRAVELLER is out! ♡

○ Read on my Website ○ Read on Tumblr (below) ○ Read on Ao3 ○ Read on Royal Road  ○

TTT  is an LGBTQ+ historical fantasy novel about Aida, a time traveller hellbent on proving the innocence of a 1,200-year-old dead queen, and Lorian, an escaped princess-turned-officer who wants to drain the royal blood from their body, & the two coming together with the help of their mischievous future selves.

♡ Reblogs are appreciated! ♡

Read Chapter 5 Below:

As Lorian walked into an empty classroom and waited for Aida and Mister Omar to leave, she pressed her back into the door and utterly lost it.

She covered her mouth with her gloved hands. She’d done it. She’d finally talked to Aida again. And she hadn’t been so crass as she’d been when they’d first met. The first time had been a complete disaster. With Aida being naked and Lorian open-mouthed staring at her, the curves of her wide hips and ass, her breasts, her face, her eyes. God help her, she’d never seen a woman’s body so openly before. All she’d wanted to do that night was slam her down into bed and do unspeakable things to her, yet what had Aida wanted? To talk about fantasy novels and a queen who’d been dead for 1,200 years. What had Lorian even said that’d led her up to Aida’s bedroom? She’d need to write it down for reference.

Despite being betrothed for more than half of her life, Lorian hadn’t a clue how courting worked. The girls she’d met in the palace were diplomatic and groomed to please her, all peachy smiles and saying whatever they needed to make her happy. She’d tried to court an Aldaían knight a few years back, but she’d only earned her name and her preference of cakes before they’d parted ways.

Aida’s attitude was so defiant, so cheeky and unbecoming that it would’ve sent Lorian’s father into hysterics. She wanted her. She wanted to crack her open and explore her mind and passions and give it back to her a ten-thousand fold.

Lorian dragged her hands down her face. Maybe she’d buy her a history book, really push more into the things she loved, or maybe a ticket to En Tempore Rose. The official one, the one that played in the Colosseum. She’d have to schedule a trip to the city center. She’d wear a cloak.

After she heard Aida run off somewhere, Lorian re-entered the library and backtracked for the books Aida had put away. They were old and leather-bound, with yellow pages that smelled of mothballs: History of Roma: From the Perspective of King Julius II to His People and Hidden Dangers of Visatorre in Roman History.

Lorian put that last one back. Aida was brave to read about history that was so rarely taught in class. Lorian had secretly read about it behind Missus’ Sharma’s back. She’d learned about the lost city-state of Siina and the belligerent queen who killed one of the dead kings, and how they killed and tortured those poor Visatorre people for sport soon afterwards as punishment. Thrown into the Colosseum with a pack of lions without any weapons with which to defend themselves. In this aisle alone, Lorian saw four other books detailing what a plight the Visatorre were to other people not blessed with the ability to travel through time.

She believed. The power to go back in time, acting as a ghost to witness history in the raw way it was intended, only to come back and harbor the pains of going backwards. She’d never understand their full pain, she could only educate herself and hope that that injustice would never happen again in her history.

After skimming through more of Aida’s books and realizing how little of it she retained, Lorian picked up the shortest read and went near the windows for light.

She got to page ten, most of which was a glorified chapter about how great the Roman kings were and are, when she heard someone call her name.

“Lorian, you fuck!”

Between the library and the writing hall was a strip of muddy grass. It was a shortcut between the buildings for her and other officers to travel. Two of them were there, calling for her: Alessio and Matteo, the two assholes she’d befriended that month.

“There he is, little bugger,” Alessio said, catching Lorian’s profile from the window. He climbed onto a rock wall to get closer. “Get out of there and come down. Lunch’s almost over!”

“Alright, alright,” she said, and slotted the book for later.

They were good boys, these two. She liked them enough to hang out with them while not on duty. They didn’t know this, and they never would, but she’d actually known them back at the palace. All officers-in-training had to go through a mandatory training program held by a Constable. Lorian had always favored officers for their rowdiness. She’d watch them work out in secret, sneak peeks at their naked bodies when they’d change. When she’d found that both Alessio and Matteo were working as security details at this academy, her decision had been made. A few faked letters of recommendation and her crafty ability to lie through her teeth and she was enrolled as an officer-in-training in a week.

They’d never known it was her as she paraded around as a young, unfavorable princess with incredibly long hair wearing the dresses she loathed, but she liked to tease them every now again with knowledge she shouldn’t have known.

“Hey, Alessio, have you ever been persuaded to eat worms?”

“Matteo, didn’t you pee yourself after seeing a real lion in captivity?”

“Have you two ever kissed on a dare?”

She’d lied to them, calling herself a good guesser.

She walked out of the library and turned the corner to find her boys, but they weren’t there. The yard was quiet; she heard the teachers writing on the chalkboard from the writing rooms.

She stilled her steps. From her knowledge, she knew nobody could truly vanish from the world for good. Something would always bring you back to where you were meant to be.

A twig snapped behind her, and she was put into a chokehold that stole away her breath. She could’ve gotten out of it easily, but she didn’t want to hurt who, from their laughing, she knew was Alessio. Alessio was a redhead with more power than Lorian believed him to have. Matteo, on the other hand, was softer, with dark, floppy hair and innocent eyes.

Laughing, Lorian took out her rapier and used the butt of the sword to knock the wind out of Alessio.

Alessio gagged and let her go. “Ow! You ass.”

“You attacked me.” She lightly kicked him for good measure. “What’re we doing now?”

“Late lunch,” Matteo said, and shared a loaf of bread. They weren’t students, but through their enlistment, they were given a dorm room that she shared with Alessio and Matteo and three simple meals ordained by their royal regimen. Sometimes, if they wooed the right girl or boy, they’d get sweets and even alcohol, something that was forbidden to officers. All three of them had already gotten drunk in that month alone.

They walked to their preferred eating space that the Academy cheekily called “The Defense Wall.” It separated the school from the villainous farmlands of lazy cows and stupid chickens. What used to be a formidable, three-meter tall fortress from a time period Aida probably knew about was now a blockage from the smelly farm animals that provided the school a portion of their eggs, milk, cheese, and occasional meat.

Lorian hopped atop an abandoned wagon of hay to scale the tall wall. Alessio followed her, and they needed to help Matteo make it due to his size. There, they shared their bread and butter and made horrible jokes for hours that, if any other officer heard them say, they would’ve had their hands whipped. Lorian had had her fair share of that back home and was keen not to get struck again for misbehaving.

As Lorian dined, Alessio asked her, “Why do you always spend your time in those libraries? You never read.”

It was true, Lorian wasn’t so much a learned soul as her mother and father pretended she was. She was a physical person who liked getting her hands dirty in order to understand something abstract. This had been her fourth trip to the library that week. The first attempt to find and talk to Aida had failed miserably and she was left hiding behind a bookshelf to spy on her. The other try and Aida hadn’t even been there. The girl kept Lorian on a leash and Lorian had no problem with that. “I do read. I know a great deal of things, much more than you do.”

“Then name two books you’ve loved over the past year. No, five authors, and no poets.”

“You try that. When’s the last time you ever picked up a book?” Lorian reached to pull on Alessio’s hair, but he jerked away and stuffed his mouth with his dry loaf end.

“That Miss spends her time there, doesn’t she?” Matteo asked. “That Aida girl.”

“The traveller?” Alessio asked. “She’s a weird one. I’ve talked with some of the girls in her class, and they say she’s really weird. I heard she’s gonna get the nix, you know?” He made a mark across his neck. “Cut out.”

“What do you mean?” Lorian asked.

“I heard it from my father, and he heard it from Constable Carmine. Word from the Lion is that he’s gonna bar those types of people from secondary education.”

Lorian’s ears heated up. “Carmine said that? And the king agreed to it? When?”

Alessio slowed his chewing at Lorian’s mention of Carmine’s name without his title. She had to stop doing that, being so informal about a man she shouldn’t have known so personally. “That’s just what I heard from my dad, so I think it’s true.”

Lorian rubbed her neck. She knew Carmine well enough to forgo titles when she’d address him in the palace, but after being promoted to Constable, she couldn’t say if this was something he’d enforce under the king’s orders or not. He’d exchange his heart for his duty.

But she wouldn’t have put this horrendous action past her father. He was the most racist, hurtful, selfish person she’d ever known, and she hated herself that parts of his speech and behaviors had sunk into her own bones. It took a great deal of unlearning to undo all of those negative stereotypes, and it took her finally leaving the house and joining the ranks to realize how real Visatorre people lived and how awful the world was to them.

“What’s to happen to her?” Matteo asked when they went silent.

“Dunno,” Alessio said. “Kick her out? There’s only a few of those people here, so it’s not like we’d notice right away.”

“But that’s not fair,” Lorian said. “She hasn’t done anything.”

“That’s not gonna stop them, you know that.”

“Then…I’ll stop them,” she promised, and tried mimicking how confident Aida sounded whenever she opened her mouth. “It’s not right. Do you know Miss Mirko uses a cane because of her illness—” She bit her cheek. “Uh, affliction. Can you imagine walking around with a cane at our age? It’s uncouth to belittle those who were born with advantages we weren’t given.”

Alessio pulled a face. “Don’t act high and mighty to me. This wasn’t my decision, I’m just the fucking messenger. And it’s not like we can change this.”

“Say I become a leading Constable, then,” Lorian argued. “I’d rewrite the rules to make them fair for everyone.”

“You wanna be a Constable?”

“Don’t you? Isn’t that the goal of being an officer, to one day be a Constable?”

“Eh, not really. Not for me, anyway. I just needed to get away from my mother, and this was the best option. To be a Constable means you have to put in ten, sometimes fifteen-hour-days and be on the king’s every beck and call. Thanks, but I’m good just being ordered around for simple things.”

“And I wanted to become stronger like my brothers are, but I don’t think I’m strong enough to do everything a Constable does,” Matteo said, and he looked across the field towards the water well. “Oh.”

Alessio and Lorian followed his intent gaze.

“Speak of the devil,” Alessio said.

Stomping down the fields, dress lifted to keep from stepping in cow droppings, was Aida on a mission. Her hands were bunched up in her dress, her teeth grit, and she was mumbling something to herself as her heels plowed through the dry mud. She’d lost her cane, shortening her steps.

Lorian brushed the crumbs off of her chest and stood up higher to better see her. She always walked with such determination, like she truly did not care how other people saw her. Lorian wanted to walk like that one day.

“Do you need a hand, Miss?” Alessio called out.

“Fuck off!” Aida yelled back.

Alessio tensed up. “What the fuck’s her problem?” he muttered.

“S-she isn’t allowed to talk to us like that,” Matteo said meekly. “What should we do?”

“We need to stop her. Hey—”

Lorian palmed Alessio’s chest, almost knocking him off completely before clutching his jacket and keeping him vertical.

“Ow! Lorian, what’s with you today?”

Lorian stared intently at Aida.

Silent tears were running down Aida’s cheeks as she walked. She wasn’t sobbing or weeping, the tears were simply there, though it was hard to tell why she was crying in the first place. It looked like she was off to kill somebody.

When she was out of sight and then some, Lorian got up, told her friends that she was thirsty, and secretly tailed Aida down her chosen path.

[theboyz-engup]

To All The Boyz I’ve Loved Before; Letter Nine

Summary-

It was wonderful what a few little letters could do; they could make or break a friendship, cause someone to laugh or smile, make someone remember the time of their life or that moment they wanted to forget. Just some words on paper and poof, everyone knew the way your heart beat and workings of your brain. High school really did wonders on you, as did those twelve boys. Maybe they didn’t know it, but they changed your whole life with each smile, each wave, and each word you typed into paper. You made them permanent, and now they had to know why.

Word Count- 10.1k

Previous Letter - Next Letter

Sunwoo’s hands crushed at the letter in his hands. He didn’t even have to open it to know who it was from. He’d received so many of these letters that he could pick them out of a pile. There were days where seeing it on his dorm floor would make him the happiest man alive. Now, they were all tucked up in a box in his room, only to be thought about on the saddest of nights when he hugged his pillow and pretended he wasn’t upset. 

It took everything for him to keep this one. He had so many questions for you. It had been almost a year since your last one so why? Why this one? Why now? Was it just to bite at him? Were you mad? Had something happened? These ate at him in ways he couldn’t control, but still, he didn’t want to read it. He didn’t want to rip open the pressure in his heart. It was already too much to bear and just one more thing might send him off the edge. 

His legs came up all the way to his chest as he folded inwards, taking up all the space on his train seat. With his lip between his teeth, he let out a little groan. The letter was Shroedinger’s Cat. On one hand, if he didn’t open it, he would regret it and wonder what you wanted to say for the rest of his life. On the other, if he read it, he would regret it for other reasons too complicated to understand. Still, he couldn’t help the impulse. He couldn’t help himself from unravelling the crumples of paper in his hands and brought it closer so he could read. 

If he closed his eyes, it was like he was right there with you. Despite himself, a smile began to form itself on his lips.

—————————

Dear Kim Sunwoo, 

I’m drafting this with you in the room. You’re looking at me right now, actually- no, now you’re back at your notepad. You’ve got a dumb smile on your face, and a shirt that’s way too big for you on your chest. I could look at you forever sometimes, like when you’re focused on writing or when you’re drifting off to sleep. We’ve been friends for so long that it scares me to be thinking this but here we are. There you are. Here’s the start of many love letters I hope to be writing to you.

——————————

Early December, 2016

Following the events of October, your entire friend group seemed to be imploding. Hyunjoon was busy with dance, really starting to take it seriously and looking for academies to apply to after high school. He seemed to be missing in action and Amalia went with him, using it as an excuse to spend more time with him. Sunwoo was also in and out of school, training taking up much of his life. Jace had been suspended for a few days in October but, afterwards, refused to face you or anyone other than Shankeri, really. Keri had plans to get out of this town, claiming it was exhausting and suffocating. That was something you couldn’t disagree with, feeling loneliness slip into your bones easily. When you walked home from school, passing diners and parks your group used to laugh loudly in, you felt much like you did in grade nine: lost and alone without a silver lining to your cloud. 

The bell for one of your classes snapped you out of your thoughts in a jiffy, eyes blinking a bit to try and keep up with students already piling out the door and some packing up. Your chemistry teacher had given up trying to give final tips after the bell, though you did offer him a sympathetic smile as you passed by his desk and out the door. Hauling your textbook, now a little frayed from being knocked out of your arms and sliding across the floor in October, you began your slow walk to your locker. 

Lunch time again. If you closed your eyes, you could see it all again. For some reason, you couldn’t keep it out of your head, the sight of Changmin’s body being slammed against the locker showing up behind your eyes whenever you blinked. You hardly noticed the raise in voices as you neared your locker, though a particularly loud scream ripped you from your stupor. 

“Kim Sunwoo!” 

The voice was piercing and sharp, but not meaning to be malicious or scared. The girl sounded like she was in love, calling out for her long lost love. You turned your attention to a cluster of girls, some holding signs and others with pens and notebooks, all looking down the hall for your friend to come walking down. You found the sight stomach churning, large crowds in thin hallways like this making you feel suffocated. Your hand hovered over the lock on your door and, instead of daring to open it, you turned on your heel and walked the opposite direction of the crowd. 

I’ll just hold my textbook for the rest of the day, whatever, you thought, suddenly bitter and wanting to be left alone. There was no such luck for you that day though.

A yelp escaped your mouth as you were tugged to your left, the squeak of a door coupling your voice. You nearly dropped your book again but clasped it tightly against your chest, feet struggling to get a hold of what was happening but you stayed on your toes. You were whirled in a circle to face your captor, room you were pulled in so small that you hardly had space to breathe. They were flush with your textbook, as your back was with the wall behind you, and the door through which you came closed so you had no idea where you were. 

With a small switch of a light, you were met with Sunwoo, who raised his finger to his lips immediately, begging for you to be quiet. You nearly shoved at him but realized there was nowhere for him to go unless you broke a hole in the wall and, while that was an idea, you found yourself pausing. Your eyes connected within a heartbeat and the happy film he kept over the deep brown of them slipped away. He sighed and you saw the exhaustion beneath his skin, creating bags and premature wrinkles. 

“I’m so tired, y/n,” he breathed, coming to lean his head forwards on your shoulder. It was clearly an uncomfortable position for him but he didn’t move, mumbling, “I’ve been trying to avoid them all day but they’re everywhere I go.”

The panic from his touch made your brain malfunction, tongue not being able to form a sentence that pertained to the situation. All you could think of stuttering was, “S- Sunwoo do- don’t you think this looks suspicious like wh- what if they find us or-?”

He just shrugged, finally lifting up his head, hands coming up to cradle his forehead as he did so. “Doesn’t matter. We’re friends, right? We’re with each other all the time.”

“We used to be,” you pointed out, a slight pout on your lips. You didn’t meet his eyes, legs shifting your weight back and forth. You could feel his thighs against yours as you did so and suddenly stopped, surprised to think about the way his touch felt. Still, you were presently aware of where he was pressing into you, knees tapping each others and stomach against your hands. 

A small pause drifted through the air, one thick and full of questions. Sunwoo gave himself the time to think, asking a question you imagined scared him. 

“Are you upset at me for getting casted?”

It was hard not to bring your eyes up to meet his, sadness lingering in there. He looked so entirely vulnerable, something you hardly ever got to see. This would only come out when he was deep in his writing or just woken up from a nap. He was entirely unfiltered, quiet and young. If you pressed your hand into his chest just a bit more, you were sure you’d feel the pulse of nervousness, reading it his lips when he pulled one in to chew on its corner. 

“Sunwoo, no,” you murmured quietly, immediately feeling sorry for acting the way you did, “of course not. How could I be? You’re happy.”

“But you’re alone more now,” he shot back, like he could see right through you. As he kept speaking, you had the strangest feeling like he’d peered into your mind and read what was wrong. “I don’t want you to feel like you did in grade nine, when all of your friends were so far away.”

You blinked, not knowing what to say. Quickly though, you managed, “I can make new friends too, Woo.”

“I don’t want you to. Amalia, Hyunoon, and I, we should try harder. ” Sunwoo’s words were definitive, like they were hardened and immovable. You didn’t know what to say, some form of sadness nipping at your eyes. You were happy but also upset and sorry that he felt this way. An incessant need in your heart made you want to seem strong in front of everyone but there he was, seeing through all the walls you tried so hard to put up. Maybe he could see it too, that you’d removed your film around him. Your eyes were just as vulnerable. You were just as open. 

It was difficult for you to figure out what to say in response, your eyes tilting downwards to avoid crying and feeling entirely pathetic. Silence drifted through the room but it wasn’t uncomfortable but rather solemn. He meant what he said and wasn’t going to go back on it.

“Y/n,” he started, voice soft. One of his hands grasped your shoulder and you didn’t pull away at the touch. Your name sounded so natural falling from his lips, no sign of a joke  coming on. There was a seriousness about him, one you knew you couldn’t take lightly. So, you waited with bated breath, not knowing what he was going to say next. 

Yet, in a split second, his ears seemed to perk up like a kitten’s would, eye drifting from your face to the closed door, mind far off and focused. You tried to follow his moves but didn’t understand what he was listening for, straining to hear something. 

“It’s finally quiet,” he exhaled, looking genuinely relieved. You knew he admired his fans as they admired him but it was taking its toll on him. He was the only famous person for miles so people were eating him up for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. It was no surprise he had no energy left in him.

“Well, we should go eat lunch,” you suggested, finding a way to escape your sudden breathlessness and leaning to grasp the handle to the door but he beat you to it. His hand was there in a flash, covering the metal before you could touch it and you pulled your hand back. 

“What-”

His mouth was plastered with a large grin, one that meant a bad idea . You knew it all too well and yet, you were still caught off guard by it. As his eyes glinted in the dim lighting, he asked his ridiculous question. 

“Wanna skip school with me?”

You spluttered around like a fish for a second before returning back to your last word. “W-what?”

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” he mused, notching his head to the side. His hair wasn’t filled with any product so it fell softly and was easily manipulated by the air. Despite it being a dumb idea, you couldn’t help but nod yes, arms wrapping further around your textbook as if to brace yourself. 

Sunwoo’s smile only became more natural, broadening into something kind and grateful. He explained he would leave first, grab his stuff from his locker and text you when he was out next to his car. Then, you could leave and follow him out but it had to be inconspicuous. 

“I can’t have any scandals,” he murmured, looking a bit nervous as he bit down on his bottom lip. You snorted. 

“Maybe you should’ve thought about that before you dragged me into a storage closet, stupid,” you chided, leaving a light pat on his chest instead of your usual smack. He definitely noticed that, smiling slightly before sliding past you, bidding you goodbye for the moment. 

It didn’t take long before you were face to face again, chemistry book long forgotten in your locker and winter jacket on. It wasn’t too cold, surprisingly, but you weren’t taking any chances with your grades. You couldn’t get sick and suddenly miss class. As you fixed a hat over your head, thin mittens with the fingers cut off hiding your palms, you neared the car with a wave. The boy was only wearing a thick grey hoodie, his favourite one with his university of choice imprinted on its front. His hood was on but he was cold, lips pursed outwards to blow air on his hands. 

“Get in faster, come on, come on,” he said, rushed as he unlocked the door to his car and quickly climbed in. You discarded your bag in his back seat before moving to the passenger seat door and swiftly seating yourself. Sunwoo was hunched over, blowing hot air on his hands as you fixed your seatbelt around you. 

“Need some help?” You offered your covered hands, thrusting them forwards. Despite the high sun, his car was no better than the outside. The boy looked at you for a moment, unsure of what you meant. Leaning forwards, you grasped at his hands and rubbed at them softly, hoping the friction would help. He was quiet for once, watching the movement before quickly retracting one hand to turn on the heat. 

“Better?” you asked, feeling some sort of tug in your chest but deciding to ignore it. He was unusually silent, giving you a nod before forcing out a thank you. It went silent for a moment, his phone not connecting to the bluetooth system so no music streamed in and filled the space. Once you pulled your hands away, resting them in your lap, you quickly decided to have a change of pace, trying to find something to talk about.

“So, how do you even have access to that room?” you asked, quirking up an eyebrow as you got comfortable in the passenger seat of his car. 

He shrugged, seemingly grateful for the new topic. As he settled and put his own belt on, he spoke. “Bribed the janitor, I guess.” 

You gaped. “You what?” 

There was something bashful about his voice and the way his lips formed around words, pink forming very lightly on his slightly browned skin. “I- I promised him a signed picture of me for his daughter if I could have the key to that room to escape.” 

“Wow,” you drawled, smiling out of amusement at his story, “Mr. Kim Sunwoo. Famous enough to use signed pictures to get what he wants.” 

“Shut up,” he chuckled as he started the car, but you could tell he was embarrassed by it slightly. You let it slide but he could see the imprints of jokes on your cheekbones and the way your nose bunched up when you grinned. 

“Stop!” he protested, pulling out of his parking spot carefully but stealing glances at you. 

“I’m not doing anything,” you pushed back, but you fixed him with a look that bore into him, begging to tease him further. 

“Th- That face!” He was stirred up, but he was beginning to chuckle too. “Stop looking at me with that face!”

“What face?” You played the fool, even pulling up your phone to give yourself a small look-over. “This is just my face, Sunwoo.”

“Stop,” he laughed, “you know what you’re doing.”

“Yeah, I’m just looking at you,” you hummed, though you could feel the way your heart filled slowly with this. It was so easy to fall into a pattern with him, bickering your main form of expression. None of it was harmful or mean, but it was nitpicky and fun. He was so easy for you, seeming to understand things about you that you didn’t realize yourself. 

Maybe he was the glue keeping your group together and that’s why him leaving was making you guys fall apart; but in that moment, you didn’t feel like you were breaking to pieces. You weren’t hanging out with a soon to be idol, or someone whose future was bigger than you could even imagine. You were just with Kim Sunwoo, your friend. The boy with the grey hoodie and the loud mouth. The boy who ran after you to give you back paintbrushes. Sometimes even your best friend. It was easy for you to be with him, which meant it was easy for you to miss him. You didn’t realize just how much you had until then.

“You don't think you'll get noticed at a bowling place?” You were suddenly nervous, walking towards the building shoulder to shoulder with Sunwoo. He looked past the edge of his hoodie at you, fully circular eyes hooded with relaxation. 

He shrugged. “They already know I'm not in class, which is what I'll get reprimanded for. Doubt they'll care where I was.” 

“With who though?” you countered, going to open the door but he beat you to it. He held the heavy door open with his foot, motioning for you to go ahead. The second he did so, warmth immediately beckoned you forwards and you rushed to get in. Another shrug fell from his shoulders. 

“Doesn't matter.”

As you rubbed at your arms lightly, hoping to retain some warmth, you snorted. “One second you're afraid of scandals and the next, you hardly care.”

“You can argue that was an hour ago,” Sunwoo pointed out, annoying smile tugging at his lips. 

“You got what I meant,” you chuckled despite yourself, giving into the way his mouth twitched to grin. 

“Can’t say I did,” he pestered, being just as teasing as you were earlier and you knew why. He was just leveling the playing field, something you did often. This time, you didn’t let him have the satisfaction, conceding quickly. 

“Okay, Sunwoo,” you chimed, knowing it would gnaw at him more. His jaw dropped, tongue working at saying how unfair that was as you approached the service desk. 

To your left, multiple bowling alleys stretched out before you, each of them empty. You supposed the middle of the day on a Wednesday wasn't particularly a hot time but thought that maybe someone else would be there. Yet, it was just you, Sunwoo, and the woman behind the desk who was looking extremely bored. She seemed to perk up at your arrival, straightening her back and removing her chin from her hands. You hardly noticed the wave she gave you, much too caught up in Sunwoo’s antics, but gave her a faint smile back, not knowing what else to do. Sunwoo’s voice travelled through the empty hall, swerving through pinball machines and claw games until the end of the walls. The smell of popcorn and corn dogs filled your nose and somehow, you weren't bothered by it. 

“Good afternoon,” the woman crooned, a sparkle in her eye drawing you inwards. Sunwoo stopped his rambling a second before she spoke, turning his full attention to her. A small gasp fell from between her two front teeth as she took in his face, hands stacking on each other in front of her mouth. 

“You- you’re that rapper boy! That Kim Sunwoo, right?” 

A small blush appeared on his cheeks. In an instant, he became a bit more tense, shoulders freezing to push them back and hands coming to remove the hood from his head. God, you thought, shaking your head at him, did he really think a hoodie would be enough of a disguise? Almost on instinct, he bent a bit to say hello politely, lifting his head afterwards. She clicked her tongue in response. 

“Oh honey,” she sighed, waving her hand to have him stop, “don't bother yourself with all of that. I just didn't expect to see you at this time is all. Relax now, come on.” 

Sunwoo smiled a bit, saying okay but not really following her instructions. You gave the woman a shy look as well, hoping she wouldn't think something of you being here alone together. Yet, she didn't mention it at all. Instead, she just asked for shoe sizes and disappeared into the back. The boy beside you gave you an apologetic look, worry written across his cheeks. 

“Hey,” you murmured, grasping at a portion of his hand without thought, “it’s fine. Like you said, it's no big deal. We’re just bowling.” 

“But-” 

His protest was cut off by the woman bustling forwards out of the room, two boxes in her hands. With a bright grin, she handed one to you and one to Woo, looking very proud of herself. 

“These are brand new! I needed an excuse to throw out some old ones and put these on the shelf and now I have a reason.”

You began to open the box but Sunwoo’s hand clasped on top of it, his mouth working fast.

“No thank you,” he started, sounding determined, “there's no need for this. We'll take the regular shoes.” 

“Please, I insist.” The woman's smile seemed to falter for a moment, like she was worried she'd done something wrong. As you put the cap back on the box, you brought it forwards to the counter and placed it down. 

“I insist as well.”

The interaction was tense for a moment before the woman gave in and took the boxes back. When she came back out and handed you a pair of regular shoes, you finally caught her name from beneath her long grey hair. When she moved it from the front of her chest, you found yourself reading Hwasoon and kept the name looked in your brain. 

“That was weird,” you whispered to Sunwoo as you walked to an alley of your choice. You were meant to put your shoes on away from the front desk, where she couldn't hear. 

“I'm sorry,” he murmured, looking embarrassed once more. He didn't have to explain himself. You knew he just wanted to feel normal. 

“No need to apologize.” 

The look he gave you in return was softer, as were his shoulders and the features on his face. You could feel his walls being taken down brick by brick when he looked at you like that. Except you hadn't come crashing in or anything like that. It was just that, slowly, he was beginning to trust you more and more. You hoped he could sense it within you too, that you were trying to be more candid with him. His smile was kind now and entirely bare of anything but gladness to have someone he found comfort in. You returned it.

The world seemed to whirl around you as you began your setup to play. After punching in your names and switching into your shoes, you let Sunwoo wander and find suitably weighted bowling balls for him. Casting your phone in your jacket pocket, you turned the ringer off and sighed, wanting to be free of distractions. Once the boy returned, you went looking for bowling balls that suited your fancy, picking them up and weighing them while Sunwoo went back to ask for Hwasoon to open a particular alley for you. She complied, giving him a small bowl of popcorn complimentary. You even thought you heard her say sorry, your eyes very much following the grey hoodie around the room and discarding your current task. They both proceeded to bow shallowly at each other, Sunwoo just a few more times before coming back to you.

To pretend like you were doing something, you grasped at a few lighter bowling balls and picked them up, saying they were for you. Woo wiggled the bowl at you before putting it down on a seat, now going to the hem of his sweater. 

“Aren't you warm?” He looked at you with your hat still on, mittens still covering your hands.

“Not yet,” you murmured, turning your gaze to the alley in front of you. Music began playing louder over the stereo system above you and you were glad for it. It created the atmosphere for competition but, mostly, it seemed to relax Sunwoo. He stretched a bit, trying to intimidate you before grinning, grasping a ball, and going to play. 

It was beautiful seeing him so free. Every time he was going up, he gave you a look dead in your eyes like he was going to beat you. Every time you went up, he shot a heckle at you through laughter. Despite the hair in his eyes, you could see the brightness in them, giggles dripping through his teeth at little jokes and the times you missed. He mocked you for requesting the bumpers up, claiming he was better than that but then proceeded to miss his shot. You snorted, popping a piece of popcorn in your mouth. 

Between games, because you’d collectively paid for two, you shot little pieces of popcorn at him as he ran around trying to catch them with his mouth. Most landed in his palms, but he liked to scream when he nailed it. Doing this reminded you of Juyeon for the moment but Sunwoo sweeping you up to grab something to eat was enough to get the boy out of your mind in an instant. 

“I’ll get it,” he grinned, insisting on it as he moved up to the counter and asked for nachos, requesting the biggest plate. What was brought out was absolutely horrid but you ate it up together, complaining and giggling and sitting side by side. You hardly noticed how close you’d gotten to him until you could feel his shoulder firmly against yours. 

It was hard not to feel the heat on your cheeks when you looked at the boy, clad in all black with browned hair to match. His eyes were crinkled at the ends, nose scrunched up as his lips spread evenly across his face for a smile to rest on them. There was something inviting about him, warm and comforting but exciting still. You were starting to feel tingles run up your arm where he touched you and little smiles started making your heart race. 

A part of you wondered if he always felt this way to you and you just pushed it down for the sake of your friend group. Yet, Amalia never did. You were never forced to push down anything, forcing feelings down your throat like you did with Juyeon. No, it was your choice to never notice his advances or act on them. You said no to his sideways glances but, thinking back on it, he was always there. He was always a support, someone who brought colour back to your skin and life to your laughter. Maybe you were just never ready to face it until now and seeing him like this was enough to change your perspective. Secretly, you wished to be ready to face it now. 

The drive home was quiet, music filling the air lazily. You could still hear the way the car rumbled across uneven roads and the whir of his engine. It surely wasn’t supposed to make noise but you figured he’d figure that you soon enough. Sunwoo had a silly smile on his face, one hand on the wheel comfortably while the other rested in his lap. You had your legs tucked in to your chest, arms wrapped around them and chin resting on your knees. With what space you had in your seat, you faced yourself towards him and just watched as he drove, hummed along, and caught your eye. Desperately, you wanted to reach over and grasp his hand, the events of the day filling your heart with gold. Still, you stopped yourself. You were scared. You didn’t want to ruin a perfect day. 

As you pulled up in front of your house, you requested a walk around the block, making up an excuse you didn’t even remember. When you extended your hat towards Woo, he reluctantly took the bait and began his little stroll, not waiting for you to get out of the car. Typical. You hurried to keep up with him, tripping forwards and grasping onto his arm for support. Slowly, you slipped your arm through his, surprised at how forwards you were being. Sunwoo seemed surprised but instantly melted against you. 

“Date me,” he murmured as you neared your house again, voice barely audible over the wind that was picking up as day quickly turned into night. 

You blinked. The request was enough to stop you in your tracks, the arm you had around his own pulling him backwards. A part of you thought you had misheard until he repeated it, confidence making his words drip out just a bit louder. 

“Date me, y/n,” he said, like he practiced how and when he was going to ask, “please. Or- or you don’t have to date me but at least give me a chance.”

“I- Sunwoo, what-”

He shook his head, ready to explain. “I’ve liked you ever since I first saw you, like that first day when you literally fell over in front of me and looked like the biggest mess ever: I’ve liked you ever since then. I’ve wanted to ask before but I didn’t know when or if I had a chance or if you liked me back but I feel like this is it. This feels like this is it and I’m never going to get another chance if I don’t ask now so please. Please date me.”

The feelings in your heart swelled, confused and happy all at once. Still, your mind had a way of shutting things down for you, immediately going into panic-mode. 

“B- but you’re going to be an idol now, Sunwoo. You can’t afford any scandals, you said so yourself.”

“That’s the best part, y/n,” he seemed to plead, something desperate in his voice, “we’re already friends. Everyone knows that and it wouldn’t be weird to see us out together, just like you said earlier. It would be okay.”

“What if you want to do something like- like, I don’t know, like hold my hand? Or kiss me?” You hoped the question would pose a challenge but it didn’t at all. He just shrugged. 

“Nobody has to see it, right? I could do it now.” 

His hand fell from the front pocket of his hoodie and clasped onto yours softly. There was a hammering in your chest you couldn’t deny, not as his movements inched you forwards bit by bit. It was hard to deny the way your breath caught in your throat, hands shaking from the cold and his touch. You couldn’t take your eyes from his, hair trying to block your way but there was no way you could look away. The chocolate of them held the seriousness of the whole situation. 

The opposite hand of his came up to graze the exposed part of your neck, touching so lightly and still, he let your jaw upwards the slightest bit. “How about now?”

Feeling like gelatine in his arms, all you could do was whisper a very small, “okay.”

This stopped him, vulnerability returning to him. He suddenly became softer in every aspect of the word and you found yourself melting into him once more, as if you were a perfect fit. You prayed he could feel it too, that the pounding of your heart wasn’t to be ignored. 

“Okay?” The near silence of his voice was enough to confirm your thoughts. All you could do was nod, closing your eyes and grinning lightly. 

“Okay.”

The word was nearly swallowed by his lips touching yours. It was perfect. The only thing missing maybe was a bit of snowfall but that came at night, when you lay in bed and kept grinning at the thought of him. You felt so much like a high schooler in that moment and you loved it. You wanted to feel young and he gave it to you. He gave you your youth back. 

———————————

That day really was the turning point for us. It didn’t just change our friendship but it changed our friend group too. We were suddenly two couples who went out as friends but nobody knew about it. It was a little secret we proceeded to keep between us four, sharing glances and giggles when people murmured about how close me, you, Amalia, and Joon were. Though, it didn’t come without its downfalls, of course. Studying with you became more difficult until we found something that worked. Finding alone time and having to keep our hands from drifting into each other’s was a constant effort. Is a constant effort, more like it, but I don’t mind it. I don’t mind any of it as long as it’s with you.

———————————

Late January 2017

You were sitting in front of your typewriter, excited to start typing out a letter to Sunwoo. These had become a ritual when you wanted to let go of someone but, somehow, sitting down this time became a completely different event. It wasn’t your intention to let him see it until much later. You thought maybe it would be your one year anniversary and you could gift him a box of monthly notes, along with a few other things. A part of you realized that, yes, you were getting ahead of yourself but you couldn’t help it. 

Hardly before had you found yourself grinning without thought but now you were doing it so often. Even your parents picked up on your giddiness around the house, willingness to do chores and cook food increasing. 

“You seem happy,” your dad mumbled one day through chews of a croissant, newspaper in hand and glasses at the bridge of his nose. His hair had turned from a classic black to grey at the roots and you wondered when exactly that started to happen. 

With a shrug, you finished wiping down the counter he was eating at, careful to catch the final crumbles of his snack. “Just glad first semester is over, I guess.”

“And that Sunwoo’s home, right?” He glanced at you over the brim of his glasses, knowing and teasing look in his eyes. You supposed the way you hesitated was enough of a tell but your dad just laughed and folded his newspaper, shaking his head. 

“Kids these days,” he hummed, sticking the paper under his arm and going to wash his hands, “they think their parents are clueless.”

The scene replayed in your head more than it should. Your relationship with Sunwoo wasn’t defined by much yet, you were just going out, watching television, kissing sometimes. It never went further because you were hardly alone and, when you were, it was for brief moments. Still, you wondered how your father had picked up on the way you shifted around him. You could’ve sworn you stayed the same in large gatherings when Hyunjoon and Amalia could spare some time to have pizza dinners with you and Sunwoo and the rest of your family at home. 

“I don’t see a difference,” Amalia stated over the phone, voice much too close to her microphone. She told you she was painting her toenails so you imagined her with her shoulder pressing her phone against her ear, polish going on slowly. 

You leaned back in your seat, leg drifting you in lazy circles as your eyes met the ceiling. “I just don’t get it then. Why would he say that?”

Amalia must’ve shrugged because the sound of fabric now filled your ears before a small curse from her end filtered through. She said that she was putting you on speaker and finished what she wanted to say before.

“Parents are psychic, you know? My parents knew I liked Joon before I even knew it.”

You snorted. “You knew like the second week of grade nine.”

“And they knew before me,” she retorted, to which you gave a genuine laugh at. A knock at your door caused you to turn to face it, door sliding open. 

“Mom wants you,” Haymond informed you, hand resting lightly on the door knob. There was something tense on his face but you supposed it was just leftover stress from exam season ending. A nod slipped from your head and, before you could explain you had to hang up, Amalia already knew. 

“I heard him,” she chimed, “go hang with your mom. We’ll talk later. I’ve been meaning to ask about the English class next semester anyways.”

You hummed instead of giving a proper goodbye and placed down your phone on your desk, typewriter with few words discarded in the course of your conversation. Haymond was slipping back into his room as you came into the small hallway and he gave you a faint smile. 

“What’s she want?” you whispered, still going down the stairs. Your brother gave you a small shrug, though he seemed to know more than he let on. You clicked your tongue and went the rest of the way downstairs only to see your parents sitting at the dinner table, whispering among themselves. 

Your father was the first to see you, plastered smile on his lips. It was obviously meant to be encouraging but all it did was cause a pang of fear to rush through you. Your parents went silent, though your mother beckoned you forwards, getting up to untuck a seat for you. Looking between them, you narrowed your eyes and murmured, “what’s going on?”

Your mother gave your father a side glance, hands folded on the table in front of her. Her back was straighter than usual and she seemed distressed. Her hair was back in a tight bun, suddenly long enough for that to be practical. It felt weird but sometimes it was like you hardly knew your parents or what they looked like. You were so caught up in your life that you hardly realized theirs had been progressing alongside yours the whole time. 

“We’re worried about you,” your father started, unnaturally crooning tone fitting his voice. It was desperate to be comforting but you didn’t understand where it was coming from, eyes blinking back blankly.

Your mother decided to take the next few words carefully. “Y/n, we’re worried about who you’re dating.”

That seemed to be a wrong foot to start off on. It simultaneously scared you and put a sour taste in your mouth. You wondered what they knew, and how they knew it, figuring you hadn’t told anyone else but your closest friends and then- Haymond. That’s why he was acting so weird, you knew something was up.

“Look, I don’t know what Haymond told you but-”

“Haymond didn’t tell us anything,” Dad hurried, shaking his hands and head in time with each other.

“We figured it out ourselves. We’ve been paying attention to you a lot lately, especially since you met Raven and all of those things happened at school.” The way your parents avoided properly speaking about what you’d seen happen to Changmin irked you even more. You found yourself pursing your lips, jaw clenching without much thought. 

“Listen, it’s difficult dating anyone but an idol- or a soon-to-be idol- that’s different, okay? It’s way more… dangerous,” your mother attempted, lingering on words she was unsure of. There was something in you that understood she was just trying to look out for you but it wasn’t enough to overrule the budding anger in you. 

“You don’t know about his contract,” your father added, trying to give you some practicality. You simply sat there in your chair, pushing down words you could say in return, arguments you had to fight back. They won’t listen anyways, you grumbled internally, knowing how it felt to talk to them when they had their minds made up.

“And- and people are mean, y/n,” your mother murmured, realizing she was losing you to the confines of your mind. Her hand lightly cupped yours, desperate to try and get you to meet her eyes. “They’re going to say things about you and about him and it could be so dangerous for the both of you.”

“We don’t want that for you.” 

A stillness fell over the room, one of unrequited affections in the moment. Your parents were desperately trying to reach out to you and you realized it but something made you angrier- more upset than ever before. It was like everywhere you turned, you were faced with a no. With Juyeon, it was your love for Haymond stopping you. With Eric, it was distance stopping you. With Amalia, it was a new relationship she was discovering with Hyunjoon stopping you. No matter where you turned, there was something pulling you back, confining you to your room in this house, alone and isolated. Yet, you’d finally found someone who said yes to you and still, there your parents were, trying to stand in your way.

You wouldn’t have it. Not this time, not when you were finally starting to feel like one piece of your massively overwhelming puzzle was placed correctly. 

“We want to protect you,” Mom whispered, concern lacing every movement. She squeezed your hand and, despite yourself, you found your eyes bearing in on hers. The details in there were hard to understand, swirls of multiple different emotions drifting into and apart from each other. 

There was not much you could say or wanted to in that moment. All you really wanted was to be alone, which you asked for politely. Your parents reluctantly agreed, asking for another conversation later on. That one wouldn’t be as calm, you knew it. Not listening to them when they were trying to be nice was a mistake but you were willing to get into a bout with them at another time. For now, you wanted to chew on their words and rip them apart in ways that would only hurt your feelings. 

Walking up the stairs, you kept your head down until you heard a door shut. Haymond was standing in the hall near your room, giving you a small and sympathetic look. 

“What are you doing in my room?” you hissed, rushing up to face him. Your brother staggered back a moment before holding up a pen. 

“I just needed thi-”

“Yeah well, next time, ask,” you snipped, snatching the writing utensil from his hand and going back into your room. It took everything out of you to not slam the door shut, though the noise it made wasn’t exactly quiet.

You wanted to disappear. It was like life was going in cycles of amazing to horrible and you didn’t know what to expect next. One day would be fine and the next would be black and you couldn’t keep up. All it was doing was ripping you to shreds and you just wanted to lie down and sleep until all your problems solved themselves. Only they wouldn’t without you trying. 

The thought made tears nip at your eyes and you hissed for being this upset about small talk. Your parents couldn’t logically control your life and you didn’t want them to but they would bug you endlessly about Sunwoo. Most people would just do what they wanted but, as you were constantly reminded, you weren’t like most people. There wasn’t a moment you didn’t feel restricted by other people, things, situations- anything. You were restrained but trying to reach for a life where you weren’t. How bold it seemed of you to even try now.

Time slipped through your fingers and you hardly went to go and pick up your phone when it buzzed. Some were texts and some were calls but it would take a lot more to rip you from the ball you’d formed of your body atop your bed. Eventually those stopped too. You’d have to tell Amalia about it soon enough but you couldn’t bring yourself to explain any of your emotions. You didn’t even really understand them yourself. 

It was only when you started to hear a pelting at your window did you get up. Some kids on your street had started doing this to Jaehyun’s house, knowing the room was empty and trying to crack the window. You, on the other hand, were ready to give them a piece of your mind. 

You ripped the curtains to the side and slid the window open, sticking your head out with a curse on your tongue. Only, you were met with a pebble striking the skin on your cheek and Sunwoo’s wide eyes, hands now covering his mouth. 

“Wha- what are you doing here?” you hissed as you cupped your cheek, glad for the quiet of the neighbourhood. It was a wonder he heard you at all but he didn’t respond at all. 

“Holy shit, are you okay?” 

The question was loaded without him knowing it. You just rubbed at your face, giving him a shrug and feeling the anger sap from your bones. His hair was parted so you could see his forehead but he still refused to wear a winter jacket, grey sweater now looking bigger on him than it did before. Idol preparations were surely taking their toll on him. 

“Come hang out with me,” he crooned, not a direct demand but you knew he wanted to see you. Not responding quickly must’ve given him a scare but not responding at all was completely out of character for you. 

“I’m on house arrest,” you said, trying not to be too loud in case you were heard over the television downstairs.

Sunwoo pouted, not knowing what to say. There was a beat of silence where you simply stared at each other and he took an unconscious step forwards. You slumped down against your windowsill, leaning your head on your arms. 

“Wait there,” you murmured as you made up your mind. You grasped a thin blanket from your closet and slipped on warmer clothes quickly before embarking down the stairs. 

As you typed a quick text to Sunwoo, you caught your mother’s eye and paused in the front hall. The courage it took you to speak was overwhelming in that moment, shoving all negative feelings to the side as you said, “Sunwoo’s just outside. He asked if we could see each other for a bit.”

Your father had begun lowering the volume to his television as your mother straightened from her slumped position against his shoulder. Without any words, she looked between you and the ground before reluctantly giving you a nod. 

“Don’t stay out too late. It’s… it’s cold,” she hummed. The look of concern didn’t leave her face, not even as your father rubbed small circles into her arm and beckoned her to lean her head back on his shoulder.

Winter air nipped at your nose, making sure to leave little red marks on your skin but you were prepared with two hats and scarves for the both of you. Woo poked his head around the corner of your home at the sound of your door opening. The rest of his body followed as he smiled, rushing to give you a hug. For some reason, when he did so, you clung to him harder than before. 

“Hey,” he whispered, warm air rushing past your ear, “are you alright?”

Sunwoo wrapped his arms around you in the back of his dad’s truck, chest pressed against your back. His breath moved the smallest of hairs just above your temple, cheek pressed against your head and he just listened. There wasn’t an air of judgement and he didn’t seem hurt by what your parents said. He just listened and held you, keeping you perfectly sheltered between his legs. When it went silent, he let that happen too, probably thinking it was what you needed. 

“I just want to forget about everything but you.”

There was hardly a response to that too. You wondered briefly if he was paying attention until-

“Then let’s do that,” he murmured, hands sliding until they fit perfectly into yours. The blanket you’d brought with you hid you from the chin down but you were still cold in places Sunwoo’s body couldn’t cover. You felt held by him and the winter stillness, night sky stretching up above you and clouds unmoving. The world felt like it had paused when he said that and you closed your eyes, happy to live in a little time warp for the moment. 

“Let’s just be each other’s everything for a little bit.”

———————————

I know I said it in the beginning that this is the start of many love letters and blah blah but… but I’m writing this letter in hopes of this being my last one. I want to love you forever. I’ve written so many of these to so many boys and I just want to stop/ I want it to be you. Sometimes, I feel it in my heart that it is you. Maybe I’ve always felt it. I don’t know and it doesn’t matter because now I’m sure. Now I know what I want, and I never want that to change. I want you and I never want that to change. 

Thank you for showing me what it means to feel loved. We haven’t said it yet but I want you to know that I’ve loved you from now. I don’t think I’ll ever stop. 

Then, until next time, y/n y/l/n. On February 14th, 2017.

———————————

Hyunjoon sat down in the living room, rather awkwardly, he’d say. The sofa to his left was taken up by you and the other two boys, who seemed rather enticed with the truth you were spilling. You had to explain all you’d explained to him in the car just earlier but, this time, you did it much clearer. It was like he was the run through and this was the actual play, not that he minded. He loved hearing you ramble, but it was better you didn’t here. Haymond didn’t seem up to playing games today.

“But that’s my best friend, y/n,” he pressed, line forming between his brows. You seemed to grasp at strings and it was the only time Hyunjoon felt the need to interfere.

“I think y/n’s allowed to like anyone. They didn’t act on it for a reason,” he said politely, though trying to defend you. The look you exchanged was innocent but grateful and he pressed a smile on his lips to give you encouragement. 

“I had to write it or else I- I couldn’t get over it, Haym,” you explained, hands folded in front of you and eyes now trained on them, “If I saw it on paper then that’s the only place it existed and- and I could move past it. I have moved past it.”

The last statement definitely threw the other dancer off balance. Juyeon kicked his eyes up from the floor, searching for some sort of solace in you but you gave him none. Hyunjoon knew where your heart lied- where it had always lied. He felt bad for his friend.

“S- so you didn’t do anything?”

Juyeon clicked his tongue, getting up from his seat as he huffed, “god, Haymond, is that really all you care about right now?”

Hyunjoon took a step towards the boy but he just turned his back to the attempt. Joon was now back to awkwardly watching, daintily sitting on the edge of the sofa to get off his feet. You sighed, leaning all the way forward and pressing your head into your hands. 

“If three got out that means other people probably did which means I’m so fucked.”

Haymond paused. “Wait. There’s more than two?”

You nodded but gave no indication of how many. With a look at Hyunjoon, Haymond questioned at the number. Sticking up a one and a two using his fingers and mouthing the word ‘twelve’, Joon tried to help out.

“That’s a lot,” he hissed, almost as if he was the one in pain. You simply groaned in response, shaking your head. 

“Trust me, I know.”

“Well, what are you going to do about it?” The question was pragmatic, just as Joon would’ve expected. Though, he supposed it was what you needed at the moment. You clearly were overwhelmed by emotions and couldn’t think of much to do.

“What do you mean?” Juyeon asked, sounding tired. “What is there to do?”

“Cry,” you said, a pathetic laugh drifting past your lips but nobody chuckled along with you. You were serious and everyone knew it.

“Understandable,” was all Hyunjoon could think of saying. You snorted at this, turning your head from your hands to fix him with a look. He tried to push a smile to make it better. It didn’t work.

“Sunwoo’s,” Juyeon hummed, voice breaking the awkward silence, “did you write one for him?”

Joon didn’t even think about asking that one, though he knew he should have. Oh boy, he thought, mentally face palming. That was a can of worms nobody should open without knowing what they were getting into. Still, you just shrugged, trying to play it off like you were so cool. The quiver in your voice was enough to give you away.

“Yes. No. I don’t know. I know he has one, I can feel it, but I wrote so many, I forgot which one I kept; but he must’ve read the one he has and, to make it worse, I have to pick him up from the station tomorrow.” 

“You don’t have to,” Haymond pointed out. Joon watched him rub the back of your hand, trying to comfort you. 

“He’s right.”

You shook your head. “I want to. I need to see him, I- if he’s read it, I want to explain.”

Juyeon was the first to speak, sounding determined. Hyunjoon admired how quick he was to put you before himself. “So we’ll make a game plan.” 

A collective nod went around the room. It was just the three of you there to support you but it would be enough. It had to, because there was no one else to call. 

“We’ll figure it out, y/n,” Joon promised, inching closer. You lifted your head fully to face him, watching him give you an encouraging smile. It took a lot for you to match it, pools forming just at the bottom of your eyes but you were willing to try. 

“Just you see. Everything will work itself out."

———————————

It was safe to say that things did not go as planned. Joon had texted Sunwoo beforehand, telling him that you were on the way and had something to talk to him about. There was a plan and Hyunjoon gave him the outline, sending two crossed fingers emojis and ending with:

Kitten, 6:09 p.m: please, don’t make it worse. Just listen to them, okay?

Me, 6:13 p.m: what does make it worse mean?? Why would I?

Sunwoo got no response from there, but things sure did escalate on the drive back to his place. He couldn’t even place when it happened but suddenly, you were crying and he just wanted a break. He felt like he couldn’t breathe seeing what being with him did to you. You seemed to crumble to pieces and it was all his fault. He needed to fix it. He wanted you happy again, just for once second. There wasn’t a single moment he didn’t miss your smile but you were so far from showing him one and it made his heart sink to his toes.

“Y/n, can you please stop? Can we talk about this? Please?” Sunwoo was pleading with you now, watching you from the passenger seat as tears created paths down your cheeks. It was hard to understand how you were even driving with how worked up you were but he wanted you to stop and think. He needed you to not freak out like this, get yourself all worked out. He was scared. He was sorry.

“Please,” he whispered, softer and more emotional than he’d felt himself be in such a long time, “I still love you. I don’t care about anything else, I still love you.”

You brought one hand up to your eyes, pushing inwards to wipe at your cheeks but he knew it was a way for you to redirect your aggression. The pain in your heart reflected in the way you gripped the steering wheel, knuckles turning pale. 

“Sunwoo, stop,” you begged, not wanting to listen to him anymore, “I can’t take this.”

“Hold on, okay? Just pull over. Stay with me. I’m here for one night, just stay with me.” He was trying to mediate it but he didn’t know how. He was strapped into his seat, eyeing the wheel but knowing he couldn’t grab it to stabilize it. You seemed so erratic right now, driving on empty streets but veering left and right. 

Something about your voice ripped at his heart, cries slipping past your teeth and integrating quietly into your words. “I missed you. I missed you so much and I know I shouldn’t because we can’t ever happen but fuck, Sunwoo, sometimes it feels like I’m being torn in half.”

“Hey, woah,” he murmured, not wanting to raise his voice as his concern boiled forwards, “y/n, please. Just slow down. Pull over. Let’s talk about this logically, okay?”

The request for stability made you pause. You felt calmer for a moment, nodding a bit. All he needed you to do was pull over after this intersection. You just had to make it through once more intersection you were already passing and then you could stop. Talk. He could make it better. He could fix it, he knew he could. He could make you smile. 

A breath was all you needed for Sunwoo to get distracted. All his mind was bent on you that he hardly noticed the shadow that flickered at the corner of his eye. The breath and the flicker and he turned to look. God, he wished he’d been looking at you instead of a bright pair of headlights in that moment. You would’ve made all the fear in his body dissipate in an instant. 

On instinct, he cowered inwards. Time seemed to move in slow motion, his body not moving fast enough to turn back to you. Somehow, he reached his arm out and grasped at the wheel, attempting to turn it against your will. His voice worked ahead of him.

“Y/n, look- watch out for-!”

Whatever he meant to say was lost in a chorus of other noises. The few moments where time stopped suddenly came crashing forwards and now, everything was too quick. There was a thud and a screeching, metal scraping the ground and alarms popping off. Air came from somewhere in front of him and his seatbelt dug into his chest and neck, pushing his back against his chair. His arm felt crushed by something but his body felt like it was made of water. Nothing in his eyes registered properly, blurs filling his vision until all he saw was black. He couldn’t remember a thing. All he could feel was what seemed like your hair. It didn’t make sense but, no matter how hard he tried to blink, he couldn’t. He couldn’t do anything and suddenly, it all disappeared, swallowed by pain and the still sounds of the night.

[thisisthepartwhereyou]

BEASTARS MINI-STORY #3: “The Pitfalls of Thin Walls pt. 4″ (Final Part) by JCL

Legosi, who has now changed into a new t-shirt and sweatpants, stares at something with a deadpan look in his eyes. HARU: "So... How do I look?" We see that Haru has changed clothes too: She is wearing a pink blazer over a pink shirt and a pink skirt, basically looking like a rabbit-version of Jackie Kennedy. Legosi continues to stare at her. Then he begins to go pffffft as he fails to contain his laughter. Haru on the other hand looks anything but amused. LEGOSI: "I'm sorry, but it's so not your style!" HARU: "Damn straight it's not my style, none of this is mine to begin with!" (That woman next door...!) -- We see a flashback, where an apolagetic Sebun is standing in the doorway of Legosi's apartment. HARU: (It was nice enough of her to apologize for making such a ruckus and even borrow me some of her own to me in the meantime, while she is having mine and Legosi's clothes washed) A yakisoba-covered Legosi and Haru stares at her as she talks. Legosi looks neutral, while Haru looks pissed. -- Back in the present, Haru looks down at her borrowed outfit and adjusts the skirt, all the while Legosi is doing his best to keep from laughing out loud. HARU: (I am grateful we have about the same size, though what is up with all this PINK? Is she part flamingo or something? Plus, if it hadn't been for her...!) She thinks back to when she and Legosi were about to kiss in the last part and gets a melancholic expression. Anime-tears of frustration begins to run down her cheeks. HARU: (DAMN! We were so close!) Legosi, who seems to have tapped out with all the laughter, points at Haru's clothes and tries to cheer her up. LEGOSI: "On the plus-side, it does make you look more mature." HARU: "Oh yeah? Well," -- We are now in Sebun's apartment, where we see that Sebun has joined the rest of the gang with a glass of her own pressed against the wall. HARU: "-who wouldn't look like an old spinster in these clothes?" This comment seems to hit Sebun like a brick. Her offended expression gets covered by a dark aura of self-conscious depression as she begins to mutter through clenched teeth: SEBUN: "OLD SPINSTER...!" A textbox with an arrow pointing at Sebun appears. TEXT: 29, SINGLE AND OVERLY SELF-CONSCIOUS ABOUT IT Ebisu gives her a sympathetic pat on the shoulder, though like the rest of the gang, he can't help but to find the situation humorous. EBISU: "There, there..." -- Back in Legosi's apartment, Haru exhales. HARU: "My folks are going to have a laugh, that's for certain." Legosi smiles and puts his hands in the pockets of the sweatpants. LEGOSI: "Probably... It's been a pretty strange day, hasn't it?" HARU: "Eventful, though not that strange." Haru begins to count up the general events of their  dinner-date with the help of her fingers. HARU: "I mean we had dinner, I got drunk, we (kind of) went to second base, had some coffee, sat in the wok and played dress up. I'd say it was a pretty fun dinner-date. Generally speaking, I'd say it was pretty normal too." Legosi looks surprised, then cocks a brow. LEGOSI: "You really think so?" HARU: "Well, maybe you shouldn't take my word for it, I mean I didn't exactly do dinner-dates before we met. Or even date for that matter." LEGOSI: "Really?" HARU: "Really-really. I was a tramp, remember?" Haru's blunt acknowledgement to her past prompts Legosi to adopt a thoughtful expression. HARU: "Though maybe we should avoid contact with liquor from now on, I mean I don't want to nurse a hangover each time afterwards." Legosi walks up to Haru with a determined look in his eye. He stops, and looks down at her, like he wants to tell her something important. LEGOSI: "Haru... " HARU: "Yes?" LEGOSI: "I..." Legosi bites down on his lip, like he's struggling with what he's trying to say. Haru looks a little confused. HARU: "What?" Though, we see in Legosi's background that he is thinking about his mother, his father and his grandfather. This morphs into uglier details of his family history, including the last time he met his mother, his father walking away and disappearing and how badly treated his grandfather has been on account of his species. We can see in Legosi's face that he struggles to process all of this, like he wants to share it with Haru, but just can't. His arm suddenly shoots back and points at the terrarium. LEGOSI: "You know, I haven't named that beetle yet." HARU: "Huh?" LEGOSI: "I was thinking about calling him Smoochy, you know, after that movie with the pink rhino, but..." Haru blinks and notes with a deadpan voice: HARU: "That is a terrible name." Legosi nods and fidgets with his fingers. LEGOSI: "Exactly. I've always been bad at naming things, and back when you talked about us having a daughter, you said a lot of good ones. So... I wonder if you'd like to name him for me?" Haru continues to stare at Legosi, like she's thinking 'this is what he had such a hard time saying?' LEGOSI: "It could be your housewarming gift." Haru looks past Legosi and onto the rhinoceros beetle. HARU: "... Josuke." Legosi blinks. LEGOSI: "Josuke? Why?" Haru puts her hand in front of her forehead and extends a single finger from it, imitiating a horn. In her background, as an illustration, we see a wolf-version of Josuke Higashikata from JoJo's Bizarre Adventure. HARU: "His horn makes me think of the hairdo of a character from a manga I used to read, named Josuke." Legosi looks happy, like an enthused kid and turns to greet his freshly named pet. LEGOSI: "Josuke huh? Oi, Josuke!" Haru rolls her eyes and proceeds to open the door. HARU: "Anyway, I think I should be leaving now. So... Bye." She begins to walk out into the corridor. Legosi however quickly turns and catches up to her in the doorway. LEGOSI: "Wait." Haru stops and turns around. Legosi goes down on one knee so that they are on the same eye level. LEGOSI: "Look, I want to be honest and upfront to you about my family... But I'm sorry, I just can't tell you about all of that right now. I can tell you about my grandpa though. He practically raised me all on his own. He is a good person; probably the friendliest and most considerate person one can meet." As he talks, Haru's expression gradually softens. LEGOSI: "He is strong, honest and would go to hell and back to protect his loved ones. You two are the ones I care about the most... And I want you to meet him some day." HARU: (Strong and honest... So that's where you get it from?) "I would love that." Then, straight out of nowhere, Haru darts forward and plants a kiss on Legosi's lips. Legosi's eyes widen, though before he can react further, Haru pulls back with a grin. HARU: "See ya." She then begins to skip down the corridor. Legosi seems like he hasn't quite processed what just happened, and stands frozen in the same position like a statue for a second or two. Then his face goes completely red and he bolts back with a flabbergasted face. As he begins to compute that he's had his first real kiss with Haru, he gets to his feet and calls to Haru. LEGOSI: "HEY! Haru!" Haru stops, turns around and gives him a sneaky look. HARU: "What? You can surprise me with dinner and I can't surprise you with a kiss? Get real! When you're with me, there'll be plenty more surprises!" She then disappears out of sight down the stairs. Legosi touches his lips with his fingers and then gives off a little laugh. Then a sudden crash is heard nearby. Legosi turns his head to see what caused it. What he sees is that the gang in Sebun's apartment, including Sebun herself, has fallen out through the door. They're now piled on top of each other, looking awkward as Legosi stares at them. The only exception is Zaguan, who is standing in the doorway and giving Legosi a little wave. ZAGUAN: "Hello Legosi!" LEGOSI: "What are you doing?" Sebun, who is at the bottom of the pile, sweatdrops. SEBUN: (I forgot to close the door again...) -- EPILOGUE #1 Haru is now back at her parents house. She is taking off her shoes in the hall when her father comes out, holding a cup of coffee. HARU'S DAD: "Hey honey, did you have fu-" He gives her an odd look as he notices what she's wearing. Then he begins to go pfffft and proceeds to laugh out loud. Haru shoots him an annoyed look and begins to stomp away to her room. HARU: "Grrrr....!" She passes her mom, who looks after her with a questioning look. She then turns to her husband. HARU'S MOM: "Who was that lady just now?" Haru's dad can't stop laughing. -- EPILOGUE #2 We see that Sebun is now at her job, sitting behind her desk and working a computer. She is wearing dark pink jeans and a light pink turtleneck with her sleeves rolled up. She looks a bit uncomfortable though, as she is gaining the attention of at least five male co-workers.   HYENA CO-WORKER: "Whoa! New outfit huh?" COUGAR CO-WORKER: "Looking good in the new duds Sebun-chan!" COYOTE CO-WORKER: "Pink is a good color on you!" SEBUN: "Uh, thank you..." (I've worn these clothes before though!) -- EPILOGUE #3 We see Raika, with Fina on his shoulder like usual, walking back to their apartment. He scratches the back of his head and gives Fina a look. RAIKA: "Um, no reason in particular for bringing this up, but if it hadn't been for scale and proportion, you'd actually consider dating me?" Fina gives her roomate an ugly look. FINA: "No. Comment." -- EPILOGUE #4 We see that some time later, Legosi has regained his and Haru's clothes from Sebun. He is currently inspecting his t-shirt. LEGOSI: (The clothes are nice and clean again) He then looks confused as he holds up yet another copy of Harold and Kumar go to White Castle. LEGOSI: (Though why did Sebun give me a copy of Harold and Kumar too?) -- THE END

[drabblemesilly]

Dylan Larkin #6.1

Requested by Anon:  Could you write one (Carter hart, Connor McDavid, Mitch, auston, eichs, Larkin or Nate Bastian) along the lines of: you're really shy and good friends with (player of choice) and they're super close and protective/supportive of you (like they know well so they'll like order stuff for you so you don't have to and they can read you really well) and they've kinda helped you become way less shy. But then one of their teammates makes a joke about like when will you guys date And while mentally panicking you do the whole "what no! We're best friends." And then afterward he's like really weird because he kinda just realised that he doesn't like being just your best friend and then he's really grumpy and like idk almost gets in a fight and is really reckless and then afterwards while you're waiting (because he's taking agessss) you get chatting to some guy and he's furious (idk if this is going to be wayyy to long omg) but he doesn't say anything and just doesn't  Just doesn't speak to you for ages and you're so furious so you don't speak to him and idk you can finish it (IM SORRY ITS SO LONG but I'm fuelled by angst).

*YOU GUYS! I LOVE THIS SO MUCH! This is a loooong request and so a very looong fic. You know I love me some angsty, Larks multi-parters. This is the first of 3, maybe 4, chapters. I feel so good about this and I hope you do too. Enjoy!*

Word count: 1,316

Pro tip: never kick a door open when you weigh next to nothing, no matter how angry or agitated you are. Really, you’ve tried kicking down Dylan Larkin’s front door twice now and the only thing it’s gotten you is a sore foot and a wounded pride. Damn it, Dylan. Why can’t anything just go the way they’re supposed to?

Why can’t he just answer your calls or respond to your messages? Fuck, he can’t even be bothered to show up to your Sunday brunch place – the one you’ve always gone to on Sundays if he’s in town and has the time. He can’t even make up excuses because they only had home games this week.

Toning down your annoyance, you gave the door another wild knock, “I know you’re in there,” you leaned into the banister, “Dylan! I can hear Mario Kart, bitch.”

You looked around the porch to look for a comfortable place to sit in, determined to stay here until Dylan opens the door and talks to you. At this rate, you’ll have to sneak into their dressing room at the arena to see him. Whatever in the world did you do?

Okay, so the last time you saw him was at Anthony Mantha’s apartment. That was Friday night and you were there to celebrate because he was finally going to be reinstated. You had fun, some booze… maybe a little too much booze, if you are being honest, and then Dylan brought you home. Like usual.

He hasn’t talked to you since. Which is very much not like the usual.

Taking out your phone, you opened your messages and stopped until you landed on his last message, ‘I’m outside,’ was what he texted you that Friday night, telling you that he was ready to go home and that you should be too.

It’s been almost two weeks since then and this radio silence thing has got to stop, especially after his fourth fight in as many games last night. Dylan Larkin fighting: out of the ordinary but always welcomed. Dylan Larkin fighting for four games in a row: uh-oh.

Why is he so freaking angry?

Your ears perked when you heard some sort of shuffling inside. FINA-FUCKING-LY.

Except your heart deflated when the door opened and Luke Glendening appeared.

“You look like you need another layer on you,” he said as a way of saying hello, a smile playing on his face.

“If that’s your way of telling me I should leave, better luck next time brother,” you replied, sliding your phone back into your pocket and crossing your arms on your chest, “I’m not leaving until whatever’s up Dylan’s ass crawls out of it.”

For someone so big and bulky, Luke didn’t make any sort of sound as he gingerly closed the door and leaned against it, “he’s really not feeling you right now, bud,” he shook his head, “I don’t know why.”

“You and me both,” you sighed, “he hasn’t talked to me in two weeks,” you rubbed your face, “I just want him to tell me what I did.”

Straightening, Luke dangled his house keys in front of you, “I’m gonna go grab something to eat,” he said, walking down the front porch and into the driveway.

You watched him stop and turn back to face you, “tell him you found these in the porch,” he winked before tossing his keys towards you, almost hitting you on the head, “blow him or something, kid,” he laughed, “he needs to let all those steam out.”

For the record, Dylan Larkin is your best friend and nothing more. It doesn’t look it now because he’s being a jerk but he was the one who helped you overcome your stutter back in 4th grade. When he was confused whether he should go the collegiate way or give up his NCAA eligibility and go to the major juniors, you stayed up all night with him listing the pros and cons. He was there, front and center, when you graduated and you cheered the loudest when he got drafted.

There’s no Dylan Larkin without you and no you without him. It’s just the way it is.

Except apparently, there is a Dylan Larkin without you and this particular Dylan… he’s not all that amazing. He’s angry and picks fights with men like Zdeno Chara and Tom Wilson.

You let yourself in the house and followed the sound of something cooking, finding Dylan chopping some nuts in the kitchen. He’s sporting a pretty good shiner, courtesy of his last conquest: Brayden Point.

Leaning against the archway leading to the kitchen, you nodded at his blackeye, “nice shiner you got there, bud,” you casually commented, trying so hard to not yell at him.

Aaaaand nothing. He didn’t say anything, like you weren’t even there.

Hopping on the bar stool just a few feet away from him, you picked a grape and started eating, “okay,” you shrugged, “you can ignore me but that’s not gonna get you anywhere.”

Still nothing. Woah, he’s good at this silent treatment thing.

“Really?” you shook your head, picking another grape, “you’re just gonna ignore me like you’ve been doing the last few weeks?”

Taking out a book from your bag, you wiggled in your seat, “then I’m just gonna stay here and make myself comfortable.”

“Suit yourself,” he muttered, turning around to toss the nuts into the pan.

You almost fell off the stool from sheer happiness. Holy Lord, he talks.

“’Kay,” you nonchalantly turned the page of your book, not really reading. Instead, you’re watching him move around the kitchen, shoulders so tight that he looked like he needed some deep tissue massage. His cheeks were tomato-red and the bruise around his eye looked as angry as he did.

Dylan Larkin, for all intents and purposes, looks like he is not in the mood to talk to you.

“Seriously, Dyl,” you sighed, closing the book before turning to him, “what’s up?”

“Nothing,” he said, avoiding eye contact, “you should go.”

“Oh,” you huffed, chuckling a little, “no one’s leaving until you untwist your panties, boo.”

That was the worst thing you could have said. Heh.

Rolling his eyes, Dylan shoved on hand into his curls and let out a frustrated sigh, eyes suddenly piercing you in place, “what do you want?” he spat.

“I just want to know why you’re ignoring me,” for all your fake bravado and macho stuff, you really can’t get mad at Dylan. He’s too important in your life that you just can’t risk it.

“We’re best friends,” he sounded so angry that you just sat there dumbfounded. His words were a conflict to his tone so you really don’t know how to respond to that.

“Okay?” you urged.

“You said,” he let out angrily, “we’re best friends.”

“We are best friends,” you argued, “we’ve been best friends for more than half our lives, Deedee,” when in doubt, use the childhood nickname he was never really fond of.

“You told the rookie that we were best friends,” he repeated, probably referring to Michael Rasmussen, who you were talking to at the party.

Now he just sounds like a petulant child, “we ARE best friends, what is wrong with you?” you finally stepped off the stool so you can poke his chest, “why are you so angry at me for telling people that you’re my best friend, that’s the truth. You’re my best friend, right?”

“I am,” he answered back, “and I’m not angry at you,” he said, eyes softening a little, “I’m angry at myself.”

“Okay now you just don’t make any sense.”

“You said we were best friends,” he said again, taking the plate he prepared, “just best friends,” he added so silently that you almost missed it.

Dylan gave you a lopsided smile, “think about that,” he shrugged, “you know where to find me.”