#high school!AU

[blossom-hwa]

the words I say, and the words I mean | h.k

pairing: Huening Kai x gender neutral!reader genre:  fluff, a touch of angst, high school!au, childhood best friends to lovers!au warnings: cursing word count: 2.5k notes: this was originally a story for jay written for chip as a lovely birthday present, I've repurposed it for hyuka because I think he'd fit the lovely lovestruck trope just as well :) hope you enjoy! On a cool golden afternoon on the cusp of winter, Kai falls for you again. 

Jay (Enhypen) Ver. | TXT Masterlist

At precisely five fifty-three on a Friday afternoon of a crisp fall-turning-winter day, Kai comes to this conclusion:

He says a lot of shit.

Which, in hindsight, any of his friends could have probably told him. Taehyun for certain—and Beomgyu too just by virtue of him being a paragon of evil or something. But there’s that whole saying about having to realize things about oneself by oneself, or whatever, because you’ll never listen to anyone else, not for real.

Or maybe there isn’t a saying. Maybe someone just told him that and he’s remembering it now.

Doesn’t matter. The point is, Kai walks into the coffee shop where you work at exactly five fifty-two pm on this wonderful Friday afternoon in the crisp intersection between fall and winter where the sun is beginning to set noticeably earlier but not so much so that it fucks up his entire brain, locks eyes with you behind the counter, and says:

“Hey, doofus.”

Which is certainly a substitute—if not a very good one—for what he says in his brain:

You look really beautiful in this lighting, and I kind of want to kiss you.

You roll your eyes and it’s still beautiful, somehow, in the golden afternoon sunlight spilling through the cafe window, and once again Kai is reminded of how hard he’s fallen for every single bit of you—the childhood best friend who lives next door, who’s seen him from his grubby little toddler days to his ratty pre-teen years to his ungodly mess of existence in this last year before college. You’ve seen everything about him, he’s seen everything about you, and if Kai hadn’t realized it before (a year ago, you fell asleep in the passenger seat as he was driving the two of you home from school and he got a slap of cold reality from God Herself when he looked over to see drool trickling down the side of your face and the first thing he thought was cute) he’d certainly realize it now, at five fifty-two pm on a Friday afternoon at the cusp of fall-turning-winter where the sunlight shines so warm on your half-annoyed, half-fond expression that Kai can proudly say is reserved solely for him.

But it’s kind of like a second realization of love, he guesses. Because apparently once wasn’t enough. And it comes in the form of him calling you a doofus when he just really wants to kiss you instead.

He really, really says a lot of shit. More specifically, a lot of shit he doesn’t mean. Mostly because you don’t know how he feels, and he’s too scared to ask if you might feel the same way.

“Good afternoon to you too, doofus,” you snip, sliding a cup of coffee across the counter. He hands you the exact amount for the drink like clockwork because it’s a routine at this point, and then, also in routine, he eyes it exaggeratedly.

“There’s no poison in this, is there?”

There it is. Again. There’s no poison in this, is there?

How about this instead:

Thanks for the drink, I really love you.

You roll your eyes again and he has to curb the smile on his face, in case it betrays the way his heart is pounding in his chest like it does a lot these days at the sight of you. “No, asshole,” you intone. “If I wanted to kill you, I’d make sure there was blood.”

“Aw, so you don’t want to kill me?”

I’d probably let you stab me for free.

“I’m waiting for the right time.” You snicker. “You know, Beomgyu already offered to help me hide the body.”

Kai would respond, and if he did he’d probably say something equally dumb that he didn’t really want to say because his heart keeps screaming for him to tell the truth of his emotions but his mind keeps telling it to shut the fuck up, but the door opens again with a little ring of bells and even though it’s now five fifty-four pm, six minutes from the end of your shift, six minutes are still six minutes and he’ll have to wait those six minutes to walk you home.

Your manager’s a bitch.

So he parks himself at a table, idly scrolling through his phone while sipping at the bitter Americano you gave him (perfect for keeping him somewhat awake for the late night studying that will definitely happen tonight), and also sneaking glances at you when he’s more or less certain you’re busy. He does good today, doesn’t manage to get caught staring even once before you disappear into the back, presumably to strip off your apron and clock out.

Soobin sends him about five cat pictures in the several minutes it takes for you to change. Kai giggles into his drink and hearts them all right before a shadow looms over his seated figure.

“What’re you laughing at?”

In response, he lifts his phone and watches a smile bloom across your face at the cat pictures. “They’re adorable,” you coo.

Kai’s brain reacts before his mouth does, which sucks because it only gives further proof to his realization earlier which he’d kinda hoped was a fluke but was pretty sure it wasn’t.

So are you.

He doesn’t say that, because he doesn’t have the guts. “Yeah, if only I could convince my parents to get one,” he pouts instead, pocketing the phone. “Let’s go home.”

The bells above the door chime merrily as the two of you walk out into the golden sunshine, a subtle warmth that curls even through the sharp bites of wind that nip at his nose and cheeks. When winter comes with its snow and ice, you’ll switch to taking the car home—him driving over to pick you up instead of walking in the snow—so he cherishes the walks for now, a bit of peace and calm in the silence of the neighborhood air.

Well, not exactly peace and calm. Because the two of you are best friends, and so you bicker, and most of that bickering gets pretty loud and your neighbors probably hate you both even if they haven’t said it out loud yet, but to Kai it feels peaceful anyway. Calming. A breath of fresh air, a moment in which he can forget about the stress of school and college applications and just focus on being here with you.

You’re telling him a story about work today, gesticulating wildly as you reenact some woman telling you that her drink wasn’t frothy enough, that she expected two full fucking inches of froth so you’d better shake it again or remake it. Kai laughs, and cackles, and commiserates when you say you’d like to hunt her down and put her six feet under, and all the time his heart feels like it’s blooming, blooming under not the sun itself but the light of your smile as you laugh with him.

Like a sunflower, he thinks. A sunflower, always chasing the sun across the sky.

Holy shit, Yeonjun’s poetry is rubbing off on him. This is terrible.

And then you laugh again, this brilliant sound that’s like a cross between a pig’s snort and wedding bells, and yeah. Okay. Whatever. Maybe Yeonjun’s poetry is fine. Because at least it’s getting things right.

“I never want to work in the food industry again,” you complain, shaking your head. Your scarf seems to be slipping around your neck and Kai’s fingers itch to rearrange it, but he keeps his hands to himself because you’ll notice it, right? You’ll notice the slipping scarf instead and then he won’t have to risk having you feel the tenderness in his fingers that isn’t supposed to be there because he’s only supposed to be your best friend, not someone who has a crush on you. “All the horror stories are so real.”

“Okay, but have you considered...” He pauses dramatically as you look at him, eyebrows raised. “Maybe you’re the problem.”

“Kai Kamal Huening—”

“If everything’s happening to you, I’m just saying, maybe there’s some correlation there��”

You punch him in the arm. Hard.

He wails.

“Oh my God, you fucking baby,” you hiss, all the while also holding your sides that are shaking with laughter as Kai flops to the ground, gripping his arm like you just attempted to cut it off. Good. Because he’s exaggerating, clearly, but only for your sake—so you can laugh. Just a bit. Enough to bring light back to your face that isn’t just from the sun.

“You punched me,” he whines, “and you’re calling me a baby?”

I’d let you punch me any day. And if I deserved it, I’d probably punch myself in the face, too. For you.

He’s going insane, he really fucking is, with the disconnect between the shit he says and the shit he wants to say. But the banter comes so easily, too easily—maybe that’s the reason why he can’t speak the words buried in his heart. Because it’s so much easier, so much simpler, to just pretend. To just bicker his way out of ever revealing anything to you.

“Oh my God, just shut up.” You haul him up and—holy shit, maybe he’s just some Victorian woman in disguise or whatever because he could swoon into your touch. He really could. But he doesn’t, because even to his dumbfuck lovesick heart, that’s overkill. “Come on, punch me. We’ll call it even.”

Kai stares at the arm you proffer to him, covered in the coat you’ve worn for several years at this point. He doesn’t know why, but for a moment, he can’t move. Can’t bring himself to.

Which is dumb as fuck. Because this is a thing you two have always done, jokingly hit each other at one point and when the other complains loud enough to cause a neighborhood ruckus, let them hit back to call it even. It started with your first fight as kids and it just...stayed. Until now. At this moment at sometime past six pm on a Friday evening, now, on a crisp fall-turning-winter day where wind has mostly carried away the coffee smell from your job and Kai is having a crisis about punching your arm.

But he has to do it. So—

He punches you.

Very softly.

Nothing at all like you punched him.

You blink. So does he.

“What the fuck was that, dude?” You narrow your eyes at him playfully, though something uncertain dances in your gaze. Alarm bells start ringing at full force in his brain—fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck—“Are you going soft?”

He’s looking at you and you’re looking at him and a gust of wind blows the scarf around your neck and fuck you still haven’t noticed that it’s loose and he wants nothing more than to grab it and fix it so you won’t get too cold but he can’t, now, because he’s already revealed too much by not punching you the way you (and he!) expected and the uncertainty is still there in your expression and FUCK he needs to say something, he needs to say something—

No, it’s because I like you so much it hurts.

“No, it’s because you’re weak and you wouldn’t be able to handle a real punch.”

You screech and Kai screams and then you’re chasing him down the block, one fist held high as you yell something like I’ll give you a real fucking punch to whine about and even as he runs away from you he can hear the laughter in your voice even as you spout bloody murder and promises of revenge behind him, your screams blending with his gasping laughter as he stops, sides heaving with cackles, and you bowl him onto the cold sidewalk that still feels warm, somehow, warm with your giggles as you slap him in the shoulder, threats of violence still dripping from your lips—

“I give up,” he gasps, tears squeezing out of his eyes as he tries to stop laughing. “I give up.”

In other words:

I’ll let you win, always, because your happiness means everything to me.

You collapse to the ground beside him on the cold concrete, and there has never been anything more beautiful, Kai thinks, than the medley of your cackling laugh fading in the air and your expression scrunched in giggling happiness as you sit up to face him. “Good,” you sniff, eyes sparkling in the fading sunlight. “Glad you know your place.”

Kai watches you stand, then extend a hand to help him up. His eyes linger on that hand, the hand he held so much as a kid, the hand he stopped holding in middle school because it’s icky and we aren’t dating, the hand he’s wanted to hold for several years now and even more so since last year when he saw you drooling in the car and thought you were so, so cute. He reaches up, takes it, and in the moment where your palms are connected, his heart aches, aches so much for him to just say—

I love you.

But you let go of his hand, still smiling, so oblivious to the way his heart sags and cracks with the weight of those three words he can’t say as the warmth of your palm leaves his, and he knows—it isn’t meant to be, you loving someone as ratty and messy and damaged as he. You’re best friends. Nothing less, but certainly nothing more.

So he leaves the words in his overflowing heart, locks them away with a cold key made of the sudden absence of your hand’s warmth against his. “Come on,” he says instead, smiling the crooked smile that you always say makes him look like a stupid little rugrat on the streets. But he gets the patented Kai Kamal Huening smile on your face in return, annoyance and exasperation and fondness all mixed into an expression that nearly explodes the box where he keeps those three words, eight letters, carefully locked away, so it can’t be too bad. Not really. Not if it gets him the sunlight of your smile on your face.

Nothing’s so bad, really, not even the weight of all the words he means but can’t say, not when you smile at him like this under the shimmering golden sunlight of a fall-turning-winter evening, not when the two of you are alone in the street glowing warm with laughter, not when it feels like nothing in the world can tear the two of you apart. It’s enough, really. Having you here, and knowing you’ll always be here, even if it means keeping secrets locked carefully away in his heart.

“Come on,” he repeats, and his smile isn’t even that strained as he jerks his head towards the end of the street. “The sun’s setting. Let’s get home.”

Reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed this, and have a lovely day :)

[thiswasinevitable-rwrb]

Frothing at the mouth over this au, thank you so much orz

[fictionalshippingbean]

Teacher: You get to work in groups!

Teen!Cinna, Swap, Dream, and Ink: Yayy!!

Teacher: -Of three.

Teen!Dream, holding up a paper with Ink’s name on it: Ink.

Teen!Cinna: He’s out.

Teen!Swap: He’s gotta go.

Teacher: The tribe has spoken-

Teen!Ink: I GET IT.

[cannedapricot]

midnight bus. || hrj

in which as much as renjun denies ever caring about you, he can't help but notice the twitch in your eye when you receive your test marks, the smile that doesn't seem to quite reach your eyes when praised by your principal, and the lack of smart remarks when he scores a single point higher. something was wrong, and it was driving him insane. alternatively, two kids ponder about their futures on a late night bus ride because neither of them can drive.

word count: 2.7k

genre, warnings: angst (?), slice of life, some fluff, comfort (?), academic rivals to lovers, high school!au, neighbor!au, teenage uncertainties uttered and lost between tall buildings and lights, profanities, trespassing

bgm: ghost city tokyo by ayase, overdose by natori, cinema by vivid bad squad, you're on your own kid by taylor swift

a/n: i just finished reading this book of mine and i am in absolute shambles.

Renjun's eyes narrow, squinting at you across the hall. He could clearly see the principal congratulating you on the debate club's latest win, yet, you weren't puffing your chest out in pride like usual.

If this was any normal day in the past five years of your unnamed war for valedictorian, you would've thanked the principal and skipped right up to Renjun with a smug smirk on your face. If this was any normal day he would've rolled his eyes at you and told you that "arguing for climate change isn't a useful skill".

Evidently, this wasn't a normal day. Something's off. You bid goodbye to the principal and shuffle right past Renjun. No snide comment, no shit eating grin, nothing to acknowledge him.

Now, Renjun would much rather jump off a ten meter platform than admit to care for you, but weeks pass by and your usual spark never returned. It wasn't like he needed your attention or anything.

But it was driving him nuts.

Grade 6. 11 years old. Renjun meets you for the first time. You showed up to the first day of class in bright yellow suspenders, it was hard not to notice you. Renjun thought the two of you would make great friends. After all, his surname did mean yellow.

He changed his mind after you scored higher than him in math. No one scored higher than him in math. He would've let it slide if it were just math, but you had scored higher in everything except art. To top it off, when he made the off comment about it you said,

"Oh, it's not like it was hard."

And from that day on, he decided that you were his biggest rival and his life goal would be to knock you off your high perch.

Somewhere along the line, you had caught onto Renjun's hostility towards you. It was so amusing watching him get ticked off at your smug comments, how could you stop making them? So you decided that your life goal would be to never let Renjun know peace.

This rivalry, of course, bled into high school and where the two of you stood in present time. Senior year, AP classes, volunteer work, college entrance preparation, the future.

Oh, the future.

"Y/n, can we get a friend discount?"

"No."

A sigh escapes your mouth. Friday night, 8pm. Family-run diner packed to the brim with teenagers celebrating their football win against the school across town. Clad in the retro diner uniform your mom insisted on, you glide across the floor back behind the counter to yell whatever the table of jocks ordered to the kitchen.

"Busy night huh?"

You rest your head on your mom's shoulder, a habit you've had since childhood.

"Sometimes I wish our diner was less popular."

"Now that wouldn't be great for business," Your mom laughs in response to your childish grumble. "You'll learn to enjoy it once you take over."

The family business that's been passed down for decades. The future that's been decided for you before you were even conceived. You've known that your whole life, yet, for some reason, you weren't sure about it.

Your response should've been much more enthusiastic. But all you could manage was a quiet "I know" before turning to bring the cheerleaders their curly fries.

Renjun thinks he's finally lost it. What other explanation could there be to him staring across the fence from his bedroom window to yours. Your light was on, so you were home. But from the shadows moving around he could tell you weren't at your desk preparing for class like usual.

Renjun thinks he's finally gone bonkers. What other explanation could there be to his inability to focus on his four page essay for AP literature. He was usually good at cranking out fancy words and analysis. But for some reason, he found his mind somewhere else.

Renjun thinks he's finally gone deranged. What other explanation could there be to him climbing out his window (his parents could never know), jumping the fence, and standing under yours. A few well aimed twig throws at your glass was enough for you to stick your head out in confusion.

"Renjun what the hell?"

"Come out. We're going for a ride."

So you begrudgingly close your window and look for a coat to wear over your pajamas.

And for the record, Renjun isn't a stalker. Just a neighbor.

"You know, when you said "we're going for a ride", I kind of thought you meant in a car? As in, car ride?"

"And risk my life for you? No way. We're taking the bus."

11:45pm. You were following Renjun as he sped walked through the quiet residential neighborhood. The two of you passed multiple bus stops along the way but none of them had buses running at this hour.

"Just say you can't drive." You scoff, trying to keep up with the boy in front.

"Well, neither can you. With your brains, I thought you would've breezed the driving test."

"Touché."

The bus arrived at 12am sharp. The bus stop was a fifteen minute walk away from your houses and the two of you barely got on, eyes squinted at the sudden neon lights of the bus interior. The bus driver, a woman in her late forties you presume, audibly clicks her tongue at the sight of you both. You don't blame her, you would probably do the same if you were still working at midnight.

You find a seat in the back half of the bus as to give the lady some peace (though she chooses to put on headphones anyway). Renjun sits in the seat on the other side, though the seats were made for two and there was definitely no one sitting next to you. An awkward silence fills the air as the bus heaves into motion, taking the two of you somewhere unknown.

It was kind of relaxing, you thought. Watching streetlamps pass by in a flash, hearing the faint tune of ABBA songs leaking through the driver's headphones, feeling the bus rumble underneath your body. It was almost like you were running away.

"So... What's up with you," Your neighbor awkwardly begins. "I noticed you weren't really yourself lately."

"Aw, does somebody care about me?"

Renjun never thought that hearing the familiar mocking tone that was the bane of his existence would be so comforting. You were still there. You hadn't changed.

"In your dreams." He hides his smile in his palm and keeps his eyes on the scenery passing by, "Unfortunate for me, living next door to you makes me notice things I don't care for."

His eyes slowly move to check on you when you don't say anything. You sat back in your seat, a long hum as a response.

"I don't know."

"The fuck you mean you don't know-"

"Do you ever feel unsure of the future?"

Renjun's sharp retort was cut short. He was caught off guard by your question. You refuse to look at him, making sure your head was turned to face the glass.

"My family expects me to do one thing but maybe... that's not what I want to do, y'know?"

Honestly, you don't know what's possessed you. Why were you spilling your feelings out to your sworn rival? What if he uses this as blackmail or something?

"I get it."

That's all he says. No mockery in his voice, no teasing to be seen. You look over to find Renjun looking at you with a soft gaze. As if you were something extremely precious to him. So you can't help but reveal more to the boy looking at you so gently.

"The world is so big and I'm not sure if being tied down to the family diner is something I want. Like, I know I'll be disappointing my parents but I don't think that's the future I want."

"Then don't."

"Wow! You're so smart! Why didn't I think of that?" You reply sarcastically. You shouldn't be grinning. But you couldn't help it.

"Thanks. I'm the future valedictorian." Renjun smirks, turning his eyes back outside.

"As if. That's my title."

You continue whining about your parents expectations and plans for you and the diner after college. It was a lot but Renjun didn't once complain. He just sat on the other side of the bus, listening.

A weight had been lifted off your heart. Who knew you could be such a whiner? The conversation dims down as the warm colored streetlamps turn into fluorescent ones. You notice the buildings turn into grey skyscrapers and the bus was suddenly making its way into the bustling city.

You turn your head in awe at the sights. Truth be told, you don't make many trips into town, always too busy in your little suburb with whatever activity to add onto your college application. Which is why you almost miss Renjun's words.

"I want to go to art school."

It was a quiet murmur. Nearly drowned out by the bus engine and the honks of city cars.

"I thought your dream was med school?" You weren't poking fun, you genuinely thought Renjun was aiming to be a doctor. Your entire grade did. He scoffs.

"That's my parents' dream. They want the entire family to be in the medical field. It doesn't matter what we want." Renjun's eyes are facing the window, yet, they weren't focused on anything at all.

"Well, I think you'd do great in art school. You're always great at anything artsy." You admit, fidgeting with your coat. He raises his eyebrow and looks at you.

"You noticed?"

"It's hard to miss when you make the best pieces in the whole school. And I remember "Singin' in the Rain" in middle school. You're extremely talented at singing too."

Renjun can't help the smile that blooms on his face.

"You remember."

"Uh, yeah? You literally had a standing ovation."

Renjun never thought you would remember or pay attention to any of that about him. For some strange reason, his heart skipped a beat and he turns back to the window to hide his reddening cheeks.

"Last stop. Get off."

The bus driver said, promptly leaving the second the two of you step off.

"Why is the last stop at a seven eleven?"

"That is kind of weird. Do you think she just kicked us off because she got tired of our bitching?"

You both giggle before stepping into the convenience store. The cashier spares an uninterested glance, then returns the attention back to his phone.

Weaving in and out of the aisles and nearly slipping on some unknown liquid on the tile, Renjun picks out a packet of Haribo bears while you fill a cup of big gulp, nose scrunching up upon touching the sticky machine. Upon exiting the store and leaving the uninterested cashier behind, Renjun tells you he knows a place the two of you could go to share your goods.

"Though we're going to have to break some rules getting there. Think you're up for that, top student?"

"Why of course, second top student."

You had no idea breaking some rules entailed sneaking past the sleeping security guard and jumping over some barriers in a paid car park building. How did Renjun even know this?

"Isn't this illegal?"

"Only if we get caught." Renjun winks, "and I know for a fact they don't check the cameras regularly."

Renjun holds out his hand for support. You take it and jump off a small ledge. You admit, it was exhilarating. And was your heart beating because of the adrenaline, or was it Renjun's hand that he didn't pull away, even after you landed.

"We're here."

Renjun opens the door and reveals the rooftop parking lot. The air was cold against your flushed face and the empty space seven floors up made you feel like you were floating amongst the grey jungle. You run out, stretching your arms before lying on your back, not caring about how dirty the ground was. You felt free.

"I don't want to make 9pm coffees for the book club ladies for the rest of my life!" You yell into the open air.

Your partner in crime (literally) laughs before joining you on the cold concrete.

"Well, well. Look how far the top student has fallen. How would the principal feel knowing you've trespassed."

You roll your eyes, a stupid smile etched on your face. Placing down your icy drink, you turn your body to face the boy.

"I could say the same about you. Aren't you runner up for valedictorian? After me, of course."

"Actually, I'm number one contender." He responds, turning to mirror your position.

Oh.

The two of you were closer than expected. Lying on a dirty parking lot floor, noses almost touching.

Oh.

His eyes flit down to your lips.

You cough awkwardly before sitting up, red in the face.

"Do you want to try some of my drink?"

"Yeah, okay."

He silently sips on the drink. Though it was cold, it couldn't calm his burning ears down.

A few hours pass. The two of you spent that time stargazing, talking about whatever on your minds, and exchanging shy touches.

"Do you believe in aliens?"

"Uh, yeah I do. Space is massive - I doubt humans are the only intelligent life form out there."

Except all good things must come to an end. Come 3am, the two of you tread back to the seven eleven, hoping a bus would be there to take you home.

"Do you think the guy's still at the register?"

"Probably. I snuck a look at his phone earlier. I think he's been caught cheating."

The pair of you snicker and a bus rolls up. The doors open to reveal the same driver you had coming over.

"Lovebirds on their way home now, eh?"

"What? We're- we're not-"

"Oh give up. I've seen enough of you to know what's going on. Are you two getting on or not."

With matching red faces, you and Renjun board the bus. Except this time, he sits next to you, not on the other side.

"You're awful at drawing." Renjun laughs. Your attempt at drawing him on cold window cries a little, the condensation dripping where you touched it.

"Yeah, well. There's a reason you're always top of art."

He smiles, reaching past you to draw his version of you. It looked much better than whatever you drew and you were never the one to let him win. So you destroyed both drawings with one swipe of your palm.

"Sore loser."

"Cry about it."

Arm in arm, you walked home together at the same pace. Renjun slowing down so he'd match your comfortable speed. You'd never thought you would ever leave the house, spend time with your rival, only to come back with some weird tension between the two of you.

Renjun sends you to your doorstep and you turn to him.

"Thanks for cheering me up. It really helped."

"Don't worry about it. I also ended up getting stuff off my chest too."

Then he cracks the cutest smile and you couldn't stop yourself.

You kissed him.

On the cheek. You weren't ready for the lip on lip thing just yet.

"I'll see you Monday then." You hurriedly mutter, rushing inside to hide your embarrassment and to avoid seeing his reaction.

"Yeah. Monday." Renjun whispers into the night, a soft smile on his face.

EPILOUGE

"Renjun, you've got to start cleaning up your paint pots."

Your boyfriend looks up from his easel, eyes sparkling realizing it was you.

"You're home early!"

It was a couple of years later. Renjun was perusing his art career after having a thorough talk with his family (it took a few months), which explained the apartment-studio thing going on.

You came clean to yours about not wanting to take over the diner. Though you expected them to look at you in disappointment, they didn't. All they said was that they were proud of you for dreaming.

And now, you were sharing an apartment with the love of your life (who was currently covered in paint), once rival (you are now also covered in paint. He gave you a massive hug and a welcome home kiss).

[canyonmooningg]

our song

pairing: ex boyfriend! harry x y/n

summary: harry approaches you at your senior prom

word count: 3k

____________________________________________

You watched from your seat at one of the many tables that lined the dance floor as a multitude of couples danced to the loud music blaring from the speakers. Your senior prom was in full swing, and while everyone was laughing and having a great night, you were sitting away from the crowd, zoning in and out of consciousness as your gaze landed on your ex boyfriend, dancing with his date for the night. 

“Are you cold?” 

The voice of your current boyfriend, Marcus, brought you back to reality. He had his coat outstretched to you, awaiting your reply. 

“Huh? Oh, no I’m okay Marcus, but thank you. I would love a drink though”

“Sure thing, I’ll be right back!”

Poor thing, you thought. Marcus was a sweetheart, more so now that he was even willing to accompany you to your prom, despite being a few years older than you and well into college. You started dating him fairly soon after you and Harry broke up four months ago, and has been a great boyfriend in every way–the only problem was, he wasn’t Harry. 

You and Harry had only been together for six months, but you tortured each other ever since. Heated glances from across the classroom, being put in the same groups for presentations, ending up at the same parties–no matter how much you wanted to keep your distance from him, he was always there. You were head over heels in love with him, and was devastated when he broke up with you, claiming he wanted to “focus on school” or his job or whatever excuse he gave. Still to this day you never knew why he ended it, but it broke your heart. Since then it seemed that your feelings for him never stopped, despite him dating girl after girl in the months since and you meeting Marcus. Marcus was a needed distraction from Harry-–the only problem was, he wasn’t distracting enough. 

Your eyes found Harry and his new girl, Sarah, swaying to one of the slower songs the DJ played occasionally throughout the night. From the corner of your eye you could see Marcus coming back with two drinks in hand, one for him and one for you. Just as Marcus got to your table, Harry’s eyes met yours in an intense stare. As much as you wanted to look away, his eyes were almost daring you to stay on his. His eyes scanned your frame as he pulled Sarah even closer to him, her back facing you as they slowly swayed to the music. It was clear they were having a conversation, because you could see him smile at something she said, but his eyes never left yours. You felt a chill go down your spine at the feeling of being watched so intently and you shifted slightly in your seat, unsure of what to do. Fortunately, Marcus made the decision for you, as you were the first to break the stare when you felt a light tap on your shoulder.

“Here’s that drink, did you want to dance at all tonight?”

You felt bad for him, as you had been sitting most of the night. Dances weren’t really your style. Your feet would always hurt, and there were always so many people on the dance floor that your claustrophobia would inevitably kick in. You only went to dances to socialize with your friends, but tonight your friends were out on the dance floor with their dates, likely capitalizing on their last prom before they graduate. Your eyes flitted to where Harry was but he was walking off the dance floor and making his way to the DJ, probably to request some song Sarah wanted to hear.

“Sure, let’s go.” You took a final swig of your drink before leaving the table and making your way to the dance floor. 

Finding a space between the other couples, you and Marcus began to sway with the music, his hands on your hips and yours around his neck. Yet again, as if he was haunting you, Harry and Sarah were right behind Marcus, and your eyes found his green ones once more. It almost seemed like he was angry with you with how intense his eyes seemed, but when his eyes moved down to your chest you realized it was not anger but longing. Suddenly the room felt very hot as you tried valiantly to listen to whatever Marcus was saying to you, something about his friend from work maybe? You had stopped listening long ago. You looked down to take in Harry’s black suit, with the buttons of his white collared shirt underneath slightly undone to reveal his staple gold cross necklace. You were just beginning to make out the twin swallow tattoos on his chest—the same ones you went with him to get immediately after he turned 18—when a new song started that had you frozen in place. 

It was your song. The song he played for you every time he took you home from school. The song he played during your car makeout sessions. The song he played when you failed your math test and cried in his arms. It was the very same song playing in the background when he told you he loved you for the first time.

You felt incredibly overwhelmed now, and as your mind was racing with the bittersweet memories this song brought back to you, you noticed Harry leave a very confused Sarah and make his way over to where you and Marcus were. It was almost as if Harry forgot about Marcus’s existence completely when he approached you and lightly grabbed your arm and without saying a word, pulled you from Marcus, and pulled you tightly into his arms. Your heart was beating so fast you thought it was a wonder you were still able to stand up. 

Your hands wrapped around his neck as his arms held your hips impossibly close to his own. His eyes seemed to bore into your soul, and as the song carried on, his eyes flicked down to your lips. He seemed to get closer and closer and before your brain could catch up to what was happening in the moment, his lips ghosted over yours. You could barely breathe, and before he could finally press his lips to yours, you pulled back and came to your senses.

“What are you doing, Harry?” you asked breathlessly. You hated how easily flustered he made you, and how quick you were to abandon Marcus just because Harry wanted you. 

“I’m dancing,” you heard him say with amusement. He leaned impossibly close to your ear and whispered, “This is our song, remember?”

His voice sent chills down your body and for a second you couldn’t form a single thought. The sheer proximity of his body to yours had you struggling to think clearly. Suddenly, you remembered earlier in the night when Harry had gone up to the DJ. You put the pieces together, and suddenly realized:

“It was you, wasn’t it? You requested our song” you said in an accusing whisper.

“Ah, so you do remember!” he replied tauntingly. “You’ve had my attention all night, I had to do something to get you in my arms.”

You could hardly believe what you were hearing. Clearly he doesn’t want me if he was the one who broke up with me in the first place, you thought to yourself, getting more confused as you continue to sway with him.

“Harry, you were the one who broke up with me!” Has he lost his mind? You thought to yourself.

“Yeah”, he started, “But it doesn’t change the fact I still want you.”

By now, his face was so close to your own that you could feel his warm breath on your face, and the tips of your noses were so close that any movement forward and they would touch. He continued:

“I can’t stop thinking about you, Y/N. I thought I could get over you, but I can’t, and believe me, I’ve tried.” He paused for a moment, searching your eyes for you to understand what he was trying to say. When it was clear to him that you still didn’t understand what he was trying to tell you, he began again:

“Nobody can ever measure up to who you were to me, and” he looked at you earnestly as he tried to find the right words to say. “And, I was a fool for trying.”

Your head was spinning with his sudden confession. What is he saying? You thought to yourself. Is he saying he’s sorry? Is he saying he still loves me and wants to be with me again? Part of you wants to tell him to fuck off, and that this is too little too late. But the other part of you–the part of you who has never stopped loving him despite the fact he broke your heart–is begging you to cave and take him back. 

Your train of thought is interrupted by the feeling of Harry’s hand lifting up your chin to meet his eyes. He looks nervous, more nervous than you’ve ever seen him before. He looks at you, waiting for you to say anything in response to what he said. You manage to stumble out something while trying to calm your butterflies at the feeling of Harry touching your face. 

“Harry, I–” you start, forgetting what you were going to say the minute you began. You try again. “I–”

“Y/N do you still love me?” Harry interrupted.

You couldn’t believe what he just asked you. Why was he doing this here? Right now? In front of everybody? Including our dates?! What is he thinking??

“Because I still love you, Y/N. Never stopped,” he rushed out anxiously. “I was afraid before, and thought maybe I was just obsessed with you and that it was a phase I would grow out of, and that it was better for both of us if I ended things before you got hurt, but–”

You couldn’t take it anymore. 

“‘Before you got hurt’?” you threw his own words back at him. “Harry, I was devastated! You hurt me more than you could ever imagine! I loved you and you just left me.” You saw that Harry looked surprised by your sudden venom, evidently not expecting you to react this way, but you could see the sadness in his eyes that told you that he knew you were right. 

“Of course I still love you, I never stopped loving you,” you continued, reaching your hand from around his neck into his hair, playing absentmindedly with one of his brown curls. “But if you were able to hurt me while you still loved me, how will I know you won’t do it again?” You say, softer this time. 

Before Harry could respond, your song ended and the DJ came on the mic to announce that the next song would be the slow dance song. You immediately recognized the beginning sounds of “Can’t Help Falling in Love,” and as Elvis crooned out the lyrics to what had to be your favorite song of all time, Harry brought his hand from your waist to the side of your face, cupping your cheek. 

“I’m sorry for the hurt I caused you,” he started, looking intently into your eyes. “I guess I just want you to know how much I love you, and how every time I hear our song, or see a couple walking down the street, or even when I lay in bed every night, I–” he faltered. “I always think about you. I miss you so much, Y/N, and I guess…” he said, with his eyes beginning to tear up a bit. “I guess I just wanted you to know that.”

“Why now?” you ask. “Why are you only doing this now, when we’ve been broken up for months, and when I’m with somebody else and happy with them?” 

“But are you?” he questioned.

“Am I what?” you reply, confused at what he could be playing at now.

“Are you happy? With him” he turned his head slightly to glance behind him to where Marcus now sat with Sarah, both visibly upset and annoyed at their night ending this way. 

Am I happy with Marcus? You thought to yourself. He’s incredibly sweet, and kind, and while your feelings for him weren’t the same as they were for Harry, Marcus was stable and made you feel secure. 

Your lack of response encouraged Harry to press on:

“Does he make you happy like I made you happy? Do you feel with him what you felt with me? Does he—” he swallowed and looked down to your lips for a split second before returning to look into your eyes with a desperate look. “Does he kiss you like I kissed you?” 

Your eyes widen in shock and before you can respond, he cups your face in both of his hands and pleads, “Y/N please, just—” You notice that his eyes are glossier now than before. Is he starting to cry? You briefly think to yourself before he continues his thought, stumbling through his words. “Just, just love me please. I’m lost without you, and seeing you with him I– I just couldn’t watch anymore. I’m sorry for being an idiot. I h-hope you can trust me again and trust me when I say I don’t ever want to lose you again.”

By now his curls had fallen slightly in front of his face and a tear was threatening to run down his cheek. Seeing him this upset and feelings laid bare for you was overwhelming. It made the part of you that was still hurt after Harry broke up with you feel vindicated that he was crawling back to you in this way, but there is this small voice in your head that is getting louder and louder with each of Harry’s assurances of his love that was telling you that this just isn’t right.

“Harry, are you only doing this because you are jealous of Marcus? Because if this is just because you feel possessive of me then I don’t think—”

“I promise you, it’s not that” he interrupted. “Well, it’s not only because of that I guess” he chuckled to himself nervously. “I guess I just realized that if I spend every waking minute of my life only thinking of you then it means I’m ruined for anyone else, and you are the only one I’ll ever love.”

His confession had your heart fluttering and had you at a loss of words. Everything in you wanted to be back with him, but you couldn’t help but feel insecure that he’d change his mind in a few months and break your heart again.

“Are you sure you won’t change your mind later” you whisper, cautious of how true his intentions were. 

“I won’t, please…” his face inching closer to yours, now overwhelmingly close to your face. 

For a moment, you almost close the gap and finally kiss him. After all, this is what you have wanted, right? You’ve been looking longingly at him ever since he broke up with you, have been jealous of all the girls he’d kiss in the parking lot after school, and haven’t given 100% in your relationship with Marcus simply because you were still hung up on this love you had with Harry that you saw as being perfect. So why were you feeling so uneasy? 

You glance behind Harry’s shoulder, and see Marcus sitting down at your table with his head in his hands. In an instant, your heart broke. Marcus seemed so hurt at the prospect of you going to someone else, and it dawned on you that Harry actively tried to hurt you by flaunting all those different girls in front of you these past 6 months. Anytime you were anywhere near him, he made sure to put his arm over whatever girl he was with at the time and look at you intentionally, almost trying to provoke you or make you feel bad about yourself. Marcus would never do that. Everything he did was to help you and to make you feel like you were worthy of love. 

Before Harry could lean forward any closer, you immediately pull back, and get your hands away from his neck. His eyes widened in surprise, almost as if he didn’t expect you to stand up for yourself. 

“Y/N…” he tried.

“No, Harry” you interrupt him, full of clarity. “I’m not falling for this. If you wanted me, if you truly loved me, you wouldn’t have left me and you certainly wouldn’t have rubbed it in my face with every new girl you would wave in front of me. Goodbye, Harry.”

You left a confused and desperate Harry on the dance floor, and you could hear him call your name in a last ditch effort to convince you to come back to him. 

You make your way to Marcus, still sitting at your table, and grab his arm gently. You softly say in his ear, “I have to get out of here, let’s go.” He looked up at you, with slightly teary eyes, in confusion. 

“I thought you were going off with him,” he replied solemnly and glanced over to Harry, who was now off the dance floor and in a heated argument with Sarah. 

“No, he and I are done,” you assured him. “He won’t ever get between us again, Marcus, and I’m sorry for letting it go so far.” 

Marcus seemed to understand, and replied, “Let’s get out of here, and we can talk about it when we aren’t around so many people, okay?”

You remembered just how introverted Marcus was, and how he was probably stressed out the whole night just because of how many people were around. It dawned on you how much he had to step out of his comfort zone just to come with you tonight. Yet another reason why you made the right choice.

“Okay” you replied, latching onto his arm and glancing one last time at Harry, who was already staring at you with a defeated look in his eyes. You look back to Marcus and smile, and tell him:

“Lead the way.”

____________________________________________

Thank you for reading, please like, reblog, and comment if you liked it :)

-K

[jeonstellate]

the announcement of the prom court is supposedly the night’s most anticipated event — and it still is, except your senior class is too invested in finding out who the receiver of chan’s white gardenia might be.

✦༄ bang chan x gender neutral!reader

✦༄ high school!au, prom!au, athlete!au — crack(?), fluff

✦༄ social media format

✦༄ taylor swift's lavender haze has nothing to do with this, but i did get the title from there. heh. also, if it's not obvious enough— yes, this is inspired by chan giving roses in kcon :]

✦ profiles

✦༄ episode i

✦༄ episode ii

✦༄ episode iii

✦༄ episode iv

✦༄ episode v

✦༄ episode vi

✦༄ episode vii

✦༄ episode viii

[fuckyeahskzfics]

A Thousand Stars

Title: A Thousand Stars (♡) Author: Disstrack Pairing: Changbin/Felix Length: Oneshot Rating: T Genre: Angst, Highschool!AU, Changbin-centric Warnings: Homophobia

Summary: Changbin's junior year life currently revolves around the following three things: prom, his sexuality, and Felix.

[ask-highschool-james-madison]

Alexander cornered james in the bathroom, smiling, though it was full of malice.

"james, i got an assignment i need you to do. It's a science project and you know how much i dread science. I'll put the instructions in your locker,"

his smile then faded, and he continued.

"but if you make me look like a fool and fail, you know what I'll do.."

He cracked his knuckles.

*James’s eyes widen, he shivers but nods quickly* “o-okay.. I’ll do it..calm down please..”

[petitelepus]

Tfa highschool reader is having a hard time moving around because of her knee brace and crunches

Okay, it sucked to have your knee packed up like Monday's lunch, and moving with the crutches was a chore.

Not that you minded, you were in great shape thanks to basketball practices, but you were getting sick of everything being so difficult.

You cursed under your breath as you made your way towards the elevator because God knows why, you somehow had all your lessons on the third floor...

Only to see that the elevator was out of use.

"Ugh, what kind of a school is this!?" You cursed the bad design, followed by curses at the broken elevator. You couldn't miss the classes, you would otherwise get a mark on your records!

You cursed as you made your way towards the busy stairs, but before you got far, you heard a familiar voice coming from behind you.

"Sweetheart?"

"Ah," You smiled for the first time that day as you turned around and addressed your boyfriend Optimus Prime, "Hi OP."

"What happened!? Why is your leg patched like that!?"

"Oh you know, girl stuff and such," You talked around, not really wanting to relive the moment when you actually did hurt your knee.

Optimus frowned as he looked at you, "We have lessons on the top floor, why aren't you using the elevator?"

"Damn thing is broken, like everything else in this school is...!" You cursed quietly and Optimus nodded quietly, "I guess that leaves me no choice."

"What-?" You were about to ask when your boyfriend suddenly picked you up like you were a damsel in distress and started to carry you up the stairs.

"Optimus, put me down, this is-! Oh, hey, this is actually pretty nice..." You smiled as you were carried like a princess to the top floor.

As your loving and strong boyfriend put you down to your desk at the classroom, you smiled happily, "Thanks."

"Anytime my sweetheart. Just tap my shoulder when you want me to take you back down." Optimus said and you smiled as you nodded, "I will. Thank you OP, you are amazing."

The young Prime smiled as he took his seat behind the classroom and your earlier bad mood was ancient history as you drew little hearts at the corner of your notebook.

[bear-cubs-art-things]

Nerds 🩵💕💖

[practicedvmm13fullofpotatoes]

Did highschool melvin have a crush on erica still?even after elementry? And middle school?

Just a slight tiny tiny crush

Maybe a daydream every once in a while but it’s still a small crush

[fleurissimoo]

Rain and us [2/3. paraheal | Omen/Sage]

(This takes the inspiration from the first picture attached in this post. Omen is the one on the right and Sage is the other one.)

Frederick just couldn't see Yingwei running down the school yard without an umbrella like that.

He just finished his cleaning duty when it was drizzling. Arriving at the first floor, he saw someone familiar with a book on the top of her head, ready to run. Frederick walked towards her fast and opened his umbrella. As she started walking, Frederick's umbrella was already covering her head, making the girl turned her head around.

"Fred?"

"Do you want to go home?"

The girl in ponytail nodded. "Ah, yes."

"Let me accompany you, since you don't ... bring your umbrella with you."

Frederick opened his umbrella and covered her head, then looked away. His cheeks started to burn a little bit. The girl smiled and put her book on her bag. Then, she went closer to him as her hand moved the umbrella so it could cover them both.

"Thank you, Fred."

(Art: @/Kim_Gilgyu on Twitter)

[thiswasinevitable-rwrb]

Alexander Hamilton Hall - FirstPrince | Red, White, & Royal Blue - ch. 3!

• • • Preview • • •

On the siblings’ way back upstairs, Alex checked his phone and asked June, “You’re not into screenplays, are you?”

She didn’t bother asking why he was asking, but rather, to elaborate. “Do tell.”

“Well, I assume Henry talks about plays in the dramaturgy club, but I thought he would talk more about the show he’s working on. He’s gone quiet.”

June laughed softly from his bedroom doorway. “Are you upset he isn’t talking to you on a Friday night?”

“I’m not upset,” Alex refuted. “I’m trying to figure out what makes this guy open up.”

[fictionalshippingbean]

Ink: My stomach growled super loud in French.

Ink: I would like to clarify, my stomach did not speak in French. It growled during French class.

Dream: Bonjour.

Cinna: Le growl.

Error: Hon hon hon, feed me a baguette.

[wanologic]

and they were roommates

[thornnii]

⎯ ☆ totally baller

genre: fluff wordcount: 3k pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader tags: you/yours pronouns (2nd person pov), high school!au, basketball player luke, fem!reader, sunshine!reader, established relationship, luke is maths/science smart & reader is english & humanities smart, possibly ooc luke, swearing, talk of food/being hungry, kisses summary: what was supposed to be a study date after luke's basketball practice somehow turned into a 2am convenience store run notes: special mention to @kiyasoup asked to be tagged

↳ return to masterlist

you sat on the bleachers in the gymnasium, headphones covering your ears as you attempted to focus on catching up on your homework, but somehow the squeak of trainers on the laminated flooring and the thump of rubber basketballs still managed to penetrate through the music that flooded into your ears. a quick glance at your watch told you that the coach would be calling time soon, so you began to pack up your school supplies so that you could leave the gym as quickly as possible. it wasn’t that you minded hanging out in the gym after school on tuesdays to watch your boyfriend’s basketball practice, but when all you could smell was sweat, you were ready to leave.

the team had filed out into the changing rooms so you headed outside to wait for luke, taking the chance to fill your lungs with a deep breath of fresh air. it didn’t take him long to join you, five minutes maximum. he came up from behind and wrapped an arm around your shoulders to pull you into him, only for you to push him away again. “you stink, luke!” you complained. his only response was to pull you to him once again and press a kiss to your temple. you grumbled but allowed it.

“you still coming over?” you asked.

“of course.” it had become tradition when you’d started dating that luke would come over to your house after his tuesday practice.

“and staying for dinner?” you pressed a kiss to the hand that was draped around your shoulder.

“of course.” he reiterated with another kiss to your temple.

it was a maximum of a 15 minute walk back to your house and you and luke shared playful banter the entire way there. that was something you loved about your relationship with him, even with the banter luke was always a true gentleman towards you; always making sure to follow ‘the sidewalk rule’, presenting you with little handmade gifts and small bouquets of flowers at each date. such gifts either being placed around your room or into your memory box, which was full of things given to you by luke during your relationship.

every time that luke entered your room, he would always look around at all the gifts you had arranged around your room. eventually you pushed him away from his gawking and towards your bathroom, telling him to take a shower to wash away the scent of sweat that stained his uniform.

whilst he freshened up, you got out your notebook and maths textbook from your bag. 5 sets of questions, each with multiple parts for all of them. you sighed as you looked at all the work you had to do. for some reason luke never had any issues when it came to mathematics, able to breeze through it, but you hated the class passionately, often cribbing off his notes for homework. this time however you were vehement in trying to do it yourself.

you changed in preference for doing your homework in your pyjamas instead. getting into a comfortable position on the bed you looked over the workload with slight disdain, but with a sigh you began. it took about 10 more minutes until luke reappeared. you were feeling confident with your work, had gotten through the first set of questions and a good chunk of the second as well.

feeling luke’s presence you looked away from the books, meeting the soft gaze of his warm brown eyes. “you started without me.” he pouted. luke had changed into some of the clothes that you kept at your house for him; a loose t-shirt and a pair of pyjama bottoms.

“it’s homework.” you raised an eyebrow at him, judging how he was pouting for not being able to start maths homework with you.

luke climbed onto the bed, sliding behind you and slipping his arms around your waist, while his chin rested upon your shoulder. he was observing the work that you’d already done, and you continued to let him do so silently. it was like a method of proof-reading that the two of you had developed, you let him scan for any errors so that you’d have the highest score you could when you were finished.

“yeah. but it’s a study date.” he emphasised “we’re supposed to do things together on a date.” even if you couldn’t see it, you could feel the pout that adorned his face.

“fine then. help me with my work.” you leant back into his embrace.

he gave a sigh, wrapping his arms tighter around you as you moved your notebook towards him. “gods, you are so fucking lucky I love you. you know that right?” punctuating his words with kisses to your temple.

“mhmm. work.” you prompted him to take the book once more.

dinner was just something simple. a handful of chicken nuggets each and some chunky chips. took no longer than 30 minutes to be cooked in the oven and evenly plated between the two of you. you and luke spent the meal talking about your respective days, talking about the classes that you didn’t share, listening to luke talk about the gossip amongst the basketball team.

it didn’t take more than an hour for you and luke to journey back upstairs to continue with the work you’d each been given. after finishing your maths, you had history homework where you had to write an essay about ancient greece. it was a subject that you had affluent knowledge of, and you knew that the essay wouldn’t take you long. after dinner you’d moved to work at your desk in preference of having a solid surface to write on, but luke remainded on your bed. glancing over at him, you noticed the narrowing of his eyes, the scrunch of his brows, how he was tapping his pen against his own notebook as he stared at the page in deep thought. moving slightly to see what it was he was working on, you saw his page titled: “gendered language studies”. so, he was working on english theory. luke was always more comfortable when it came to maths, while you always preferred english or the humanities, like history and geography.

“luke, what’s wrong, baby?” you asked softly.

“it’s this fucking homework. I dunno what I’m supposed to be doing.” he leaned back sighing.

“well, what is it that you’re meant to do? maybe I can help?”

“uh, well. I’m supposed to be making notes from this gendered language article.” he gestured to the work in front of him.

“can you just make bullet points? when’s it due?” you asked, nodding your head at the article sheet.

“it’s not due for a week or so. I guess bullet points would work for now.” he looked back down at his work.

“yeah, and then you can flesh it out at a later date.” you had stood up, now pressing a soft kiss to the top of Luke’s head. just as you went to go back to your desk, luke grabbed your wrist, pulling you back to him suddenly.

“luke, you dick!” you exclaimed, caught off guard by his actions, “I’ve got my own work to do.” you gestured vaguely behind you at your desk where your own work lay.

“no! stay!” you could hear the infamous pout once more.

“at the very least let me finish my sentence.” you offered a compromise.

“fine.” you shuffled back over to your desk to finish your sentence and pack away your school supplies. you could hear movement back on the bed and could only assume that luke was also packing up his belongings that were strewn across your bed. your assumption was proven to be true when you turned to face him and your bed was clear, apart from luke himself, who remained laid out on the bed, arms out in the air as he waited for you to enter his embrace.

you happily slid between his arms, falling onto the bed next to him with a bounce of the mattress. instantly luke was holding onto you like a vice, as if the moment he loosened his grip on you, you’d be taken away from him, never to return. not that you minded. when you and luke were curled up like this, limbs tangled together, you’d rest your head upon his chest and just listen to the soothing beat of his heart. that, his murmuring of sweet nothings, and the warm he seemed to naturally exude, quickly lulled you to sleep.

you awoke groggily. looking around your room, you weren’t sure what had woken you up. the room was dark now, but your eyes were hastily adjusting, making out the silhouettes of your desk, your bookcase, and your boyfriend, who still held onto you securely. reaching a hand out towards the nightstand where your phone was charging, you patted around the surface until you found it, raising the device in front of your face. the numbers ‘2:15am’ shone back at you.

the sudden light had blinded you slightly, causing you to blink and squint at your phone before being able to fully register what was being displayed. when you did take it in, you let out a disgruntled groan. something had woken you up, in the ridiculously early hours of the morning, for no apparent reason. you wanted to let out a scream, but at the same time you didn’t want to wake Luke who was still fast asleep. actually, the more you looked at his face, the more you did want him to wake up. it was unfair, why should he get to have uninterrupted sleep when you didn’t?

trying to settle down again, you closed your eyes and tried to get into the state of ambiance that had taken you to dreamland previously. alas, sleep failed you. and with the amount of tossing and turning you’d been doing you were surprised that luke hadn’t stirred.

it had been half an hour since you’d first woken up, and you’d figured out why you had woken up. it seemed like every other minute your stomach was grumbling. in the end you gave in to your digestive system and tried getting out of the bed to scout the kitchen for any suitable snacks, but the second that you tried to rise up, the arms that rested around your waist tightened once more, making it impossible to move.

‘so now he chooses to not let me move. thanks dickhead.’ your thoughts were beginning to be influenced by your hangry condition. you began poking at his shoulder. “luke. luke. luke. luke. luke.” each poke was adorned with a whisper of his name, not wanting to wake anyone else in the house.

“luke. luke. luke. luke. luke. luke. luke. luke. luke. luke. luke. luke.” you were adamant in continuing until he woke up. that or your finger went dead from poking him for so long. either seemed possible.

feeling a shift, you continued poking him but rather than antagonising his shoulder any more, you moved to his cheek instead. squishing the smooth skin repeatedly as his slightly chapped lips let a groan tumble out. the arm that had been on top of your waist was raised to try and shield his face from the attacks.

“what do you want?” came muffled from under his bicep.

“want food.” you poked him once more.

“go and get some then.” he still refused to move his arm.

“don’t wanna go by myself.” luke finally moved his arm to look at you.

“seriously?” “yes.” “fuck, fine.” the arm that previously draped over his face was now used to prop himself up.

the journey to the kitchen didn’t take long but luke insisted on keeping his arms around you the entire time. you looked through the fridge and the cupboards but saw nothing that piqued your fancy.

“there’s nothing here.” you complained.

“there’s tons here.” luke raised an eyebrow.

“there is nothing that I currently want, right here, right now.” you clarified.

“then what do you want?” he held his hands out.

“I dunno, like, ice cream or chocolate cake, or chocolate ice cream cake.” you rattled off on your fingers, eyes widening in jubilance at the last option that came to you.

“so we’re gonna have to go to the corner store to get you food?”

“please?” you put on your best puppy dog eyes. you knew luke would never say no to you, but the pleading was just something to encourage that fact, stroke his ego a little.

“fine. have I told you how fucking lucky you are that I love you?” he stood in front of you now, arms never leaving their position.

“just a couple of times today. not enough.” you smiled cheekily.

“gods, I love you.” he alternated each word for a kiss to your forehead.

“I love you too.” you pulled his jaw back down to hold him in place for a kiss. “now,” you pulled away. “ice cream cake!” you turned and headed for the door, pulling Luke along behind you.

you couldn’t be bothered to change from your pyjamas, and it seemed as if luke felt the same, throwing on a hoodie before tossing another one in your direction. tugging a pair of shoes on, you grabbed your keys from their place by the front door before slipping quietly out with luke in tow.

the store was between a 15 to 20 minute walk from your house, but since it was the middle of the night there would be little holdup. it didn’t take long for the bright, neon lights to shine out a stark contrast against the dark midnight sky. in terms of corner stores, this one was pretty big; there were 4 aisles, a freezer section at the back, a self checkout and an assisted checkout behind which the 18+ items were stored.

as soon as you crossed the threshold of the store you were making your way to the freezers, scanning the shelves for what you desired. luke trudged in behind you, his arms once again finding their hold upon you. you two were the only customers in the store, the only other person a tired looking young adult behind the checkout till. scanning the frosty shelves behind the icy door, luke could see where you’d swiped away the condensation to get a clearer view at the contents of the freezer you stood in front of. having been to this store plenty of time before you’d known which freezer door to go to immediately for any frozen desserts.

luke was momentarily caught off guard when you stepped back to open the tall door before you, the small cardboard box that held the object of your desire finally having been sought out. you presented it gleefully to the sleep ridden form of your boyfriend who gave you a weary smile in return for your ecstatic beam. “ice cream cake!” you declared to him.

“ice cream cake.” luke agreed with a calm nod.

grabbing his hand, you dragged the boy to the front of the store with you, passing the cake box over to the bored store employee and fishing your card out the back of your phone case to pay. the cashier rattled off all the typical script that all retail employees were forced to memorise when they took the job. you ended up deciding against a bag since it was only the one item and it was fairly light. all in all you spent no longer than 10 minutes in the store, 5 at a minimum.

you and luke quietly slid back into your house and grabbed a couple of bowls, a knife to cut the cake with and a pair of spoons. treading carefully upstairs back to your room, luke turned on the fairy lights hung around the corners of your room, providing a soft and warm light to illuminate the sweet treat on your bed. you’d opened up the cardboard box to reveal the gooey chocolate cake before you. the two plates that luke had brought up for you from the kitchen sat next to you on the bed. after turning on the fairy lights by your bed, luke crouched down on the floor, watching as you carefully cut the cake, first in half, and then quarters, and finally into eighths. you carefully slid two slices into respective bowls for you and luke.

even if luke had never asked for a slice you knew it would be unjust to have made him walk all the way to the store with you and get this cake, just for him not to have any. luke gratefully accepted the bowl you gave to him, though he emitted a small shiver when his hands came in contact with the chilled bowl. you stifled a giggle at his actions, a spoonful of cake halfway to your lips as your other hand came up to suppress the laughter that threatened to burst forth. the two slices of cake were quickly devoured between the two of you.

it was now the latter half of 3am and now that your stomach was satiated, you began to feel your eyes droop once more. luke noticed immediately and gave a soft, contented sigh. he’d been ready to go back to sleep as soon as you’d pulled him from the cushioned warmth of your bed and off into the night.

as you eased into your slumbering, luke stacked up the bowls and cutlery, re-packaged the cake and placed them out of the way on your desk. picking you up carefully, bridal style, luke rested your head against his shoulder as he attempted to pull back the covers while still holding you against him.

“if you fucking drop me…” you let the empty threat hang groggily.

“I know, I know.” he promised with a gentle kiss to your hair.

eventually you lay, limbs tangled together once more, and let the drowsiness overcome you. luke seemed to fall asleep as soon as his head grazed the pillow, while you let the warmth of the sheets and the warmth of your boyfriend’s hoodie lull you off to dreamland.

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