#like I once cried when people invited me to their friend group at lunch | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

emile-hides · 3 years

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Crybaby imagines

I can’t find any BNHA X Reader blogs with their requests open, so heck it. Make the content you want to see in the world.

MHA Blonde boys react to reader crying (for various reasons)

Characters: All Might, Present Mic, Fatgum, Aoyama, Ojiro, Kaminari, Bakugo, Honenuki, Monoma, Mirio

All Might

1-A is an amazing bunch

It sort of just all hit you like a truck, really

How much 1-A had grown, how much they’d overcame

You’re not even entirely sure what sparked the thought process

But once it stared, you couldn’t stop

You were just so?? Proud??? Amazed???

Suddenly you were crying at your desk in the teacher’s lounge

Quiet, heavy tears

Your co-workers took notice, but it was Toshinori who approched your first asking what was wrong

You hadn’t even noticed you were crying

When you get into the why he’s all ears

He sits next to you and is soon joining in on the kid’s progress

He talks mostly about Bakugo and Midoriya, you go on about Asui and Koda

It turns to laughing and quietly bullying the kids for a moment as you two enjoy some of the sillier memories

Soon Toshinori, too, has tears in his eyes

He sobs more than you did

He’s just so proud of these kids!!

You feel like an old married couple talking about their 30-something kids living far from home

Kind of silly considering they’re all 15 and currently in class right down the hall

You two have to go see them during lunch break

Present Mic

Crying in Solidarity

You stood with Hizashi in front of a grave of a kid you never knew on an overcast day

He’d normally make a comment about the weather matching the mood but...

Not now

His fists were clenched, and though his smile stood strong and his glasses hid his eyes

They couldn’t catch his tears

You held his hand in silence and pretended not to notice the falling of his facade

It happens very seldom

He was shaking, you could hear his breath hitch hard despite his attempts to remain calm

You didn’t know this Shirokumo kid, you’d never met him, you couldn’t pick him out in a crowd if you had to

You didn’t even know who he was to Hizashi

But you knew it tore him up inside that he was buried here

You knew he kept his emotions well contained for everything else but him

You pulled Hizashi a bit closer, letting him lean onto you as tears began to run down your cheeks

The two of you stood in silence and cried on this, an overcast day

The weather really did match your mood.

Fatgum

Crying in relief

The hospital door opened with a loud slam

You didn’t really mean to slam it so hard but now wasn’t the time to go apologizing to inanimate objects for being a little rough

Your voice shrilled even louder than the door the name of the patient laying on the bed in the center of the room

Taishiro looked up with a face of ‘Oh shit’ which was the correct face to have

You were mad for all of the time it took to yell about how worried you were

FIRST OF ALL he didn’t even call to tell you he was in the hospital, you got that information from Tamaki

Second, you barely even know what HAPPENED to land him here

And THIRD,

Nope. Anger’s gone. Evaporated like a puddle in mid July.

Taishiro had sat up in his bed with a nervous smile, peppering in the nicknames and speaking in the gentle voice as he reached out to console you

Just seeing him sit up, his arms bandaged lightly around the wrist

It all just came crashing in

He was fine.

Tears over flowed as you cried a bit louder than you had yelled previously

Hiccuping and gasping out how worried you were and how mad you still wanted to be

Taishiro just laughed an apology as he hugged you, thankful for your concern

He promised to call next time

You found yourself yelling at him to never do this again

Aoyama

Crying on command

Acting was something you had mastered

More or less anyway

You dove head first into a role and you were damn good at it

But everyone has weaknesses

You’d locked yourself in Aoyama’s room, going over lines and choreography for some little play in the park you two had signed up for

Now you sat on his floor as he painted your nails, glaring daggers into the script

You had to cry.

It seemed so easy. Think of something sad and cry over it on stage. Simply.

and yet your eyes remained dry, your stage make-up perfect

Aoyama had been couching you, weeping all sorts of tears for your amusment

It wasn’t helping

You turned your glare to Aoyama, who was completely enthralled in drawing tiny art pieces into your nails

God he was bright

....bright.....

You looked directly up at the light on the ceiling and stared

Your eyes wide you forced yourself not to blink

It hurts

And it worked

You looked back to Aoyama with tears streaming down your face and searing pain in your retina

He applauded your dedication

Ojiro

It’s all just a lot

You weren’t really sure when it all became so much

But everything you’d been working at and training for suddenly weighed more than you could bare

You found yourself in the middle of the UA empty halls, flat on the ground on your stomach

Tripping was the breaking point

The straw that broke the camel’s back, as they say

You just started sobbing

When you heard footsteps coming you just kind of... wiggled out of the way

Pressing yourself to the wall you just continued to cry to yourself, curled in a ball, expecting the other person to just pass you by

Instead a soft white handkerchief gently pressed to your cheek, followed by a quiet “Are you okay?”

You were not okay.

Ojiro sat himself beside you as you wiped your face, continuing to sob

You didn’t offer an explanation, he didn’t ask for one

He sat in the hall quietly with you, his tail giving the occasional swish to brush your cheek of tears

The silence gave to time to catch your breath, and realize class probably started a long time ago

When you got up to be on your way, he joined you

He didn’t offer to walk you where you needed to go, he simply did

His quiet wave, his silent smile, his patient glances at you

It all made everything feel just a bit lighter

The next time you’d see Ojiro in the halls, he’d smile at you

And he’d be delighted if you could smile back

Kaminari

Crying from shock

It was just a little zap to the hip, a little bee sting

He’d been doing it to everyone in class, learned it from some stupid tiktok

When it was your turn to get stung, you let out the loudest yelp in the class

He laughed at first, proudly proclaiming how he’d gotten you

Until you whipped to him with fury in your eyes, along with tears

His panicked “Shit, wait, I’m sorry” fell on deaf ears as you quickly gave him a return jab in the hip

Without the actual shock part it probably wasn’t as painful

So you did it a few more times for good measure

Then he jabbed you again

And it was on

Jabs to the hip turned to jabs to the gut, armpit, neck, even right dead center in his chest

You were both in pain and sure to be covered in bruises when Iida finally separated you two

It was hard to see with the tears swelling in both your eyes

But when Denki made direct eye contact with you before giving a glance to Iida, you knew

You nodded, an evil smirk crossing your face

The two of you took your index and middle fingers, driving them quickly and roughly into the class rep’s hips simultaneously

His yelp had the entire class laughing

It then also had the entire class in study hall for the rest of break

Bakugo

He’s just kind of a dick

Standing outside of class 1-A you felt as though your heart was beating in your throat

When the door opened you jumped out of your skin as a green haired boy came out at full speed

He managed to stop on a dime before slamming into you though

You choked out the courage to ask him if Katsuki Bakugo was in class

The kid before you stared in shock before turning around and calling for a “Kacchan”, telling him someone was here to see him

You glanced in the door and watched as several people pried the man you wanted to see from his seat, shoving him forcefully to the door

They all then slammed the door behind him, keeping the green haired kid who seemed in a rush to leave trapped inside

He barked a what at you that made you reconsider all your choices

Still. You swallowed all your courage, and said what you came here to say.

You confessed your feelings to Bakugo, bravely.

He stared at you with a face of utter confusion, and it managed to catch you a bit off guard

He looked like he didn’t know how to respond

Which he, of course, didn’t.

So he responded the only way he really knows how

Anger.

“WHO THE HELL EVEN ARE YOU?!”

He called you some background extra. What gave you even the slightest though he’d want to be with some nobody he didn’t even know the name of

Within seconds of his screaming the 1-A doors slammed open yet again

The group who’d peeled Bakugo from his seat before jumped from the room and began wrestling him into submission, berating him for his treatment of you

But you were inclined to agree with him

You told them it was fine. He was right, you were just some nobody

You couldn’t stop your voice from shaking, tears streaming from your eyes as you gripped tightly at your shirt

Not knowing really what else to do, you turned and ran away

It was well over a few hours later, and you were still crying alone in the court yard

You flinched at the sound of footsteps approaching you. You closed your eyes and planned to make a run for it somewhere else to avoid bothering anyone

“Hey, dumbass,” a hand placed on your forehead, pulling you back to lean on the person behind you, “You could do a lot better than an ass like me.”

You glanced at Bakugo, who was looking far into the distance, his ears red

You cried and apologized. He didn’t say much else, but his hand remained on you, keeping you in place

You found yourself invited out more, running around with Bakugo and his friends, being rowdy and dumb as teens should be

Your crush on Katsuki Bakugo soon became a distant memory as he grew to be one of your closest friends

Honenuki

Yawning

You flopped dramatically onto the common room couch and let out the loudest, most drawn out sigh you could muster

This act of pure drama drew the attention of Juzo Honenuki, who simply chuckled at your antics

You stretched like a cat across the couch, reaching for him lazily with one hand, you swatted at the book he’d been comfortably reading

He gave another chuckle and inquired what you were after

You answered with an equally dramatic and drawn out yawn, bringing tears to your eyes as you again stretched to him

You then closed your eyes and snuggled into a couch pillow

Honenuki’s hand stretched across the couches and found itself on your head, giving gentle pets back and forth

Once he found himself a good stopping point, Honenuki put his bookmark in place and snapped the book closed

He gave a stretch and a yawn before encouraging you to your feet

You lazily tangled your arms around one of his and draped yourself over him

The two of you walked to your separate dorm rooms arm in arm, occasionally letting out more and more exasperated yawns and sleepy giggles

Monoma

Crying from pain

This was... probably your fault?

You remembered running into Awase from class 1-B while going a bit too fast though the halls

Next thing you knew you were in front of him, on your ass, staring up at him upside down

It took a minute for the pain to register, but as soon as it did tears stung your eyes

You couldn’t even really say anything as Awase’s eyes filled with panic when he’d realized what he’d done, quickly dropping your arm and stepping back, probably planning to make a run for it

The is until his blond classmate came up behind him, pressuring him to apologize in a loud, negging tone

When Awase again avoided your eyes, opting to shove his hands in his pockets as he glared at the wall, Monoma dropped to his knees and offered you assistance

The question of “Do you need to go to the nurse?” was accompanied with a handkerchief dabbed at your eyes

Monoma helped you to your feet, apologizing for his classmate, assuring you you were fine and didn’t need to report this to a teacher because you were clearly fine look at you you’re fine

I mean you weren’t bleeding so... Yeah? You were fine.

He sounded like he’d be the one in trouble if you told someone about Awase self defense flipping you over his shoulder

When he offered again to walk you to the nurse, you declined

He was right, you were fine, just a bit sore

You wiped the tears from your eyes and thanked him for his concern as you walked passed him

You also apologized to Awase for bumping into him, though he just huffed a response

You didn’t get very far when you heard quick steps following close behind

Monoma was just checking in to make sure you for sure weren’t going to tell anyone class 1-B’s Awase threw you like a rag doll

He also just figured while he was here he’d ask if there was anything he could do to make up for this incident

Like... buy you lunch sometime.... Or take you out to a nice cafe he knows after school... maybe...?

He just. Didn’t want you to think class B does hit and runs like this on all the pretty students

Mirio

Crying from laughing

Your sides hurt

You gripped onto yourself as you leaned onto Mirio, cackling harder than you had in a while

He was retelling some jokes he’d gone over with Sir Nighteye at his internship today, regaling you, Tamaki, and Nejire with perfect one-liners and horrid puns

You all were laughing far too hard for this late at night

Tears pricked your eyes as you slapped at Mirio’s leg, gasping for breath you begged for a time out

You have the most contagious laugh, Mirio was positive his jokes only ever landed because you laughed at them so easily

When you finally caught your breath you sat up, rubbing giggly tears from your eyes

You gave a glance around the room and found Tamaki doing the same, though his tears were from the yawn he’d just given

All three of you watched Tamaki adorably shifts as he rubbed the tired from his eyes, something he flushed over when he’d finally noticed the attention

Nejire declared that meant bedtime and hopped from her seated position, pulling Tamaki along with her

In a matter of moments she was dragging the tired boy out of the room to their own dorms

You and Mirio chuckled at her antics before you too got up to get going

Mirio offered to walk you to your dorm, which wasn’t far down the hall, but he made such a show of it how could you say no?

Of course he spent the whole walk telling even more terrible jokes that continued to crack you up

By the time you’d gotten to your dorm you were so giggly you couldn’t see straight

Mirio waved as he turned and walked the 5 feet back to his own room

He then turned around and waved again, claiming he already misses you

You giggled at him and returned to your own room

He loved your laugh.

#Emile's Arts #BNHA X Reader #MHA X Reader #All Might #Toshinori Yagi #Present Mic #Hizashi Yamada #Yuga Aoyama #Mashirao Ojiro #Denki Kaminari #Katsuki Bakugo #Juzo Honenuki #Neito Monoma #Taishiro Toyomitsu #Fatgum #Fat Gum #I was going to do Toga as well #But all it was going to be was crying over Magne cause that's my mood so #I'll write toga another time #BE THE CONTENT YOU WISH TO SEE IN THE TAG #I say that #and if I actually followed that I would write nothing but Monoma content all the time #and Inasa I should write more for Inasa #80% of these can also be seen as platonic because I didn't feel like doing much else #I apologize openly for Bakugo I was thinking of something highly specific #Also please know a good half of these with the students are General Studies Reader #or support course student reader #Because I didn't feel like thinking too hard about hero course reader #I am in a sit on the ground and cry for no reason mood tonight and so that is the content I create #Please enjoy. Send requests if you want to. I dunno man this is 99% for me

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theghostofblackbunnymask · 3 years

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Even A Devil Can Break- Chapter 1 (Y!Casino! Quackity x Female Reader

Chapter 1 (Currently Reading) Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 (In The Works)

Summary Of The Story- Y/N was friends with Quackity ever since they were kids, but once Las Nevadas gets formed Quackity finds out about Y/N's greatest strength, which makes him use her for his own benefit, not caring if he traumatized his main obsession.\

Summary Of Chapter- Just small parts of childhood and the rest is when they’re adults.

Word count- 1,495

Warnings- manipulation, Blackmail, Schlatt (His character can be triggerng)

Author’s Note- This is based on the characters they play, NOT the people themselves

Y/N walked out of her home with their torn up black and white bunny in their hands, their mother, Hope, telling them to be back before sundown. Y/N’s devil-like tail swung back and forth as she walked into the beautiful forest that was nearby. Her brother, Ben, older than her by 5 years, was in a nearby Village hanging out with his friends, and her mother and father were baking in the kitchen. Y/N sat at the beautiful stream that was far into the forest, watching fish and squid go by. Y/N heard twigs being broken, and it was coming from a big tree next to her, she looked up and out came a yellow winged boy. The boy looked up and Y/N’s unreadable face and her tail swung in curiosity, her horns glowing F/C, and her small demon wings going up a bit.

“Hello!” The boy said.

“I’m Quackity! But you can call me Big Q if you want, what’s your name?” The boy named Quackity asked, Y/N pausing before responding.

“Y/N, Y/N L/N,” Y/N said, before looking back at the stream.

There was an awkward silence after the two hybrids introduced themselves, and Quackity decided to break it.

“I have something cool to show you, wanna see?”

Y/N thought for a moment, but was cut off by 1 of her 2 demons, Emotional.

“DON’T GO, HE’S GONNA KILL US!” The pastel colored demon exclaimed, black tears falling from his eyes, only Y/N could see them, which bothered her.

“Ok,” Y/N said, following Quackity while ignoring Emotional’s cries.

They walked for about 30 minutes, getting deeper into the forest. Quackity moved a bush and showed Y/N a stash of weapons and potions.

“What are these for?” Y/N asked, confused on why he had so many.

“When you live alone in the wild, you can never be too safe, and also mobs.”

“Mobs?”

“Yeah! You do know what mobs are, right?”

Y/N stared at him before slowly shaking their head, mouthing no. Quackity grabbed one of the iron swords and gave it to Y/N, along with a healing potion.

“Take these home and meet me here again tonight,” Quackity said eagerly.

“Why?” Y/N asked, confused.

“You’re going to fight some mobs!”

“Ok…” Y/N said, looking down at the sword as it showed their face.

Y/N waved goodbye as the sun began to set, Quackity fastly waved goodbye until Y/N could no longer be seen.

“A friend…” --------------- Y/N was in her middle school math class, her teacher, Mr. Harris, talking about lord knows what, while Y/N was starting to fall asleep, one of their friends, F/N, kicked the back of her chair.

“OW, what the hell, F/N?!” Y/N whisper yelled, her tail going straight to their friend's neck. “Look,” F/N said, pointing to the doorway to see Quackity beckoning Y/N to follow him. Y/N sighed before lowering her tail and turned to look at F/N.

“Cover me,” Y/N said, before running out of the classroom.

“Y/N L/N GET BACK HERE!” Mr. Harris yelled.

“MR. HARRIS, Y/N has been really sick lately and they said she felt like she was about to throw up, so maybe that’s why she left.”

“Oh…” Mr. Harris said in embarrassment, before going back to teaching.

Y/N grabbed Quackity by his shoulders before looking at him annoyed.

“What do you want, Big Q…”

“We’re skipping.”

“And, look at this,” Quackity said, pulling out an invitation.

“It’s from Schlatt,” Quackity said.

“He wants us to come to his party.”

“Ok…” Y/N said, uninterested.

“Q, are you sure he invited me? You’re friends with him, not me.”

“He said to bring you, see,” Quackity said, handing her the letter.

“Imagine how popular and powerful we’ll be if people see we’re hanging out with him,” Quackity said while Y/N read the letter.

“It’s just petty middle and high school popularity Quackity, it won’t mean anything when we’re adults.”

Quackity looked at Y/N with a hint of anger in his eyes, before going back to normal.

“Y/N… It’s not just some ‘petty’ high school popularity, Schlatt’s family are pretty powerful, being friends with him can benefit you, Y/N,” Quackity said, putting his arm over Y/N’s shoulder, smirking sinisterly, but Y/N was too busy reading to see it.

Sighing, Y/N agreed to go, before following Quackity off of school grounds.

“We’re going to be in trouble,” Y/N said.

“And?” Quackity asked.

“My parents have been saying they keep getting calls from the school about us sneaking out.”

“Hm,” Quackity said, amused. ------------

Y/N walked down the halls of her high school while Schlatt and Quackity ranted about one of their classmates, Wilbur. Y/N couldn’t care less about what they were saying, she was too busy with their thoughts.

“You listening?” A gruff voice asked, in an annoyed tone.

“Schlatt…”

“Yeah, what do you want?” When the trio turned the corner, the halls were packed.

“Rush hour…” Quackity mumbled.

“Yep,” Schlatt said.

While the trio walked towards the lunch room, people turned their heads to look at the group. Y/N, Quackity and Schlatt were what people called a threat. And this made them the most popular kids in school, much to Y/N’s dismay and Quackity’s excitement. The trio noticed it got quiet all of a sudden and noticed people were staring at them.

“What?!” Schlatt said, making everyone run off.

“Freshmen…” Quackity said.

“Tell me about it,” Y/N agreed. ------------

Y/N was with her pet fox, Ham. When she allowed Ham to run off, she sat down at a tree and sighed, putting her mask down as she looked up at the pitch black sky. When Ham came back running, she became on guard.

“What’s wrong Ham?” She asked, picking him up as she stood up confused.

“Well, Well, Well, long time no see.”

Y/N lifted her mask up with a face filled with disgust and confusion. When she saw ram horns come into frame, her face turned into anger.

“What do you want, Schlatt? I told you I want nothing to fucking do with you, and you fucking scared Ham.”

“Ham? That’s a ridiculous name.”

“It isn’t that bad, Schlatt,” A familiar voice from the shadows said as the came into frame, Quackity.

“What do you two want, I know you didn’t go looking for me for any other reason than you needing something.”

“As you may not know, knowing how much you hate politics, I’m running for president of L’manburg-”

“Like you’re going to win.”

“Oh I will… But anyways, I have a proposition for you.”

“Which is?”

“I want you to be my assistant.”

Ham let out a laugh sounding scream while Y/N let out a wheeze.

“Like I would, I knew you were dumb but I didn’t think you were THIS dumb.”

“Oh, when did I say I was asking?”

“Huh?” Y/N asked, turning around.

“Quackity,” Schlatt said, sticking his hand out.

“Should we really do this? I mean-”

“Shut up. Give me the goddamn thing.”

Quackity hesitantly handed him a file, which Schlatt snatched from his hands.

“There is something I found quite interesting about you Y/N.”

“Like what?”

“Your brother.”

Y/N froze, her tail going straight up.

“Got her…”

“From the looks of it, you killed your brother during the war for L’manburg’s independence, completely by will.”

“How did yo-”

“It would be quite a shame if this were to, I don’t know, be told to the public.”

Y/N gripped Ham as she looked down at the ground in shame. Schlatt grabbed Y/N’s face so she could look at him.

“So, if you want your secret between the three of us, you’ll work for me.”

“Fine,” Y/N said, yanking her head the other way before walking off, flipping the ram and duck hybrid off.

“Did we really have to do that?” Quackity asked as the two walked back.

“It’s worked in the past, why wouldn’t it work again?”

“You’re right.”

#casino quackity x reader #yandere dream smp #c!quackity #Quackity #dream smp x reader #dream smp

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sevlgi · 3 years

Text

how it feels

requested: no

group: stray kids

pairing: hyunjin x gn!reader

genre: fluff, slight angst

contents: high school!au but there’s not much school involved, best friend!hyunjin, mutual pining, hyunjin’s a hopeless romantic

warnings: none

synopsis: comforting your best friend after a breakup usually doesn’t involve making him fall in love with you, but both of you just want to know what it feels like.

a/n: yes hello please enjoy this fic that i’m randomly dropping in the middle of my hiatus 🙃 i’ll hopefully be able to write a gg fic of some kind for y’all soon! the ending of this is so fucking lazy, sorry

word count: 5.3k

“Why, Y/N? Can’t she just tell me why?”

“I know,” you comfort, rubbing your best friend’s back as he sniffles with his knees up to his chest. It’s hard to see him in the darkness that’s brought by the blanket resting over the both of you like a tent, but in the glow of Hyunjin’s phone, you can see the tear tracks on his face. “I’m sorry, Jinnie.”

He pouts and scrubs yet another tear off his cheek, lamenting, “Why can’t I never fall in love with someone who loves me back? We’re only in high school, it shouldn’t be this complicated.”

Dabbing at his face with a tissue, you sigh, “I guess you have bad luck. Or bad judgement, could be both. There are plenty of people who are dying to love and appreciate you, you know, you’re the one who never spares them a glance.”

Hyunjin shakes his head. “No, those people only think I’m the long-haired guy from the dance team. They would treat me the same,” he frowns tearily. “I just want someone who likes me first.”

It always goes this way for him, you know-- you’ve seen it too many times, the stages of your best friend falling in love with someone who leads him on, enjoys his company for a while before dumping him and his expectations in the dirt. Maybe it’s the undeniable pressure to be the perfect partner that Hyunjin wants more than anything, or maybe he just always ends up liking assholes. But either way, it’s carnage for Hyunjin’s heart, and he never gets used to it no matter how many times it happens.

He’s too sensitive and warm-hearted for his own good, so all he can do after the latest breakup is cry into his favorite pillow on a Tuesday night. If you weren’t so willing to immediately come to comfort him, Hyunjin would’ve been doing it alone, too, and he would’ve cried for far longer than he has.

“Who do I go to prom with now?” he questions sadly, breaking you from your recollections about the many times you’ve done this before.

Unfortunately, all his question does is make you laugh. “It’s a serious question!” Hyunjin protests, scowling at you.

“Okay, I’m sorry,” you say, still chuckling. “I mean, would it be so bad to go to prom with a friend? I’m sure Yeji- wait never mind, not Yeji… I’m sure someone would go with you for appearances’s sake. Or if you don’t mind, just ask Lix, he’s too nice to say no even if he wanted.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better,” he says, flopping back onto his bed. The clock by his bedside reads 2:33 am, and you can already feel your physics final cursing you. “I want to go with someone I feel something for, you know? It’s our prom, Y/N, I want to feel the prom-ness of promposals and picking out outfits and all that with someone I love.”

You shake your head and push his knee lightly. “Unfortunately, most people our age haven’t even been in love yet, so I doubt many people can help you feel it. But you know what I’m feeling right now?”

“Please don’t say pancakes,” Hyunjin groans, “I’m not waking my parents up to teach us how to use the stove again.”

Throwing a pillow at him, you roll your eyes, “I feel tired, dumbass. And we have finals tomorrow, so how about we invite our friends out to get boba afterwards so we can find you a prom date? You can complain all you like about how the three weeks before prom happens are too short to fall in love, yadda yadda.”

“Fine. But don’t mock me, my many feelings are perfectly valid,” your best friend warns you, and rolls over to turn the light off.

Seungmin frowns when Hyunjin finally shows up at the entrance of the school’s closest boba shop, looking slightly disheveled from dance practice. “Finally. You’re annoying, and late.”

“Jeongin’s later,” Hyunjin objects, plopping down in the spot next to you and accepting the drink you hold out to him. The amount of mango yogurt with boba he drinks is definitely unhealthy (and expensive), but he’ll only groan more about his breakup if you didn’t get it for him. “Why do you literally never complain about him?”

“Jeongin’s cute, and you aren’t.”

The long-haired boy scoffs and sips at his drink sulkily as Felix returns with his own order. “Oh, hey, Hyunjin. I didn’t see you arrive,” Felix smiles sunnily. “Jisung’s not coming today, by the way. Something about having to stay for detention.”

You raise your eyebrows at that new piece of information. “Really? For what?”

“Playing a song entitled ‘Fuck You Bitch’ in Bio, I believe.”

Seungmin snorts in laughter, sighing fondly, “Sounds like him. Anyway, I heard we’re here to solve the problem of Hwang Hyunjin’s prom date. Or… lack thereof?”

“You’re so mean,” your best friend groans.

Ignoring him, you clasp your hands on the table and lean in conspiratorially. “I doubt any of you haven’t heard at this point, but he got dumped, for lack of a better word, and now, like the rest of us, Hyunjin has no prom date. But unlike us, he actually still wants one.”

“I’ll go with you,” Felix offers, still chewing on the straw in his mouth.

You elbow Hyunjin, who pushes you back before responding. “Thank you, Lixie, but like I explained to Y/N, I want to go with someone I’m in love with. I want to know how it feels, you know?”

“I don’t know,” Seungmin deadpans. At Hyunjin’s crestfallen expression, though, he says, “I mean, we can definitely try, but I feel like the rest of the people left in this school are either too young or not your type. And is 3 weeks really enough for you to be ‘in love again’?”

“Knowing me, maybe…? But I think I’d need to know the person already,” your best friend pouts.

Jeongin arrives then, conveniently missing most of the conversation before he squishes in on the end of the booth. “Well, you better not try to fall in love with me,” the youngest grins.

“I’d never pick you,” Hyunjin jabs back. “But out of the people I do know…”

“I volunteer,” you joke.

Your friends snicker, thankfully, but the boy sitting right next to you turns with a thoughtful expression on his face. “Actually…”

“I don’t like that expression,” Jeongin narrows his eyes.

“I think I could fall in love with Y/N in 3 weeks,” Hyunjin says nonchalantly, as if it’s nothing. He completely ignores all the shocked expressions around him.

In truth, as easy as Hyunjin falls in love, he’s also incredibly easy to fall for. You’d never admit it to him, but you have loved him before, with the kind of burning passion that he somehow has with every one of his relationships.

You’re over it, and you have been for a long time, but him saying that maybe he could love you so very easily makes it all come back up to the surface. “For real?” Felix questions.

“I mean, I don’t like you yet--” your heart falls (stupidly)-- “but I think I could.”

“So… what do you want me to do?” you ask.

Hyunjin smiles, so pure and beautiful that you wonder how his girlfriend just left him, and says, “I want you to help me figure out how it feels to really be in love.” He scrambles to interrupt Seungmin, whose mouth is opening. “It’s just three weeks before prom. We’ll just feel happy together, none of the other shit--”

“You are so cheesy,” Jeongin interjects. “And I think you’ve watched too many dramas. Did you pause to think how Y/N feels about your plan?”

You appreciate your younger friend’s considerateness, but the guilty expression on Hyunjin’s face prompts you to say, “I mean, I don’t think I could like you like that, so… sure. I’ll help you.”

“Really?” All three of your friends ask as they turn to you.

“Yeah,” you shrug. “What, you fall in love with me in three weeks for prom, I don’t reciprocate, but we move on as friends? I think it’ll be fine.”

“It never works like that though,” Seungmin doubts. He isn’t as cynical as he seems, but in the presence of overly-optimistic Felix and Hyunjin, he and Jeongin always end up as the voice of reason. Usually, you’re with them, but this time, you’re the one enabling the idiocy of the new plan.

Hyunjin grins, “Then we’ll make it work like that.”

With the amount of time that passes before Hyunjin mentions his plot again, you almost forget about it. The first week is normal in a way that makes you nervous-- you hang out like normal, doing homework in the library with your friends as Minho harrasses Chan, eating lunch wherever you can find a spot. There isn’t really time to be alone, just the two of you, and you aren’t sure how Hyunjin is supposed to ‘fall in love’ with you if it’s just normal.

Of course, it doesn’t last long.

It takes a while for it to set in that when Hyunjin asks you to go watch a drive-through movie with him, it isn’t just so he can show off his brand-new car. It’s a date, and it’s stated painfully clearly in his text from the night before.

However, you don’t realize it until you’re literally getting into his car in front of your house.

“Wait. This is a date, isn’t it?”

Hyunjin chuckles nervously, looking over at you in the passenger seat, and you notice for the first time that he’s put on a bit of makeup, and his car doesn’t smell like Jisung’s hot cheetos for once. “I mean, yeah. I meant it when I said I wanted you to help, and I thought you did too? It doesn’t have to be one if you’re backing out, though, it’s totally fine.”

“I’m not backing out,” you shake your head. You really aren’t-- so far, nothing has happened that would make you want to back out yet, and no freshman-year feelings for your best friend have resurfaced just yet. “I just forgot. You know me.”

“Yeah, I know your goldfish brain,” Hyunjin teases, setting the car in motion. There’s lo-fi playing, and he’s a good driver, so you relax. “You forget everything.”

“I do not! You’re the one who has to be reminded of everyone’s birthday but mine,” you protest. If he wasn’t driving, you would shove him, and you remind him of that, to his dismay.

Hyunjin hums as soon as the two of you fall into comfortable silence, your foot tapping lightly to the music, and with the sun setting on the distant horizon, it’s so familiar. You try to interrupt the peace anyway. “So, what movie are we seeing?”

“10 Reasons I Hate You,” he answers. “It’s a classic, and you haven’t seen it.”

“And you love romcoms,” you finish.

He doesn’t protest, only sending you a small smile. You’re pulling into the theater already anyway, in one of the better rows to watch the movie as Hyunjin turns his radio on and starts fiddling with it. “There’s snacks in the backseat,” he offers, to no surprise.

They’re some of your favorites, though there are also the chips that he can’t live without. There’s a blanket, which drapes awkwardly over the cupholder between the two of you, and a bottle of juice that you place in his lap immediately. “You like watermelon juice more than I do.”

“Thanks,” he says quietly, almost surprised.

You scowl and poke him, allowed to now that you’re safely parked and waiting for the movie to begin. “Don’t act all shocked, we’ve been friends since orientation and I’ve spent more than half my paychecks getting this damn juice for you.”

“Mean,” Hyunjin protests, but he hands you your favorite soda from under his seat anyway. “And shut up, it’s starting.”

He seems to know the intro to the movie, smiling when the first line of dialogue sounds, all crackly over the shitty radio, and you eventually stop staring at him to watch the movie instead. Of course, you can’t keep yourself from asking, “Why do you like romcoms so much, anyway? You’ve never explained to me, for all the ones I’ve watched with you.”

“I like happy endings, I think,” the long-haired boy responds after a short pause to think. “Not to be dramatic, but I haven’t had one yet, so maybe watching other people being happy makes me happier too.”

You nod, taking it as a perfectly acceptable answer. Knowing how sentimental your best friend is, it’s nowhere near a stretch, either, being something that just fits with his personality.

He talks occasionally to tell you a little tidbit that he knows: by the end, you’ve learned about how it’s a modern adaptation of a rather misogynistic Shakespeare play, how the entire movie was shot without sets, and how the scene of Kat reading the poem was the first take. It’s interesting, of course, but you’re more captured by the way Hyunjin’s smile glints in the weak light filtered through the car windows.

The sky is dark when the credits roll and Hyunjin reaches for the steering wheel, almost too dark for you to see anything outside when you’re driving back to your house.

“So? How was it?”

“How was what?” you ask, moving your hands around vaguely. “The snacks? The movie? The date?”

“All of the above?” Hyunjin says hesitantly.

You answer immediately, “It was perfect. You knew that, though.”

“I didn’t really. I mean, I’ve never taken you on a date,” he muses. “And plenty of the people I’ve dated before weren’t even willing to watch a rom-com with me.”

“Then that’s their problem,” you say. “Anyone who isn’t willing to watch a rom-com with you is just an asshole, and I stand by that.”

Hyunjin smiles sweetly. You’re parked by the curb in front of your house at this point, so it’s slightly more easy to see the silhouette of your friend’s face. “That’s nice of you. I dunno though, I wouldn’t want to label everyone who doesn’t like romcoms as an asshole.”

“That’s not what I mean.” You shift a little bit to face him, pausing before you explain, “I think that if someone is so unwilling to try something that means so much to the person they like, then they don’t really like them.”

“I guess. You know, there’s another reason why I like romcoms so much.”

You don’t speak, waiting for Hyunjin to explain. And he does. “I think romcoms give me hope,” he nods. “Like… they make me think that anything’s possible, not just happy endings. Maybe the person who I don’t even have a chance with secretly likes me back, you know?”

“I can’t really imagine someone who wouldn’t like you if you liked them, but I think I get it,” you smile.

“At least you try. See you at school next week?”

“Come on, we both know that Binnie’s dragging all of us out to beat Chan’s ass at bowling,” you sigh, taking it as a sign to open your car door.

Before you make it completely outside, though, Hyunjin’s hand rests on your wrist. “Y/N, thanks for tonight.”

“Anytime,” you respond breathlessly, closing the door a little louder than you probably should.

You do mean it.

“Remind me again why we have to go prom outfit shopping together?”

Hyunjin pouts, peering in the window of yet another shop. His arm rests gently on your shoulder despite the way you jokingly pushed it off at the beginning of the day, but you really don’t mind. “Isn’t it cute to have matching prom outfits? We should be color-coordinated in some way.”

“I mean, sure… but isn’t online shopping just easier?” you ask, raising your eyebrow. “It’s the 21st century, Jin.”

“You’re so unromantic,” he groans, and finally pushes the door open to a thrift store to lead you inside.

You wrinkle your nose at the heavy smell of perfume that hits you as soon as you step inside. “And you watch too many movies. You’ve known me for almost four years, you aren’t going to have some magical moment where you realize you like me just because I put on a sparkly outfit of some kind.”

“Who knows? Maybe you’ll suddenly think that you love me when you see me in a tux,” Hyunjin grins.

You don’t respond to that, and he doesn’t push it, taking it as just another joke of his. Of course he doesn’t know about freshman year, and he definitely doesn’t know about how you still aren’t sure if that crush ever subsided. He shouldn’t know.

He’s too picky to pick something at the first store, you know, so you just follow him around as he flicks through things that are either too fitted or too loose, too patterned or too plain.

It takes three stores for him to finally something that he likes, and he appears from the dressing room with a gorgeous grin on his face. “What do you think?”

“It’s… good. I mean, you look good,” you clarify. Of course Hyunjin looks perfect in anything, but the dark navy jacket over the patterned button-down he was already wearing just seem like they were a combo meant for him.

He isn’t satisfied with your response, towering over you as you slump lower in the chair. “Just good?”

“Hot. Stunning, beautiful, sexy-- is that what you want to hear?” you respond sarcastically.

“That’s exactly it!”

Rolling your eyes, you pick up your things from the chair and say, “Then we’re done? Are you picking this one?”

“Yeah, but what about you?” Hyunjin asks. “Do you already have something, or are we going to get something? I’m still waiting for my kdrama moment, you know.”

You definitely don’t have something at home, but you don’t think you could bear being on the receiving end of the drama moment that your best friend so desperately wants. Something about having him suggest something for you to wear, reacting as dramatically as you know he will, just won’t allow your old feelings for him to sit still.

“I’m good. Let’s check out, and get some ice cream?” you offer to placate him.

Hyunjin grins and offers his arm to you again, practically skipping to the checkout. “Sounds perfect to me.”

“Y/N, what the hell do I wear on a date?”

“How should I know?” You sound listless, flicking through one of the mangas that one of Changbin’s friends left as his house.

“You literally went on a date with your freshman year crush last week and then picked a prom outfit with him,” your friend scowls, tossing a shirt at your face. It’s clean, thankfully, but you still chuck it back at him.

“In my defense, I forgot that it was a date,” you respond, “and shut up about the ‘freshman year crush’ thing. I never would’ve told you if I knew you would use it against me like this.”

Changbin throws yet another piece of clothing in your direction, narrowly missing your face, and you raise a pillow to threaten him with. “You got me into this mess with Felix in the first place, so I think it’s even.”

“It’s not a mess if it’s what you asked me to do,” you complain, “and besides, you wouldn’t stop talking about this date for the past week despite it literally just being something we do together all the time.”

“I like Felix, I don’t like you.”

“Then I’m leaving you to agonize over your collection of colorful track pants on your own,” you warn, and he subsequently shuts up. “There we go. Don’t wear one of those, by the way, even though Felix wouldn’t say a single thing about it.”

“How was the date, by the way? And the three-year-old feelings?” Changbin asks as he continues to dig in his closet.

You hesitate. “It was… nice? Hyunjin knows way too much about Julia Stiles, but he was super enthusiastic and the movie was pretty good. He got the good snacks, too.”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” he sighs.

“Then what did you mean, Mr. ‘I Love Lee Felix With My Whole Tiny Brain’?” you challenge.

Changbin doesn’t take the bait, unfortunately. “Jeongin told me about the whole plot you and Hyunjin have going on. Are you really dumb enough to think that you can get him to love you without falling for him again, and then leave him after it?”

There’s no way to respond to his question without making a complete fool out of yourself, and so, you simply don’t. Apparently in one of his more coherent moods, Changbin continues on, “I’d say that you watched too many movies, but I’ve seen you avoid Hyunjin’s movie nights. What the hell is going on with you?”

“I mean, have you seen the way he looks when he wants something?” you answer unintentionally. “Obviously you weren’t with us at the at the boba shop, but I’m serious. I couldn’t say no to him, especially when he’s heartbroken.”

“What does he look like?” Changbin asks.

You sigh, “He… his eyes get kind of shiny, almost like he’se about to cry but not really like that. And I don’t really know, he just looks like he’d be sad if you said no but wouldn’t talk about it, and that’s the part that makes you want to say ‘yes’.”

“It sounds to me like your three-year-long crush is still here, then,” your friend replies. “Because I have never felt that way about Hyunjin before, but I know what expression you’re talking about.”

Staring at him like he’s grown two heads, you realize that he’s wearing a jean jacket that shouldn’t have taken so much time to pick out. “That’s a stupid conclusion.”

Changbin shrugs and picks his phone up on his way out. “You can think about it as stupid if you want, but I’m usually not wrong about this. I’m going now, do you want a ride or something? You can stay here as long as you want, though.”

“I’ll walk home, it’s still noon,” you answer. You need to think, anyway.

He walks to the kitchen for a drink of water, he claims, but he picks up his phone on the way there, presumably to talk to Felix like the lovey-dovey fool he is. You wrinkle your noise and wander in the hallway, fully intending to bully Changbin about his crush as long as possible.

But his low voice, echoing from the kitchen, definitely doesn’t sound like flirting. When Changbin strides out, on a mission, it’s obvious that something is wrong. “We have to go,” he says. “Jeongin and Hyunjin got in an accident.”

Fear bubbles in your throat, and you yank the front door open harder than you could’ve thought possible. “What? How? When? Is it just the two of them? Are they okay?”

“Minho says that he doesn’t know yet, he’s driving there too. They aren’t calling the police, they’re apparently fine enough to get us,” Changbin says as he backs out of the driveway. “But we better get there as soon as we can.”

“Then drive,” you exhale sharply, slamming your seatbelt on as if it’ll stop your heart from beating out of your chest.

You leap out of the passenger’s side before the car even stops moving, finding Minho and Chan’s cars both parked at the side of the road behind the silver one that you remember to be Jeongin’s parents’. There’s a huddle of people there, Seungmin and Jisung parting so that you can make your way to the center.

To your relief, both your friends are okay; Hyunjin’s sitting on the trunk of the car, massaging his legs, and Jeongin’s definitely wincing a bit too much when he moves his neck. The car is dented, but not to the point of no repair.

Still, anger clouds your vision.

“What the hell’s wrong with the both of you?” you almost shout. “And what the fuck happened?”

Hyunjin starts, “Y/N, calm down. I was trying to teach Jeongin to drive, and we went a little off course--”

“Teaching him to drive, on the damn highway?” you question furiously. “You barely got your license three months ago, I get that you’re a good driver, but you aren’t a good enough driver for this! Whose idea was this?”

Jeongin timidly raises a hand, but Felix stops you from saying anything more. “Let’s all calm down, okay? Y/N, our friends are fine,” he says, low voice barely audible over the wind whipping around. “Everyone’s alive, which is the most important part here, and we can fix the car, which isn’t all that important. Let’s just focus on getting someone here to help, okay?”

“I’ve called my uncle to come and tow the car, we’re just going to get Hyunjin and Jeongin to the hospital, okay?” Seungmin reassures you. “Changbin’s car is too small, and you’re the better driver, so you and Hyunjin take it. Jeongin will come in Minho’s car with me, and we’ll meet you there.”

You nod stiffly and get into the driver’s seat first, pretending like you don’t notice how Chan pulls Hyunjin back to talk with him.

You shouldn’t have gotten angry; it doesn’t make sense to be angry at all. You should’ve been scared, worried, anything but angry, and so, you can only try to calm your breathing by the time Hyunjin sits next to you and Chan’s car sets off.

“Why are you so mad?” he asks quietly.

It’s the wrong thing to say; you turn your head to him, incredulous. “Why am I mad? You could have died, both of you could have died!”

“And? How many things have we all done together that could’ve ended with us in a ditch?” Hyunjin raises an eyebrow. “Hell, you were the one who decided that it would be fun to jump from the roof into Seungmin’s pool last summer, what’s changed? I get it, it was stupid, but you’ve never been so mad about something like this before.”

You exhale, tapping your fingers on Changbin’s steering wheel as you follow your friends’ cars. “To be honest, I don’t know.”

“Okay.”

It’s completely silent after that, at least until you reach the emergency room.

Jeongin and Hyunjin are fine, thankfully; the youngest has twisted a muscle in his neck, but it’s nothing that can’t heal on its own, and Hyunjin’s knees are merely bruised. Jisung’s the one who tells you, the older two of your friend group apparently dealing with the parents of the injured.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” he asks, patting your arm. “You reacted a little… adversely earlier. Did you and Hyunjin have a fight?”

“Why is it always about me and Hyunjin?” you ask with narrowed eyes. “Can’t I be mad because they almost got themselves killed?”

Jisung raises an eyebrow. “You never get mad when we almost get ourselves killed, that’s Chan’s job. And you were basically yelling straight at Hyunjin, I’ve never seen the guy so scared.”

You exhale and sit back in the creaky hospital chair. You wish you could tell Jisung if there was something wrong, but you honestly don’t know what it is. “I don’t know. Do you think there’s something wrong with me?”

“You tell me, dude,” Jisung chuckles. “I think you should think about it. I mean, there’s barely two weeks until prom now, you barely have time to back out anymore.”

“Why would I back out?” you stare at him.

He pushes you to stand, and only says, “Think about it yourself. Okay?”

You don’t tap out, but only because you don’t get Hyunjin alone enough to do so.

After your little yelling fest at him, he obviously doesn’t want to just talk to you, despite how you publicly apologize to both him and Jeongin. You don’t sit together during movie night, you sit at opposite corners of your study table in the library.

Until Felix’s parents invite all of you over to take prom pictures, all you get is a stilted silence.

“You look nice,” he mumbles when the two of you get ushered together in a pair. Except for Felix and Changbin, all the others are by themselves, and you wonder why Hyunjin was so hellbent to get himself a prom date when almost everyone else didn’t bother.

He himself looks absolutely perfect, his hair styled to perfection and a slight pink glittering on his lips. The suit that you picked out together is paired with a patterned shirt that you’ve never seen before, and it perfectly matches your own hastily-purchased outfit. Hyunjin offers a flower to you, color-coordinated, and you hold it in one hand with the other on his arm. “Thanks. You too.”

“Okay, smile, everyone!” Felix’s mom grins behind the camera. “Couples, stand closer together a little bit!”

With a (rather convenient) nudge from Minho, Hyunjin’s hand slips onto your waist, and heat rises to the tops of your ears. Felix’s mother is pleased, though, and the photos carry on with the occasional hoots of laughter when Jisung smacks a kiss onto Seungmin’s cheek and gets clocked as a result.

Conversation is never stilted when you’re with your friends, so despite the silence between Hyunjin and you, there’s no awkwardness during the ride there. Silence only falls when it’s just the two of you standing together in the corner of the venue, all the others off to dance or raid the buffet table.

You decide to speak first. “Are you pissed at me for yelling at you? Because I said I was sorry, and I am.”

“I’m not pissed at you,” Hyunjin shakes his head.

“Well, you’re sure acting like it,” you snap. With a sigh, you end up apologizing again, “Sorry. I just… I know that the plot was mostly a joke, just to take your mind off of the heartbreak and stuff. I kind of messed it up.”

“You messed it up?” He stares at you.

“Well, yeah… I yelled at you, didn’t I?”

Hyunjin sighs, almost like he expected a different answer. “No, that didn’t mess anything up. I mean, I got what I wanted, anyway.”

“And what was that?”

“I fell in love with you.”

It’s your turn to watch him, completely shellshocked. The sparkling, multicolored lights of the venue bounce off him like an otherworldly glow, and his eyes sparkle even though he’s avoiding your gaze. Maybe all the people falling at his feet, you included, are onto something. “I mean, it’s not exactly what I wanted,” he blabbers. “I wanted to be in love without it hurting, and obviously that failed, but… I should’ve known that it wouldn’t even take three weeks for me to love you.”

“Hyunjin.”

Your best friend still doesn’t look up, so you just ask softly, “Why does it hurt?”

“You don’t like me back, of course it hurts,” Hyunjin frowns.

“Who said I didn’t like you back?”

He’s quiet, eyes flicking up to you like he thinks it’s Jisung pranking him or something. “Do you mean it?”

“We’re stupid, Hyunjin,” you laugh. “We’re so, so stupid. I had a crush on you since we met, for two whole-ass years.”

“Well, I liked you for almost four, so I think I beat you there,” he says. But there’s a relieved smile on his face, his eyes curving prettily as he reaches for your hand. “Then… do you want to dance?”

“No romcom shenanigans,” you warn, but you allow yourself to be tugged out to the dance floor next to your friends with a smile.

Hyunjin’s grin as you twirl him around under the burning neon lights suddenly makes it seem like everything will just... magically be okay. If you had just been a little more courageous (or a little less stupid), maybe you could’ve seen it earlier.

But good things come with time and patience. And with all the patience you’ve had, waiting for this to happen, the way you finally feel with him makes it all worth it.

270 notes · View notes

hee4won · 4 years

Text

hate(d) | nishimura riki x reader

requested by @onionhaseyeo i’m so sorry if this isn’t what you wanted but for some reason i got super excited

a/n: this is my first time writing a fic(?) i guess it could be considered.. i just had an idea i liked for the request and it felt more like a fic than a headcanon :] i hope it’s not too bad !

word count: 2.1k

warnings: probably some grammatical errors, other than that none. (lowercase intended)

tags: e2l, slight angst, slight fluff

you hate nishimura riki. when you tell others how you feel about him they always have the same unoriginal response, “hate is such a strong word.” and that, is exactly why you chose it.

now, in order to really understand why your hatred runs so deep, let’s get into the Three W’s! WHY do you hate him so much? he stole your best friend, she ended up developing feelings for him and ghosting you, she moved away, he never apologized for it. WHEN did you realize nishimura riki was the worst thing to ever happen to you? 7th grade, it’s always 7th grade. WHERE did the beginning of the end commence? the cafeteria, your friend decided to spill her guts out in front of the whole lunch table, only to be humiliated not long after.

there you sat, glaring at the back of riki’s head. anyone from a mile away could sense your distaste when it came to him. truth be told, no one could understand why, and you never cared to explain. you figured the situation between the two of you or - just you and an unknowing boy - was personal and should be kept private. you were really good at keeping it a secret too, so good that riki himself couldn’t pinpoint the issue you had with him.

for the most part you did your best to avoid him, whether it be physically or when he was brought up in conversation between classmates. ni-ki, as people on good terms with him would address him, was a really friendly student. he didn’t pick fights, kept his teasing to a minimum, and somehow got good grades despite sleeping in and skipping classes.

going to school knowing his sweet, smiling face would be one of the first things you would see in the morning was what kept you in bed during first period. just the idea of him was revolting, and you simply weren’t strong enough to hold your ground right after waking up.

that was until your first period teacher emailed you letting you know a group project was coming up and it counted as 60% of your overall grade. all you could do was send a friendly reply, close the laptop, and scream into your pillow. you were going to be seeing nishimura riki for the first time in almost a month. which you considered to be the best month of your life.

you were alert all morning, barely getting any sleep the night before from how nervous you were. it actually wasn’t as bad as you thought. you were late, which meant everyone already picked who they were going to group with. and, to your luck, riki was nowhere to be foun-

*bump*

“oh my gosh, i am so sorry. . . y/n?” sigh, of course it had to be him. you flashed a limp smile and hurried over to an empty seat. you noticed his hand go forward then drop down to his side, almost like he was trying to bring you back. “oh! ni-ki,” even the teacher knows his nickname? how wonderful. “what perfect timing, you and y/n will be partners for the project, i’ll send the rubric out this afternoon. class dismissed!”

your legs were like jelly, since when did you become this way? sure, you hate him but. . . not being able to move? it was different, it was new. riki noticed the look of confusion on your face and cautiously made his way over to you once all the other students cleared the classroom. “hey, y/n. i haven’t seen you in a while, have you been doing alright?” why on earth was he concerned about you? so shameless.

“yeah, i’m fine, thanks,” you glared at him while standing up and purposefully bumping into his shoulder. bad move. your knees gave out right then, luckily, riki held onto you before you could hit the cold floor. you sighed in defeat, today just wasn’t your day, and mister nishimura just wasn’t the person you wanted to be this close to.

“do you need something? or is there another reason you won’t let go of my arm,” every word had a hint of poison mixed in it. riki muttered a small apology and quickly released you. “i just wanted to let you know that we can work on the project at my place, only if you want,” he gave a boxy closed-mouth smile, almost as if he was trying to act cute. disgusting.

“whatever, give me your address and i’ll come by at 4.” and with that, you two went your separate ways.

after school

as you made your way to riki’s house, you were running over every possible scenario that could occur. you wanted to avoid arguing, only because you took your grades very seriously. but does he? you couldn’t help but feel nervous and slightly jittery as you got closer to his front steps. oh! the door is open. but. . . no riki?

you called out for him a couple times until hearing laughter and the crunching of chips coming down from the second floor. of course, he’s playing the game. trudging up the stairs you wiped off your sweaty palms, mentally preparing yourself before inviting yourself into his room.

“sunghoon, shut up! it’s not even like that, you’re so weird,” he was so loud. “jake, you too! as if you haven’t been trying to swoon that girl in your third period for the past two months now. haha!” well, boys will be boys.

you open the door and riki notices immediately. he throws his headset and controller down to the floor. “y/n, you scared me,” he was almost out of breath. “oh my bad, i called out for you but you didn’t hear me so. . .” you fiddled with your fingers awkwardly. riki muttered a quick, “it’s okay” and gestured for you to take a seat on his bed.

picking up his headset, he told the cheeky upper-class boys that he would talk to them later. grabbing his supplies and computer, he took a seat next to you. you shifted away from him a little, not comfortable with the closeness between the two of you. he didn’t seem to notice, that or he just didn’t care.

“okay, so, have you already looked over the rubric?” crickets. “helloo, earth to y/n! have you checked the rubric yet?” “OH! yes, i have, ha,” you gave a quick reply, trying to pretend the awkward moment of you staring at him never happened.

ha? are you insane? you were nervous yes, and you thought it was because of the bad terms you two were on but. . . this nervousness felt a bit different.

“i also wrote up a quick outline during lunch,” you took the paper out of your bag and moved to hand it to him. “ooh nice, you’re such a scholar,” you gave him a lighthearted “shut up” before looking back at your laptop.

did he feel that? your fingers touched. they did touch, right? you can’t be imagining all of this. Y/N. WHAT ARE YOU DOING? YOU HATE HIM, REMEMBER?

“uh, y/n? why do you look like you’ve been holding in a wet fart for the past three minutes?” he was being playful while also holding genuine concern because of your recent actions. your jaw drops, you were always bad at keeping a poker face. but you knew you had to go back to your cold state, there was no way you were going to finish the project by gawking at him. he has such pretty lips by the way, how did you not notice sooner?

it had been a few hours since you guys started working on the project. you checked the time, 8:00 pm. “hey, riki,” you began with a small yawn. “y/n, you know you can call me ni-ki, right? that’s what all my friends call me,” his eyes suddenly widened noticing your discomfort. “wait, i mean. . . only if you want to!”

you cleared your throat and just asked for the bathroom. once inside and closing the door behind you, you felt the need to cry. sob, even. what is going on? why do you feel so bad for being around him? are you a traitor? is it wrong to be laughing and giggling like the two of you are besties?

you turned the water on, hoping it would drown out the sound of your muffled cries. unfortunately, you have some awfully loud sniffles. riki came running to where you were and knocked on the door. he spoke softly, “y/n? are you okay? can i come in?” what was the point in saying no? it is his house, and maybe if you told him. . . you’d feel better.

as you opened the door and looked up at him, the look of worry on his face made your heart ache. gosh, why do you care about him so much? he looked at your tear stained face and slowly reached out his hand, giving you a look that pleaded for your approval. you pass a small nod, and almost sank into the warmth of his hand on your cheek. he pulled you in for a hug as you cried for a little while longer. “do you wanna talk about it?”

here it was, here was the chance to let him know what you’ve been wanting to since 7th grade. you took a moment to steady your breathing and gather courage to look him in the eyes. you told him everything, from the beginning of 7th grade, to the day it all happened, all the way to where the two of you stood now.

he just sat there, probably trying to process everything you had randomly dumped on him. you were about to apologize and pack your things, but for some odd reason, he smiled? “ni-ki? what’s so funny? i was being serious,” his smile only grew bigger, “no i know, i just find it so funny how you had so much agaisnt me meanwhile i just wanted you to like me.”

he?? wanted you to like him??? hmmm. “what do you mean. . . wanted me to like you?” you were really curious, “i’ve had a crush on you since 7th grade, that’s why i rejected your friend later on. i never knew it would hurt you in the process, and for that i am sorry. very sorry.” you let out a small chuckle, “it’s not your fault, really. now that i’m older i think i was only mad that you two didn’t end up together because i liked you too. i just couldn’t live with myself for liking the same boy my best friend liked. it’s stupid, i know.”

riki reached out for your hand, which you obviously let him have. “you’re a good friend.” he flashed you a sweet and caring smile. you let out a sigh of relief, it felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. all this time you had been pushing for yourself to hate him, while it was all just a plot to get rid of your feelings for him. crazy.

it was 11:00 pm.

you and riki had already finished the project and were laying on his floor. the both of you just staring at the ceiling and stealing glances at each other. what lovesick little kids.

after noticing the time, you hopped up and told him you really needed to go. he gave you a small pout with puppy eyes trying to get you to stay, and of course, it was hard but you’d rather leave now and see him later than get grounded and not see him for another month. “i can just text you, don’t make that face.”

he escorted you down the stairs, both of you moving discreetly, careful not to wake the boy’s parents. he opened the door for you and you turned around, gazing at him. “what are you thinking?” he asked with a tired smile on his face and small pieces of fluffy hair sticking up in every direction. you gave a shy smile and pecked his lips. he was very surprised, but also very happy.

“nothing.” you said, holding a cheeky grin in an attempt to hide your shyness. “wow, just to think that you hate my guts,” riki poked fun at you.

“hm, hate is such a strong word.”

“what would you call it then?”

“i would say. . . i hate(d) you. past tense.”

the two of you just laughed, both of you yawning shortly after.

“goodnight, mr. ni-ki.”

“goodnight, y/n.”

and with that, the two of you went your separate ways. but this time, with mutual feelings.

oh and btw, the project got you guys an A+ ;).

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babybottlepop96 · 4 years

Text

Hikaru Hitachi in x Fem!Fujioka!Reader (NSFW)

Warnings: smut after the time skip. Nothing to much but it's there so you have been warned.

A/n: OHSHC was the very first anime I watched and it's what got me into anime in the first place. So here some Host Club Smut for ya!

It was like any normal day in the life of a commoner. School, work, clean, cook, downtime, sleep, repeat. So when the weekend came and Haruhi would be home to help out and you actually had a day off from work, the two of you just relaxed. She told you all about the host club's wacky adventures that day and you couldn't help but giggle and the way she described Tamaki. You never met the guy, but you could tell he had something for your older twin. It was so obvious, but as smart as Haruhi is, she was completely oblivious. And from you gathered from all the stories, he was too. "How about I make us some lunch Haru?" You said standing.

"I'll come with you! I haven't cooked much since I started Ouran and it will be fun to make something together!" She smiled and you smiled back.

"I'd love that!" The two of you made your way to the kitchen and began preparing when someone knocked on the front door.

"I'll get it." Haruhi said and left while you continued to grab stuff to make some homemade ramen. You noticed the lack of food and ingredients in the kitchen and made a mental note to go to the market later. "Uh, (y/n)? You know how you asked me to keep out of the host club's crazy antics?" Haruhi asked while standing nervously in the doorway.

"Yeah?" You turned around slowly, not really liking how she was talking.

"They're here." You froze. You didn't want to be a distraction for your sister or to get caught up in anything related to the host club because you had too much work to do. You had to help keep the house clean and prepare food and actually work a job to help out around the house. You didn't have time to get caught up in some crazy plans to get two children together or go to the beach and flirt with people. Not that you knew that would happen but you knew it could've been a possibility.

"Oh, okay. I'll make some tea!" You said with a smile. Just because you weren't interested in the rich guys your sister became friends with didn't mean you were going to be a rude host. Wow… host.. weird. You quickly made some of your special tea you bought. It was more expensive but it tasted amazing and you only used it for special occasions. You carried a tray of cups with the tea along with some milk, sugar and honey just in case if they wanted to put it in. "I made tea." You smiled as you walked into the living area to see everyone sitting on the floor… try to conserve space?

The group of boys turned to look at you and their eyes widened. "You look just like Haru-Chan! But more girly!" A small blonde boy, Hani you assumed from the descriptions Haruhi gave you, spoke and smiled.

"Identical!" The orange hair twins, Hikaru and Karou?, Spoke.

"Haruhi? Who is this?" The tall blonde with a slight french accent asked.

"This is (y/n) my sister. My… twin…. Sister." That's when all hell broke loose. Arms being flung around and crying? Were they crying?!

"Haruhi! How could you not tell us you had a twin!?"

"She is so cute!"

"Daddy has two daughters now!!!"

"Hm."

"I knew all along." Many voices spoke and it was giving you a headache.

"If you could all just calm down, maybe we could talk like normal humans?" You spoke after, surprisingly, successfully setting the tray of tea cups on the table. So everyone quieted down and that when you began to answer the questions. "Both Haruhi and I got accepted into Ouran, but I chose to not go because one of us needed to help dad with bills and food and keep the house clean. Both of us would have been hard on money and one of us needed to stay. So I decided I would since I didn't get as high a score as Haruhi and she has more of a reasonable life goal than I do. So it was only fair if I let her go to the best school they had to offer. Yes I am the younger twin, but only by a few minutes." And so on and so forth. When you heard everyone's stomachs rumble, you realized that no one had eaten lunch yet. "I'll go to the market and grab stuff for some stew or something." You stood and grabbed your jacket and slipped on your shoes.

"I'll come with you." Haruhi stood and you stopped her.

"Your friends are here, you should stay." You smiled and she gave you a sad smile back

She knew you didn't have time for friends since taking on a job along with doing school and cleaning and everything to help out. You left and headed to the market when suddenly someone came up beside you.

"Hey." They said and you turned to see one of the twins.

"Hello, Hikaru. What are you doing here?" I asked and he looked wide eyes at you for a moment before speaking.

"I thought you could use some company."

"I see, well, you know the rest better than I do. What kind of food does everyone like?" You asked.

"Stew is fine. Any kind really." He shrugged. The two of you walked in silence for a moment.

"She never told us she had a twin." He finally spoke after you two had left with the bags from the market.

"I know. I didn't want it to distract her from her studies and to be honest, I didn't want to get any attention from you guys either. She talks very highly of all of you, but I heard stories about Tamaki. Daddy? Is he like…. One of THOSE guys?" You asked and he laughed.

"I don't think Boss even knows what a boner is. Much less how to actually kiss someone or even think that being called daddy is a kink." The two of you laughed and joked around the whole way home.

TIME SKIP (A FEW MONTHS LATER)

"H-Hikaru." You whimpered inside the dark closet. You and Haruhi were invited to the Suoh estate for a small party, which is how you ended up playing one hour in heaven. How you ended up with Hikaru inside the closet. His lips trailed soft sweet kisses down your neck, he was on a hunt. Looking for that spot that made you melt, and when he found it, boy did he abuse it.

"You're just so beautiful, (y/n)." He kissed your lips again gently. "So incredibly beautiful." He kissed you again but with more passion. "Your fun *kiss* your smart *kiss* and you are just so kind. I can't hold myself back any longer." He looked into your eyes, lips only millimeters apart.

"Then don't." You whispered. And that's when he attacked your lips in a bruising kiss. Hands tangled in hair and clothes being thrown around the decent sized closet. Every inch of your skin and his were left out in the open for each other to explore. "Let's.. let's try something." You breathed out and he nodded for you to go ahead. You laid him down on his back and proceeded to straddle his face, facing his dick. He grabbed your hips and pulled you down to his face and began to lick a stripe from your clit to your ass. You moaned as you leaned down to take him into your mouth, you couldn't see what he looked like in the dark but fuck he was thick and long. He began to suck on your clit again, causing you to moan around his cock, which he involuntarily bucked his hips a bit. He moaned and you felt it go straight to your core. You came pretty quickly and he didn't waste a single drop.

Suddenly you found yourself on your back and he attacked your lips once again. He suddenly slammed into you and you cried out in pain. "Oh, oh my God I'm so sorry! I.. I'd isn't realize that your were a-"

"It's okay! Really, just… give me a minute." He nodded and gave you a sweet passionate kiss. Only when you bucked your hips a bit, a silent plea for him to move, did he move. The room was then filled with sweet moans and groans from the two of you. You came another three times before his hips began to get sloppy.

"I.. I'm gonna-" he didn't have time to do anything before he released himself inside of you. "Oh fuck! I'm so sorry!" You pulled him down to kiss him.

"It's okay. It's okay."

"Will you please be my girlfriend, (y/n)?"

"No, I only fucked you and gave you my virginity because I don't want to go out with you." The two of you laid there for a second before you two laughed.

"So, tomorrow night? Dinner and cuddles?"

"You bet that ginger of yours there will be cuddles."

#ohshc fic #hikaru hitachiin #smut #female reader #hikaru hitachiin smut #love this anime #hitachiin hikaru x reader #hitachiin hikaru x reader smut

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blueberrysets · 4 years

Note

Alright so I may or may not ha e just seen your navigation post and diOaksnsks ma'am you now have yourself a top fan soaowisis anyways, may I request headcanons for Yaku, Kenma, Akaashi, and Sugawara with a same year as them s/o who's part of the music club and the younger members look up to said s/o like a big sister? I wonder how they'd react...

From: The one and only BucketofForks

To: You :DD

okay, this request is sO CUTE!! AHH!! thank you for being my first request and I hope you enjoy it! :)

their musical s/o that acts like a big sibling to the younger members

sugawara

suga met you after school when he just so happened to walk by the music room on the way to practice.

his ears picking up such a beautiful sound flowing from the cracked open door that his body just seemed to move by itself over there.

through the small window, he could see that someone was obviously practicing the violin. their eyes closed with a pleasant look on their face.

he was mesmerized, his eyes following along with the way their body would sway along to the music and their foot-tapping to keep the rhythm

he couldn’t help himself to push further into the room and clap after they were finished, a bright red blush spreading across your face as you realized someone was watching you

“that was amazing,” suga exclaims, his bright smile livening up the room

“really?” you ask, “I’ve only had the piece a couple of days, but we have a show coming up soon so I want to get it down.”

“well I think you definitely have it down alright, can you play me another?”

yes, he was late to practice that day, but BOOM romance erupted from there.

the first time the boys met you, it was when you walked into the gym to give suga some notes for one of his classes. of course, you walked right into the fifth kageyama and hinata argument of the day.

of course, all of the other boys are tense and not sure how to stop them from bickering but DUN DUN DUN suga’s s/o to the rescue.

“alright, it seems like you two need to sit down and have someone guide this conversation,” you blurted out, everyone’s head snapping towards the unfamiliar voice.

“hey sugar,” suga voiced as he jogs his way over to you, wrapping his arms around you before placing an obnoxious kiss on your cheek, “don’t worry about them, they do this all the time.”

“is that so? well, it seems like they’re holding everyone else up, I’ll sort them out.”

coach ukai is just like please, I’m begging you.

so kageyama and hinata are dragged over to the bleachers where they are scolded by their upperclassman and lead through a very thoughtful and successful conversation

even made them hug it out, which was great blackmail for tsukishima later on.

the boys knew that if you could calm down kageyama and hinata, then you definitely need to stick around.

and you did, in fact becoming very close with them.

you’re seen at every one of their volleyball games, cheering so loudly for the boys (well, mostly suga.)

you probably yell embarrassing things like “SUGA YOUR BUTT LOOKS GREAT.” “HINATA SWEETIE, PULL UP YOUR PANTS.”

the boys are in the front row for every performance you have, asahi has definitely cried once when you had a solo

you’re one of the few people that can pick on tsukishima, and him not having a comeback for it

you walk around and make sure that the boys are eating properly at lunch

you help yachi with breathing exercises when she gets too overwhelmed

you always make sure that they all get big hugs after the games

you tease nishinoya and tanaka by telling them that someone was going to ask kiyoko out today, just to see their reactions

but most importantly, you give them all emotional support when the boys need it the most.

overall, suga’s s/o would be just as chaotic as him. but loves to give them bear hugs, a good scolding, and sneaks them some snacks throughout the day to make sure they have enough energy.

akaashi

akaashi met you during one of fukurodani’s talent shows, hosted by the music club!

you signed up to perform, deciding to play your guitar and sing as well.

akaashi couldn’t take his eyes off of you, his heart fluttering with every note that you would sing.

he loves the way you let yourself get lost in the music even though you’re performing in front of hundreds of people right now.

he had to talk to you, and he gathered up the courage to after the show.

“hey,” he stutters slightly as he approaches you, you’re even more stunning up close, “you did amazing up there.”

“oh gosh,” you laugh slightly covering your red cheeks, since you’ve always had a crush on the observant setter of fukurodani, “you’re too kind, but thank you.”

“would you teach me how to um, play the guitar maybe?” he blushes

you couldn’t believe it, THE akaashi keiji is asking YOU to help him learn how to play guitar? you obviously agreed to it, anything to get close to him

the weekly guitar lessons, turned into weekly dates, that turned into finally becoming significant others.

the first person you meet is bokuto, naturally. he forgot his lunch at home that day and didn’t want to spend money to get something to eat. his hair all frumpy as he goes into emo bokuto.

but lucky for him, you always pack an extra lunch in case one of your friends forget theirs. so you offer it to him, and bokuto looks at you as if you put the stars in the sky. bokuto happily eats your food, complimenting it with every bite. then invites you to come to their practice.

akaashi was nervous to have you come to practice, what if he messes up? what if you think volleyball is lame? what if the boys hate you?

yet when you stepped into the gym, you seemed to fit right in.

you help them set everything up, you get along with yukie and kaori, you compliment bokuto when he seeks your praise, you help toss to konoha, and sneak in little kisses for akaashi

since that day, the team seems to stick to you like glue

they always ask you for help when it comes to studying

you give them little performances during their breaks in practice

you give them head pats and words of encouragement before every game

you even invite them to every single one of your performances, knowing exactly where they in the crowd from bokuto’s prominent voice.

basically, you become the teams' second mom behind akaashi. you support them with motherly love and they support you back by being your number one fan.

kenma

you were a mystery to kenma at first

every day after school, kenma would hear the most beautiful voice singing in the stairwell of the school. yet, he could never see who it was since they left before he reached the bottom.

but one day, he was determined. it was like figuring out who the mysterious voice was that was guiding him in a video game, so he left earlier to wait at the bottom of the stairs. lo and behold, here comes you singing to your heart's content as you descend the stairs.

stopping in the middle of a long note as your eyes land on kenma, sitting on the bottom step looking up at you with a slight smile on his face.

“you have a nice voice,” his soft voice states as your cheeks become redder by the second

“oh, thank you, I don’t really sing in front of others,” you state bashfully

“you should join the music club,” he casually states as he picks up his volleyball bag, “they would accept you right away.” then he walks off, gaming on his phone.

the next week you come racing towards him, a bright smile on your face as you explain to him that you got into the music club.

“but,” you explain as your smile drops, “I still can’t get over the nervousness of singing in front of others.”

“you can start by singing in front of me, if you’d like,” kenma states, his eyes lowered in shyness, “then maybe once you’re comfortable around me, you can work your way up.”

“oh! like leveling up in a video game,” you exclaim.

kenma swears his heart stops for a second at that statement, his cheeks a bright red.

“yeah, exactly like that.”

so every day, either before or after school (depending on his practices) you would sing in front of kenma. while either walking to school or from, eventually kenma couldn’t hold his feelings in any longer and finally asked you on a date. and then you became love birds.

you met the boys by kenma’s idea actually

“you’re comfortable around me, what about we move up to my team?”

you agreed, reluctantly of course. but here you are, in the gym about to sing to a group of boys.

but you put your big kid pants on, and you did it. you ended up making lev cry from how beautiful your voice was, you had to console him with hugs and head pats.

the boys were in awe of not only your talent but the way you just casually hugged lev. soon enough, all of the boys wanted hugs. then they became your little clingy cats.

you had Yamamoto hissing at people in the hallway when they looked at you as if kenma did already do that.

you sang the periodic table song per kuroo’s request

you always listened to lev excitedly explain something and explain something to him if he didn’t understand

when it came to your first ever performance on a stage, the boys sat in the front row so you had familiar faces to look at.

it was at that moment that you would’ve never been where you are without kenma.

yaku

the boys were curious, why has yaku been showing up to practice at the last minute every day?

he would run in, out of breath, with a sappy look on his face.

so, they followed him (as sneakily as lev and Yamamoto would let them) and see what he did after school every day.

that's when they found you and him in the music room, you were playing the piano while GASP, YAKU WAS SINGING?

the boys were astonished, not only because he had this talent and he never told them. but because he has the voice of an angel??

his voice is what made you approach him in the first place, you heard him singing loudly with his headphones in his ears while he walked home from school one day. you just so happened to need a voice to test out the new song you just wrote.

so you asked, well more like begged him. but you were too cute to say no to. you would meet every day after school, he even helped you fix some things for the song. eventually, you two would start hanging together at lunch and even after school. leading you two to start dating.

but now here we are, with all of the nekoma men's volleyball team in too much shock to move as they find their libero singing beautifully in front of them.

oh but don’t worry, lev will say something.

“yaku, you sound like an angel!” he exclaims as he steps into the room.

“LEV?”

“Actually we’re all here.”

“WHAT?”

cue yaku running around the music room to hit each and every single one of them for a. stalking him and b. finding out his secret.

which leads to you introducing yourself, and having another shock to the team as yaku actually has a significant other?

“whaattt?? yaku got someone before me?” kuroo whines as he pouts with his arms crossed. leading you to karate chop him on top of the head, because no one disrespects your mans >:(

that small action would make the team realize that they now had two mothers to yell at them.

and oh boy would you.

you had to scold lev if he would say something mean to other teams (without realizing, he's a precious boy he doesn’t mean any harm)

you drag Yamamoto by the ear when he over girls for too long

you take kenma’s gaming devices so that he eats during lunch

you also scold kuroo every time he hits lev with a ball

but they wouldn’t have it any other way, because they adore you (and you keep yaku calm)

when it finally came to performance time for your song and for yaku’s big singing debut, you wouldn’t want any other team to be in the front row.

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bandaigaeru · 3 years

Text

comfort place - yang jeongin

→genre: friends to lovers →synopsis: comfort can manifest itself in many forms. some find it in the fantastical world of the arts. others find it in sports. but, for you, comfort is a person. →word count: 6.5k →pairing: jeongin x gender neutral reader →warnings: drunk jeongin, mentions of puking

“Why are you doing that?”

“Doing what?”

“That,” your eyes go wide as you nod at his stature. He’s hunched over your trash can. Blue gloves shield his hands as he digs.

“Oh. I think I lost my earring or something.”

“And your first instinct was to search my trash can?” you quirk an eyebrow. Perhaps you should mention that this isn’t just any trash can, it’s your kitchen one. Full of discarded, burnt ramen and your roommate’s weird protein shakes that will clog your drain otherwise.

He nods, as though this is the most normal first step to a lost earring. Yang Jeongin is many things, but being questionable is one of his strongest traits.

You slip behind him to get to the fridge. Water bottles line the right half, more commonly known as your roommate’s side. You reach for one.

“What are you doing on March twenty-fifth?” he asks, arms deep in your trashcan. He’s really going to endure this conversation without a single shred of his pride disappearing.

You try not to look at him as you glance at the calendar. Two weeks away, the small square for that Saturday reads “NATIONALS” in large red letters.

You hum to yourself. “Dog sitting.”

“What?” he looks at you, eyes squinted in confusion, “Why?”

“Danceracha’s going out of town for the dance contest. I told you this.”

He exhales a deep, surrendering sigh as he straightens his back and plucks the gloves off. He shakes his hands in the cool air before starting for your sink. The calm stream of water trickles out. “Man. That sucks.”

“Why?” you question. Your fingertips draw marks of condensation along the plastic.

“I was gonna invite you to a party,” he mutters. A pout comes to his lips. For a moment, your heart drops. He looks the same as when you met him. All those years, long with memories but short in quantity, whizz past you.

“Party?” you repeat.

“Yeah,” he nudges the water stream off.

Parties and Jeongin don’t mix well. History has proven this.

“Whose party is it?” you start for the living room, knowing he’ll follow.

“You don’t know him,” he says, his voice never once fading because, indeed, he’s on your tail.

“Okay, but what’s his name?”

“Chan. Actually,” he hesitates, “you might know him.”

As you sink into the couch, chipped leather scratching your legs, you glance at him. His eyebrows are scrunched into his thinking stance. Then, his features light up once he finds the answer. “Do you remember sophomore year’s biology class?”

You nod.

“Remember when that senior came in to make fun of Mr. Lee?”

Again, you nod.

“His best friend is Chan. You probably saw them in our freshman yearbook for spirit week. They dressed up as Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum for Twins Day.”

Your mouth forms into an acknowledging part. “Got it.” In fact, the recurring image instantly pops into your head. You can thank all the hours spent staring at it with stifled laughter for that.

“So what’s the party for?”

He shrugs, “Some college achievement shit.”

“And you got invited?” you laugh. Jeongin barely made it out of high school. He took one harrowed glance at the local campus and nearly cried. You don’t blame him, though. That place is stressful. Even as a freshman you can say this.

He rolls his eyes. “I’m cool, you know? I don’t need to be in academics for them to know that.”

“Sure,” you nod.

“I’m serious!” His lips quirk up in a defensive manner that sends a spark through your chest.

Among other things, Jeongin is confusing. Questionable and confusing. These are the words you say when someone asks you what he’s like. Because seriously, why does he always do things so infuriating yet endearing?

He runs a hand through his hair as he unlocks his phone. His thumb works quickly to swipe through a message log before he tilts the phone so you can see. “See?”

The conversation in question is short, a maximum of four texts. The details blur as he snatches his phone back as quickly as he showed it. Again, infuriating.

“Are you planning on going alone, then?”

This question makes him freeze. He stares at the wall wielding a mounted TV, whose black screen reflects the image of him by your side, shoulder to shoulder. A small smile tilts his lips. “I guess. People want me there. So I’ll find my niche.”

See? Endearing.

You have no doubts that he can find a place to fit in. He did it in high school and he’ll proceed to do it in the future. That’s just how he is. Plus, maybe he can allow someone else to feel safe too. Like he did for you.

ii.

High school is a demon with a comforting smile. When you’re forced to transition, they tell you it’s all fun. Sunshine and rainbows, if you will. What they don’t tell you is that luck will always make it so you don’t get any of your friends in your classes. And this, with your contradicting lunch shifts, will slowly force you out of the friend group you had stuck with since elementary school.

Perpetual tears are stocked behind your eyes. Waiting for the perfect moment to fall because let’s be honest, any minor inconvenience could push you over the edge. Stress does that to you.

In third period of your second week, your math teacher announces that she’s decided on her seating chart. She makes you line up against the walls as she grabs her reference sheet, lined with the images of desks, names scribbled atop them. “Jeongin,” she says, pointing to a desk in the front row.

A boy a few feet away from you steps out from the crowd to claim his desk. He’s wearing an oversized maroon hoodie whose back is marked “Yang” in white letters.

Your teacher stops at the seat next to him. She glances at you and your heart drops. “Y/N,” she points to a desk.

Sitting up front is worse than the incessant plagues of high school drama. All eyes permanently burn into the back of your head, even when not a single soul acknowledges you.

As you try to settle into your seat, back a little stiff from trying to shrink yourself into a tiny marble, the boy beside you leans over. “Hey, you okay?”

For the first time, your eyes lock. His remind you of the innocence of childhood, that blank yet full gaze. You nearly melt, but instead, your back loosens.

“Yeah. I just don’t like sitting in the front,” you chuckle awkwardly.

He smiles. Not one of the pity ones, but a real toothy smile. “Aww. Me neither, I always feel like everyone’s watching me.”

Finally, a person who gets it.

“But I just have to trick myself into not caring,” he says, glancing at the whiteboard. Shadows of poorly erased marker line the corners.

Abruptly, after his serene gaze, he jumps back to you. “Do you like coffee by any chance?”

Despite the initial shock of the question, you say, “Yeah, I do.”

As it turns out, his family owns this huge coffee shop right next to the bookstore you used to frequent. His mom was rather happy to see a new face. On that day, she accepted you as family.

And math didn’t turn out to be so hard that year.

iii.

The apartment grows quiet after Jeongin inevitably has to leave. Your roommate’s dog comes trotting out from his room. His nose is upturned, scouting for a soul to give him attention.

“Come here, Kkami,” you pat the empty spot on the couch beside you. He runs the rest of the way. Instead of resting on the couch cushion, he prefers your lap. This pickiness he obtained from his owner.

Hyunjin’s anything but a bad roommate. He does the dishes, sweeps when he finds a large puff of Kkami’s fur traveling your hardwood like a tumbleweed, even brings home coffee when you have a huge study night ahead of you. However, when it comes to you and Jeongin, your mutual hangouts on weekends, he has a very specific need. And that’s to be around you two as little as possible.

He claims it’s because he can’t stand third-wheeling. Jeongin refuses to understand this concept. “If we’re not dating, it’s not third-wheeling?” he’d said, numerous times.

Hyunjin won’t budge on the subject.

The tune set as Jeongin’s ringtone, chosen by him, plagues the air. You reach for your phone, placing a protective hand on Kkami’s side to prevent him from falling.

“Hello?”

“Problem: What would you do if your brother told you he got a girlfriend?”

You squint at your reflection in the TV between scene transitions. It looks odd without him beside you. “Which brother?”

“Guess which one would make me more dumbfounded. Hint, it’s not the older one.”

“Your younger brother got someone before you?” you snicker. Jeongin holds his pride in his individuality. Losing to a younger brother with something like this is hilarious.

“This isn’t funny! Should I be a serious big brother and talk to him or should I just seethe in silence?”

“Neither. Leave him alone.”

He does something akin to a whine. “But-”

You stick up a finger, though he can’t see you as you interrupt, “C’mon, Jeongin. He’s a teenager. Let him be.”

Sometimes, it feels like he’s the outsider and you’re the true, reasonable sibling.

He sighs. You imagine him pushing his hair out of his eyes and staring up at his ceiling. All lost in the possibilities that lay before him, since you and him both know he won’t listen to you.

“Can I hang up now?” you ask, glancing at the front door.

“Are you gonna abandon me for your significant other too?”

You scoff as the front door opens. “You’re ridiculous.”

Hyunjin steps into the apartment. His hair is damp with sweat and lays jagged in front of his eyes. You raise a hand to wave.

“It’s a real question, though. You know whoever it is will be jealous of me.” Now, you know, he’s just prodding for a reaction. You can practically hear the smirk in his voice.

“Yes, Jeongin. I would one hundred percent drop you for some person who offers emotional stimulation,” you monotonously chide.

Hyunjin gives you a curious look as he passes. You would think he’d be used to this by now.

“Okay but,” Jeongin’s voice grows low as he settles onto his bed, “would you really? Tell me you won’t.”

“I won’t,” you press your back deeper into the couch. It’s not like you’ve had many romantic opportunities since meeting him. Jeongin, though also needy, is more interesting than anyone else you’ve met. He’s a shiny emerald among a sea of charcoal.

“Good,” he says, and you can tell he’s smiling. The image of his little dimple indenting makes you mirror the sentiment.

“Now can I hang up?”

“Fine,” he sighs.

Through a laugh, you manage, “Goodnight. Love you.”

“Love you too.” And then the line goes dead.

iv.

“Are you sure you don’t like him?” must be a trendy replacement for ‘good morning.’

“Who?” you ask, rubbing your eye as you start for the cereal cabinet.

“Jeongin. Who else?” Hyunjin says. He sits at the kitchen table. A plate of freshly heated blueberry waffles sits before him.

Without turning to him, you say, “I’m sure.”

It’s a reflex, really.

He exhales in the most exaggerated way possible to grab your attention. His eyes are cold with the hunger for an answer. A real one.

“I don’t like him,” you say slowly, allowing each word time to sink into the air.

The thought has surely crossed your mind. It’d be unrealistic to say you’ve never pondered the great possibility of being in love with your best friend. But ultimately, you don’t think you are. Sure, you’d take a bullet for Jeongin. Just not in the ‘wow I’m madly in love with you’ kind of way. You tell yourself it’s in the ‘you’re going to do so much good for the world’ kind of way.

“Fine,” Hyunjin admits, picking up one of his waffles and taking a caveman bite.

Most of breakfast is quiet as you sit opposite him, staring into your bowl. Your milky reflection takes you off guard a few times.

“You know,” Hyunjin says after a while, his voice raw and a little croaky. He has to bring a hand to cover his mouth as he clears his throat. “You should get him to stay with you while I’m away.”

As you look back up at him, he adds defensively, “I’m not trying to play Cupid.”

You shrug, “He probably has other plans.”

Yet when you text him a few hours later, he jumps on it. “It’ll be like a sleepover! Don’t you miss when we did those?”

You did, but you don’t admit it.

The week of nationals arrives too quickly for your mind to process. One minute, you’re studying for an upcoming exam and the next there’s a knock on your bedroom door. It doesn’t wait for a sound before opening.

“Hey, I’m leaving.”

Hyunjin’s dressed in black sweatpants and a black hoodie, which covers his messy hair. Perfect for his night of sleeping on the bus. A duffel bag packed and puffy hangs off his shoulder.

“Good luck,” you smile up at him.

“Thanks. Don’t try sneaking into the venue with your rat like you did last year,” he returns the smile.

“Hey, it wasn’t my idea,” you rush to defend yourself.

He scoffs. “Yeah, right. You still played into it.”

“And we got to support you as your lovely friends.”

“You were the only people cheering during the contemporary dance,” he mumbles, stepping back into the hall.

“To be fair, we couldn’t realize because we were so involved!” you shout to match the increasing distance.

“Right!” he calls, a laugh shaking his words.

Studying is now a failed mission. Every time you glance at the words printed on the textbook’s glossed pages, they just blur together until your mind drifts to Jeongin. When is he coming over? He said he’d be here by seven. It’s roughly a quarter past. He has a key, so it’s not like you have to be free when he gets here.

When you succumb and close the textbook, you hear shuffling in the living room. Shortly followed by Kkami’s familiar barking, which he only pursues when someone’s here.

The feeling of a generously excited puppy fills you as you follow the source.

“Hi,” you smile.

Jeongin has treated himself to a coffee. He must have just worked a shift.

“Hi,” he hands you the paper cup.

“Oh, is this for me?” you take it. It’s hot against your palms.

“Yeah. It’s hot chocolate. Thought you might want it.”

He drops his backpack, likely stuffed with potential party outfits, by the couch. He stands and scans your face as you take the first sip of the drink. The sweetness takes over and makes you shiver, but the warmth minimizes the shiver to nothing. Surely enough, this is his mother’s hot chocolate.

“Thank you,” you say, looking into his eyes. The living room light has speckled his eyes with stars.

“Of course.”

A moment passes of just looking at each other. Not a single word. You’re not even sure if you’re remembering to breathe.

It breaks when he glances at the TV. “Movie time?”

Settling on the couch doesn’t take long. He sits close enough to you, resting his head on your shoulder. He’s done this for as long as you remember, but why does it feel so close all of a sudden?

He chooses the movie. A tradition you’ve established ever since you accidentally chose a movie so repulsively awful you had to take a break from watching movies at all. The teasing was barely bearable.

Even now, when someone says something similar to that movie, you shiver.

“Are we feeling sci-fi?” he asks.

You almost shrug until you remember where his head is. “I don’t care,” you say instead.

He chooses a romance movie, his safe pick.

And he falls asleep not even ten minutes in.

Hyunjin’s question returns to you in neon lights. Certainly, this tight feeling in your chest couldn’t be akin to liking someone. When you like someone, there’s always a telltale sign. There’s a bright moment of realization. That’s never come for you. Even now, all you can do is question. Question. Question. Question.

vi.

Jeongin’s party outfit is the most conspicuous thing ever. A light blue tee from middle school that has all his classmate’s signatures on the back. Black jeans with holes at the knees. You can’t tell if he’s going to a child’s party or not.

He catches your tilted gaze, matched with the furrowed eyebrows, and huffs. “Would you rather I get puke on a good shirt?”

You blink. “I’d rather you not puke on yourself.”

A noise close to laughter bursts past his lips. “Ha. Funny. I won’t reach that point. I’m thinking people puking on me.”

You nod. Jeongin’s a lightweight, from what you know. But hey, if it helps him sleep at night.

He departs after a long phone call with Chan. He offers a little wave as he opens the door. “I’ll give you live updates.”

“You don’t have to.”

“But I will.”

And indeed, he follows through. Selfies bombard your phone every three minutes. One is taken with Chan, but it’s so shaky and dark that they look like blobs with highlighted cheeks.

These only make you more confused. Maybe Hyunjin was right. But you don’t want him to be. Nothing makes you feel more foolish than catching feelings for a friend who is just that. Friend. That painful, heartbreaking word.

You open Hyunjin’s message log, prepared to reach out and ask if he can help you break down what you’re feeling, but his contact transitions to consuming your entire screen—perfect timing, he’s calling.

“Hello?”

“Guess what?” His voice is drowned out by external shouts.

“What?”

“We took second place!”

“Congrats,” you smile to yourself, leaning against the couch arm.

“It’s all thanks to Felix’s freestyle. That surprise category threw us off, but he really came through,” he rambles. He tells you about all his points and each error, which ultimately seem mundane but apparently make a difference in his detail loving mind.

“Anyway, I just wanted to call. See how you’re doing, you know.”

“I’m doing good,” you nod as though to convince yourself.

“How’s Jeongin?”

“At a party,” you say as your phone buzzes again. Another selfie. This time, he’s in a lonesome bathroom and posing in the mirror. A peace sign that surrounds his eye. That stupid dimple makes your heart jump.

Hyunjin giggles at something on his end and says something not aimed at you. He quickly returns to his serious tone with, “How are you really feeling? Don’t bullshit me.”

You stifle a laugh. Resting your head on the back of the couch, you glare at the ceiling, “Confused.”

“About Jeongin?”

He slips into a quieter place. You sigh. Why are your hands shaking all of a sudden? “Yeah.”

“Well,” he starts, “I pushed you into thinking about it for a reason.”

“He doesn’t like me like that.”

“How do you know?”

“Because friends don’t like friends like that.”

“But you like him like that, so doesn’t that ruin your statement?”

You sit in the silence for a minute. “I guess so.”

His breath is amplified and you can hear each inhale and exhale. “You’ll probably just brush this off, but I think you have a shot.”

You nod. “Sure. A shot at going to the moon maybe. A shot at Jeongin liking me? No way.”

“Look, pessimism isn’t gonna get you anywhere. If you’re too much of a pussy to talk to him, I will. But not because I want to, because it’s terrible seeing you sulk,” he mutters.

A round of applause for your roommate.

“Just give me some time. I still don’t know if I like him,” you glance at the dog, who’s cuddled up on a pile of blankets. Why can’t your life be that simple?

“Not trying to force you or anything, but I think you know the answer to that.”

He’s probably right. It’s not like you can retaliate anyway. There’s a distant knock before he says, “Sorry. I gotta go. I’ll be home tomorrow.”

The following silence is truly suffocating.

vii.

That party changes everything.

Jeongin stumbles home, each step a potential path to faceplanting. It’s this exact stumble that forces him to trip over a box.

The noise draws you from sleep. Through squinted eyes, you stare at him as he tries to regain his balance. His arms are splayed out, searching for a stable support beam.

“Jeongin?” you whisper, though you know it’s him. Who else would be drunkenly returning home at, you glance at your phone, three in the morning?

“Y/N,” he gasps. Your voice prompts him to follow it.

As you stand, he finds his way through the narrow path between couch and coffee table. He throws his arms around you.

“I missed you,” he mumbles, words meshing together.

“I missed you too?” It’s only been six hours.

He holds you at arms length, palms resting on your shoulders. “I love you,” he slurs, eyes drunkenly taking a long blink.

“I love you too?”

“No, like, I really love you. ‘The moon is beautiful’ type of stuff,” he nods.

You’re not sure what he means by this. But it doesn’t matter if you try to question him, because he continues.

“I think about the future a lot,” he says, hands falling to his sides before he falls onto the couch. “Nothing’s ever consistent. But you’re always there.”

“That’s-” you begin.

He wasn’t finished. “I think our wedding would be nice.”

Now, he goes silent as you stand there in shock. He thinks about that? How often?

The moment your lips part to ask these things, a light snore escapes his lips. You grab a blanket from your room, the Totoro one he loves, and you gently cover him. You lean over his face. His cheeks are a little swollen, as are his lips. You push his hair away from his eyes before going to your room. You’re careful not to make a noise as you shut the door.

He’s gone by the time you wake up. For the first twenty-four hours, you shrug it off as a painful hangover he’s just sleeping through.

Most hangovers don’t last a week, though.

One time, sitting beneath a sky littered with stars, Jeongin released a deep breath. “Do you think we’ll ever stop being friends?”

Jeongin’s not insecure about many things, as his philosophy is that if one person finds something unattractive, there’s a hoard who will think otherwise. But this topic is an exception.

“Unless you do something unthinkably terrible, no,” you mumble. And you truly meant it.

So, Jeongin: You haven’t done anything unthinkable.Why have you disappeared?

Life without Jeongin has been incredibly boring. It’s prompted an imminent heartache. Attending class is a lame option considering your bed is so much more comfortable. You never knew missing someone could form a black hole in your body, consuming each grain of energy.

Hyunjin’s the only reason you’re eating. Since he knows you’re not up for any meal, he brings you snacks and another bottle of water—to add to the mountain of empty bottles on your desk.

“Do I need to go break his ankles?” Hyunjin asks one day, nearly a month after his tournament.

You shrug. You know he’s joking, but laughter doesn’t seem to bubble up. It’s lost in the dark cave that is this confusing state.

“I texted him today. No response yet,” Hyunjin adds.

You nod. You got the same treatment, but you stopped trying a while ago.

“Have you gone to the coffee shop? To see his mom or something?”

You shake your head. “No point in it. He doesn’t tell her much. Plus I don’t want to pin her against him or anything.”

Hyunjin sighs. He doesn’t know what else to say, or offer, or do to help you. Not that you’re a lost cause, but he’s starting to lose the ounce of hope he had. To him, you’re too good for this. Telling and convincing you of that is a difficult task.

When he leaves you alone, you cry again. At this point, your eyes hurt when you aren’t crying. But hey, at least you’re sleeping nice. The desperate need to escape can do that to you.

viii.

You tell Hyunjin your conclusion at dinner—something he’s finally tricked you into eating. “I think I love him.”

He nods. “Yeah. Didn’t we already establish that?”

You push the noodles around. “I didn’t want to admit it.”

“Why?”

Averted gaze set to the ramen, though his remains scalding. “I don’t know.”

He reaches across the table to regain your focus. He knows the noodles aren’t that interesting. “That’s okay. Look, we can go beat his ass if you want. Or we can hunt him down and hold him hostage-”

He stops when he sees the small hint of a smile turning your lips up. One of his own appears, and in his mind, he’s breaking into a congratulatory dance. The crack in the sadness is exposed, and it’s slowly breaking further. All that’s next is revealing the ravine of happiness.

After dinner, you sit on the couch and decide to watch a movie. Unlike Jeongin, he gives you movie pick. It reminds you of the bitter taste that’s overcome your mouth since he up and left.

Halfway through the movie, some shitty one Jeongin and you watched a few months ago, Kkami barks at the couch. He looks between you and the crack behind it as if to say, “Hello? Get my bone!”

You glance at Hyunjin, who also waits for you to get up and retrieve the dog’s lost bone. Normally you take turns with this task, but he seems to have forgotten it’s been his turn for the last five times.

With a muted sigh, you pull yourself off the couch. Hyunjin doesn’t even bother to pause the movie. Jeongin wouldn’t do that.

You lower yourself to look into the dark tunnel. With a blind hand you swipe against the floor. A small object connects with the palm of your hand. You drag it out. A small metal earring glares back at you. You drop it in the pocket of your hoodie—which was a gift from Jeongin as you drifted into adulthood. You return to the bone search with a sting in your eyes.

ix.

Happiness is a fragile object.

At the same hour that Jeongin had said the unthinkable, your phone buzzes loudly against your side. Ultimately, this brings you back to the post-sleep daze as you trudge to answer it. Looking at the contact is the last of your concerns.

“Hello?” Your voice is raw. A long gulp of water would be kindly appreciated.

“Hey, Y/N, right?” This is a voice you’ve never heard before. You pull back to look at the contact and, unsurprisingly, there isn’t one. All that stares back is a string of numbers, unique to this person.

“Yeah?”

“Hi, sorry for the late call. I’m Chan-” you nearly hang up out of defensive instinct, but you let him finish. “I kind of need a favor right now.”

“What kind of favor?”

In the background, there’s a loud retching noise. “Um, so Jeongin, right?” Chan nervously laughs.

“We’re not really-” you start.

He interrupts, “I know. But he’s been talking about you nonstop. He’s really a wimp, you know. Actually, I guess I’m not really asking for a favor. I’m doing you a favor.”

You know where he’s going with this. “I’m sorry, Chan, but I don’t think that’s a-”

“Hush,” he says before his voice distances.

“Y/N? It’s Y/N?” the familiar, slurred voice asks.

He wasn’t going to give you an option. Deep down, you’re kind of grateful for that.

When Chan returns to the phone, he says, “I can send you the address. We’re on the first floor, so it shouldn’t be too bad. I would offer to come pick you up, but I’m babysitting.” At these final words, he laughs.

You consider waking up Hyunjin to take you—he’s the one with the car—but you think against it when you realize it’s only a five minute walk.

Despite the daytime weather that is clear sky and sun that hugs your skin, the nighttime

version is a little less welcoming. Indeed the air is breezeless, but it’s a bitter cold. Grabbing a hoodie would have been smart, but alas.

Chan opens the door with a smile. “Hi, come on in.”

He points to a closed door, “Jeongin’s in there. He should be decent. Just a little pukey.”

You follow his directions, while he starts for the couch. At least he’s allowing privacy, you think. You knock lightly on the door. After a long trial of waiting with no response, you slowly push the door open.

His cheek is resting on the cold porcelain of the bathtub. Through dazed and squinted eyes, he looks at you. “Hi?”

“Hey,” you say, stepping into his space for the first time in over a month. Despite the stain of puke on his shirt, you realize that he hasn’t changed much. What physical changes can someone go through in a month? Well. Everything.

You appreciate your mind for allowing his appearance to never leave. Otherwise, you might have looked at him just now and been disgusted. Because it’s Jeongin, and because of this weird tugging feeling in your chest, you don’t. In its place, you look at him as though he holds the world’s most valuable object.

He tries to sit up, nearly falls on his face, but manages. “Do you hate me?”

“No. I don’t think so,” you squat next to him. The familiar weight of his head meets with your shoulder.

“I shouldn’t say this,” he laughs. His mind is going a mile a minute, but his lips refuse to go at an accompanying speed. “I love you.”

You stare at the top of his head. “I love you too.”

“Really?” he lifts his head. He seems to search your eyes for the similar sparkle his hold.

“Yeah,” you nod. You decide to save your cheesy comments until the morning. No point in wasting them if he won’t remember this when he wakes up.

“Did you know that I,” he says, trying to lift himself to his feet. He leans a little too far on a foot, prompting you to rush and steady him. “thought you and Hyunjin were dating for the longest time.” He laughs again.

You squint at him, “Is that why you disappeared?”

A drunk smile finds his lips and his cheeks glow beneath the bathroom light. “Guilty.”

“You’re stupid for thinking it’d ever be anyone but you,” you whisper, glancing anywhere but him. You could say this to the mirror too. Stupid for thinking it could be anyone but him.

He’s ridiculous. Ridiculous enough to allow his smile to drop a little as he leans closer to your face. “I’m going to kiss you,” he whispers.

You watch as he leans a little bit closer. Bit by bit. You even close your eyes at one point. At the last minute, when his breath begins to mingle with yours, he pulls away. “No. Let me brush my teeth first.”

You watch in a stunned silence as he stumbles to the living room. “Do you have a spare toothbrush I could use?” he asks Chan.

Chan responds quietly with, “Yeah, under the sink.”

You beat Jeongin to it, offering him the packaged toothbrush.

“Thanks, love,” he says.

Questionable Jeongin who calls you pet names. You like it, though you’ll try your hardest not to admit it. That’d only feed into his questionable choices.

Minty Jeongin has sobered up a little bit. Instead of kissing you immediately after rinsing his mouth, he stares.

“What?” you prompt.

“Nothing.”

And then he leans in and kisses you. In all honesty, it’s exactly how you imagined kissing him. There’s no stereotypical sparks. It’s just Jeongin, whose lips happen to be on yours. That’s enough. Afterward, though, you acknowledge that Cloud 9 is beneath your feet.

Chan drives you and Jeongin back to your apartment after a difficult talk and one final puke. (The puker looks at you when he feels it coming and asks, “Can you hold my hair back?”)

As you’re helping Jeongin out of the car, Chan leans back in the driver seat and glares a strong eye at Jeonign, “Run away again and I will beat your ass.”

Jeongin chuckles. “Right. Catch me first.” As he says this, he throws his arm over your shoulder for stability. Though, he’s sober enough to walk on his own now. The occasional stumble, sure, but he’s not in dire need of someone to guide him.

You take it as his way of saying he plans on staying.

However, when you make it into the apartment, you don’t bear right to the couch.

Keeping him close will prevent him sneaking out and running away again. That’s a thing of the past, and you’ll make sure of it.

He doesn’t even complain.

“Don’t puke on me, please,” you whisper as you climb into bed. He follows shortly after. Arms naturally find your waist as he pulls you closer to him.

He hums. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Dreamless sleep takes over you, but the entire time you’re aware of his arms and his proximity. In a way, it’s better than dreaming.

It’s even better when you wake up before him. His lips are a pretty shade of pink and for a moment you forget about his eventful night. You press a light kiss to his cheek.

His eyes don’t open, nor does he stir. He’s in that beautiful, drunken sleep. You try not to laugh at the thought of his hangover to come. God, he’s going to be so whiny.

You try to slip out of his arms, but the death grip only becomes tighter. He whines a little, mutters something like, “Don’t go.”

After a few more minutes of just staring at the sleeping boy, boredom takes over. Yeah, staring is nice and all, whatever, but it reaches a certain intolerable point. Ten minutes is that point.

You nudge him, “Jeongin, let go. I need to go to the bathroom.”

“No,” he mutters, burying his face deeper into the pillow.

“Jeongin.”

“What?”

“Let go.”

His eyes finally open. They hold a small sense of surprise, which prompts you to tease, “What? Do you need a breakdown of what happened? Were you seriously that out of it?”

“No. Well, a little,” he stumbles over the words.

“What do you remember?”

“Puking,” he winces as he laughs. There’s that signature headache.

“You don’t remember kissing me?”

Wide eyes stare back at you. His lip shakes as he tries to force words out. “What?”

You laugh quietly. “Yeah. You did that.”

“I’m sorry,” he sits up. His vacant arms feel cold.

“No it’s okay. You only kissed me because I told you I loved you,” you sit up to match him.

His head turns to look at you. Tufts of hair stick up in an oddly symmetrical way. “Really? Since when?”

You nod. “Yeah. Time frame is unknown, but I think the feeling might have always been there. So you wasted a month of your life hiding.”

He tips his head, “Hey now, I had a valid reason.”

Your eyes squint at him. “It could have been avoided if you answered my texts. Or Hyunjin’s. Or if you checked your voicemail. Or-”

“Okay, I get it,” he nods, leaning in to shut you up. He presses a quick kiss to your lips. “I’m sorry.” He doesn’t say how weird it feels to kiss his best friend—but he’s incredibly excited to get used to it.

“It’s fine. I think. My grades kind of tanked,” you comment, glancing at your desk. The tower of water bottles still stands. Somewhere buried beneath them are your abandoned papers.

“Because of me?” his voice is soft, as are his eyes as he fights back the sting of tears. Of all his intentions, this wasn’t one of them.

This look pains you. “Kinda. I thought I had lost my comfort place.”

In order to disguise his tears, he pulls you into a tight hug. “I’m so sorry. I’ll be good to you. We can make latte art together at the shop and stargaze at stupid hours. Whatever you want.”

You laugh into his shoulder. “Is that a promise?”

He sniffles. “Yes. I love you. That’s the second promise.”

xi.

Hyunjin’s reaction is lackluster. A forced gasp as he waves his hands in surprise. “Wow. I totally didn’t give Chan your number or anything,” he says.

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah. He called me trying to drop him,” he points at Jeongin, “on me.”

“And you didn’t want to get out of bed?” Jeongin asks, bringing his mug of freshly brewed coffee to his lips.

“No,” Hyunjin sticks a finger up in defense. “Kkami wouldn’t let me move.”

What he means is: Yes, I didn’t want to get up but allow me to use my dog as a ploy.

You and Jeongin share a glance to confirm this thought. You burst out laughing.

“Do not tell me you’ve developed a couple's telepathy already,” Hyunjin whines, throwing his head back as he begins to pace the kitchen.

Jeongin begs your stare again. He wiggles his eyebrows to pseudo-communicate.

“I’m going to retail therapy,” Hyunjin sighs, dragging his keys off the counter before starting for the door.

A loud fit of laughter fills the air as the door shakes in its frame.

“He’s so overdramatic,” Jeongin manages, wiping a stray tear away from his eye.

You allow this time to watch him intently. All of his details flood over you with definitive clarity. His skin has gotten its first film of tan now that spring is in full swing. A change of season which you had missed out on together. It’s okay, he’ll take you to see the cherry blossoms next year.

“Oh, I found your earring, by the way,” you say when he catches you staring.

“Really? Where was it?” On instinct, he brings his hand up to his right ear. The lobes are not blinged, but it’s still worth checking.

“Behind the couch.”

He gapes at you. “How’d it get back there?”

“How would I know?”

You allow a silence to lay upon you as his face twists to think. All at once, it lights up again, “Ah. It was probably when we had that wrestling match. I didn’t have the back on because my ear was itchy or something.”

Interesting Jeongin. Questionable Jeongin.

Yang Jeongin is many things. Home. Comfort. Love. Above all else, he’s a friend. Who you happen to kiss from time to time.

#posted on april fools because surprise haha #also because i don’t think this is my best but eh #yang jeongin #jeongin x reader #jeongin imagine #jeongin oneshot #stray kids oneshot #skz oneshot #stray kids jeongin #stray kids imagine #skz imagine #bandaigaeru

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crazy4dragons · 3 years

Text

Mama’s Boy

Nuffink is being bullied at the Academy. Canon-verse, a few years after HTTYD3 ends. Rating: PG (very mild language, bullying, a bit of mild violence).

Mama’s boy.

Nuffink fought back tears as he ran out of the Academy, his classmates’ sneers echoing in his head.

Mama’s boy. Mama’s boy.

It all started when a group of kids happened to walk by the Haddock house while Astrid was giving Nuffink a cuddle and kiss goodbye, just as she did every morning before school. It had been their routine ever since his very first day, when he and Astrid both cried — him because he was nervous, and her because she realized that her baby was officially growing up, and all the mornings of completing paperwork with him snuggled in her lap were over.

Nuffink never thought of his bond with Astrid as odd, but the other New Berkian children certainly did. After all, he’d just turned ten years old, and once you hit double digits, hugs and kisses from your parents just weren’t cool.

That only added to the list of reasons to tease him. Nuffink already knew the others snickered behind his back when he couldn’t hit swing his mace hard enough, or hit the target with his axe. And then there was Spitelout, who had somehow talked his way into teaching a class on strength and persistently mocked Nuffink for not being able to do more than ten push-ups in a row.

“You’ve got Jorgenson blood in you somewhere,” he’d laughed. “And Jorgensons aren’t weak.”

The teasing had been happening all week, but Nuffink hadn’t told anyone. Hiccup was off at the annual tribe meeting, and with Astrid left to do the work of two people for a few days, he didn’t want to burden her with his problems.

“Nuffink, wait!”

Nuffink turned around to see Zephyr running towards him. She was a level above him in training, so they weren’t in the same class. Evidentially, however, she’d heard what happened.

“Who’s bullying you?” she demanded, blue eyes narrowing just as her mother’s did when she was angry. “I’ll kick their asses and send them all the way to Hel.” The language she got from Snotlout and Tuffnut, both of whom she spent way too much time with.

“Forget it.” Kicking a stone, Nuffink sank against a large boulder and buried his face in his hands. “I’m never gonna be good enough, especially not if you and Mama keep taking care of me.”

Zephyr sat beside her brother and wrapped him in a hug. From the day he was born, he’d been her best friend. Sure, they fought sometimes as all siblings do, but mostly, they were inseparable. “I’m your sister, Fink. I’m supposed to take care of you.”

“Why, because I’m a baby?”

“No, because we’re family, and family looks out for each other.” Zephyr stood up. “Now come on, let’s go home.”

Nuffink shook his head. “We can’t go home. Mama will ask why we’re back early and I don’t want to bother her with this. Not until Dad gets back tomorrow.”

“Then what do we do?”

“Let’s go to the cove,” he mumbled, wiping his eyes. “We can hide there until the classes let out.”

Zephyr shrugged. “Alright. If that’s what you want.”

The two children crept out from behind the boulder and began walking towards New Berk’s hidden cove, trying to stay off the main paths so they wouldn’t attract attention.

“Aren’t yer two supposed to be at the Academy?”

Nuffink’s heart sank as he heard Gobber’s voice behind them. It figured they wouldn’t make it very far unnoticed, not with Gobber, Valka, and Astrid all working hard to maintain the island.

“Uncle Gobber!” Zephyr smiled. “We were just heading to the Ingermans’ for lunch. Fishlegs invited us.”

“Does yer mother know?”

“Of course. We cleared it with her this morning.” Then, before Gobber could say anything else, she grabbed Nuffink’s arm and urged him forward. “Bye, Uncle Gobber!” she called behind her. “Have a good day!”

The rest of the way to the cove was fortunately fairly vacant; the only Vikings around were a few women and Mildew, all of whom were too caught up in the latest gossip to take notice of the two Haddock children.

“Zephyr,” Nuffink began once they were safely concealed behind the bushes.

“Yeah?”

“What if Gobber asks Mama if she really told us we could eat at the Ingermans?”

“Then we make up another lie,” Zephyr said.

Nuffink bit his lip. “I don’t know. I hate lying to Mama. You know that.”

“It’s either lie or tell her what happened at the Academy.”

“Fine,” he sighed. “But if I get grounded, it’s your fault.”

“Wait.” Narrowing her eyes, Zephyr strained her ears in attempt to detect whether or not she was imagining her mother’s angry voice in the distance.

“If you ever so much as come within ten feet of my son again, I swear to the gods I’ll chop off your legs with my axe and ship you off to the Outcasts!”

Yes, that was definitely her mother. “I don’t think you’ll have to worry about telling Mom the truth,” the girl began cautiously. “She already knows.”

“How?” Nuffink’s mouth gaped in shock.

“Because nothing happens on this island without Mom and Dad hearing about it,” Zephyr said, giving off her best Hiccup impression, hand gestures included.

The boy sighed. “I just hope this doesn’t make everything worse.”

“Mom’s the chieftess,” shrugged Zephyr. “Everyone has to listen to her.”

“Yeah, but her going out there and defending me is only gonna make me look like a stupid Mama’s boy even more.” He kicked a twig on the ground.

Zephyr opened her mouth to respond, but before she could say anything, Astrid emerged from the bushes, fist clenched around the handle of her axe.

“Please don’t make a fuss, Mama,” Nuffink begged. “It’s bad enough everyone thinks I’m too weak to take care of myself.” He fought back the tears brimming in his eyes.

Dropping her weapon, Astrid caught her son in a hug. “My baby,” she murmured, holding him close.

“I’m not a baby,” sniffled Nuffink as he felt a tear slip down his freckled cheek.

“You aren’t weak,” Astrid assured, standing back and pressing a hand to his shoulder. “You’re kind, clever, and thoughtful, just like your dad. And your father is one of the strongest people I know.”

“But I wanna be like you,” insisted the boy.

Astrid laughed. “Trust me, love. One child like me is enough.” She nodded towards Zephyr. “Now come on, you two. Let’s go home.”

…

The next day, Nuffink trudged into the Academy, eyes on the floor as he forced himself to move through the gates and over to his class. Part of him hadn’t even wanted to come to school that morning, but the other part of him wanted to show up and prove everyone wrong.

“Thanks a lot for being a tattletale to your Mama, Mama’s boy,” Spearlout taunted. “She came to my house and cussed out my whole family because you can’t keep your stupid mouth shut.”

“I didn’t tell,” Nuffink said in a small voice. “Word got out and —”

“Mmm-hmm, a likely story,” cut in Hildegard.

Nuffink’s heart tumbled down to his stomach. His excuse was only partly true. Astrid had first heard of the incident from others, but after they’d gotten home from the cove, he’d broken down and told her everything, prompting her to make rounds to several households and threaten the guilty parties with her axe.

“Baby,” laughed Spearlout.

“Hey!” Tearing away from her group, Zephyr charged towards her cousin and elbowed him in the ribs until he fell to the ground. “You leave my brother alone!”

“Ouch! Zephyr!” Spearlout cried, struggling back to his feet and throwing a punch at Zephyr’s nose, which she swiftly dodged.

Hildegard inched closer to Nuffink. “Why don’t you get in there and help? Oh wait, you’re too much of a baby.”

“Yeah,” chimed in Leif. “You can’t do anything on your own.”

“Zephyr, please,” Nuffink begged as he watched his sister aim for Spearlout’s eye. “You’re only making it worse.”

“What in Thor’s name is going on?”

The children turned to see Spitelout stalking towards them.

“Your grandson is messing with my brother,” spat Zephyr.

Spitelout laughed. “Well, lass, yer brother needs to toughen up. He is a quarter Jorgenson, and Jorgensons aren’t weak.”

Holding back tears, Nuffink ran out the Academy and towards the Haddock house. He didn’t care about being tough, not right now. In that moment, all he cared about was going home to Astrid.

As he turned the doorknob, the chieftess turned away from her newly returned husband and narrowed her eyes. “Alright, who do I need to kill?”

“Kill?” Hiccup cut in.

“These half-troll kids — and Spitelout — are bullying Nuffink,” Astrid spat, looking back at Hiccup. “He said it’s been happening all week, but I only just heard about it yesterday. I swear to every god in Hel, I’m—”

The Chief held up a hand. “Take it easy, milady. I got this.”

“But —”

“I got this,” he repeated, kissing her cheek before approaching Nuffink and swinging a comforting arm around his shoulders. “What’s up, bud? Who’s bullying you?”

“Spearlout, Hildegard, Leif,” sniffled Nuffink. “The rest of my class sometimes joins in, too, but mostly it’s them.”

Hiccup offered a comforting smile. “I’ll take care of it,” he promised, ruffling his son’s hair as he opened the door to leave.

“Don’t make it worse, Dad,” Nuffink said, wiping his eyes.

“I won’t. I promise. You can even come with me if you’d like.”

After a moment of silence, the boy took a deep breath and nodded. “I’d actually like that,” he decided slowly.

With that, Hiccup and Nuffink set off for the Academy, where they discovered Zephyr cursing at Spitelout while Spearlout sat against the wall, a purple bruise forming around his eye.

“Excuse me,” Hiccup began. “I don’t know what all this is —” He gestured to the group “—But whatever it is, it’s over.”

“Look what yer lass did to my grandson,” Spitelout growled, motioning to Spearlout. “And then she has the nerve to pull her smart mouth on me. Whatever happened to respecting yer elders?”

Hiccup glared at the older Viking. “It is my understanding, Spitelout, that you and Spearlout are both guilty of bullying my son.”

“Oh, Chief,” laughed Spitelout. “Yer got t’ stop being so soft. You yerself was weak as a lad, and look at yer now.”

“Yeah, I’m in charge of this island,” Hiccup pointed out.

“And yer doing a terrible job,” Spitelout insisted.

“Putting all feelings about me aside, we need to talk about what’s been going on here.” Glaring, Hiccup folded his arms over his chest. “Spearlout, Hildegard, Leif, come over here and stand with Spitelout.”

The three children hesitated.

“Now,” Hiccup ordered, his voice firm.

Muttering under their breaths, they dragged themselves forward.

“When I was a boy,” the chief began, “most of the other kids my age treated me just the way you’re treating Nuffink. It left me feeling like I wasn’t good enough to be a Viking, and certainly not good enough to be Chief. So I told myself that if my kids were ever made to feel that way, I’d find everyone responsible and make sure they served a fair punishment.”

The children’s eyes widened. Spitelout grunted.

“And because you made my son feel bad about himself, I’m going to ask that you kids clean out the yak stables every day. For a moon.”

“But Chief! It wasn’t that serious!” insisted Spearlout, looking to his grandfather with his one good eye.

“That is ridiculous, Haddock,” Spitelout barked. “Yer can’t make them do that.”

“But Chief!” tried Hildegard.

“Two moons.”

“That’s not fair!” Leif shouted.

“So not fair!” Spearlout echoed.

“Three moons.”

Spearlout opened his mouth again.

“I can make it four,” warned Hiccup, prompting him to bite back his retort. “As for you, Spitelout, you’re on outhouse duty until the end of the season. You will also no longer be working at the Academy. From now on, Eret will be teaching strength training instead.”

Spitelout’s eyes widened. “But Eret isn’t even a born Berkian!” he exclaimed.

“And I’ll be there, watching you — all of you — to make sure the jobs get done,” Hiccup continued, ignoring Spitelout’s outburst. “Is that clear?”

The four nodded.

“Now get to work. Classes are over for the day,” Hiccup ordered before turning to Nuffink, who was observing silently. “You ready to go, bud?“

Nuffink nodded as a small, crooked smile appeared on his lips. Maybe taking after his dad wasn’t so awful after all.

#httyd #haddock family #nuffink #zephyr #hiccup #astrid #momstrid #daddycup #chief hiccup #trigger warning bullying #bullying #fanfic #my writing #hiccstrid babies

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lillupon · 3 years

Note

I was thinking about the AEV school trip imagines and thought about what if instead of an overnight trip they would do a day-trip with activities, like those kind of 'teambuilding' activity days we had in high school (I don't know if it's a universal thing but in my high school we had those at least once a year). Usually the teachers ended up joining the games, especially the younger teachers, so I was thinking about Wonwoo letting himself be convinced by his students into joining some games. And then at some point they end up doing one of those shrinking island games (I don't know what the exact name is but it's that game where a group of people have to stand within a limited space, usually played with a large piece of paper). Considering they would play it with the entire group outside, they would use a blanket as 'island'. And of course Wonwoo ends up playing it with Mingyu's group. As the blanket becomes smaller and smaller, Mingyu offers to carry Wonwoo, because all the other male students are already carrying a female student and considering Wonwoo is still alone (it would be inappropriate for him to carry one of his students) and Mingyu is strong enough he says he should carry Wonwoo. When Mingyu first offers, Wonwoo panics and says he really shouldn't do it, and starts making excuses like he weighs too much (even though he already knows Mingyu can carry him without any problems lol) but all the other students cheer them on so they can win the game. Eventually Wonwoo starts feeling guilty that they might lose the game because of him, so he allows Mingyu to carry him. Mingyu can't suppress his smile when he takes Wonwoo into his arms (in a princess carry) and sees the tip of Wonwoo's ears turn red. Wonwoo avoids eye contact because he's internally freaking out, and he curses himself for letting himself be convinced into playing games with his students as he feels Mingyu's arms wrapped around him.

OoOOoOooOo, I like this idea! My school never did anything like that, but maybe it's because I didn't take the right classes, or wasn't in the right clubs. I've never played this game before, but let me try to expand on it anyway:

Wonwoo's stomach swooped as Mingyu scooped him up, as though he weighed hardly more than a feather. His hand instinctively went to Mingyu's shoulder to steady himself.

Their teammates cheered. Wonwoo's face was so hot he swore that steam was rolling off his cheeks. He covered his face with both hands, hiding. His heart was going crazy in his chest, ricocheting off his ribs. It was so risky, putting themselves in this position. Yet he couldn't deny that it was exhilarating, too. This was as close as they could get to showing their affection in public. As close as Wonwoo could get to announcing, Yes, this alpha is mine.

With Wonwoo in his arms, Mingyu squeezed himself into the space between two other students. In the process, Wonwoo's dangling leg whacked someone in the side, eliciting a yelp.

"Sorry," Wonwoo said, shrinking into himself. He pressed a little closer to Mingyu's warm and solid chest. Hesitantly, he rested his head against Mingyu's collarbones. He was just trying to make himself as small as possible, so they could win this game. That was how he justified it to himself, anyway. Besides, no one would think twice about it, not when pairs were in equally intimate positions.

"You're so red. It's cute..." Mingyu whispered, low enough so that only Wonwoo could hear.

Okay, now imagine Mingyu and Wonwoo playing this game before they've gotten together. This takes place earlier on in the school year:

Their blanket-island was folded in half. Students groaned and cursed and laughed as they struggled to fit themselves on the shrunken island. Seungcheol had somehow climbed onto Junhui's shoulders and was sitting atop them. A wide and happy grin stretched across his face. Junhui looked less pleased by the position, but bore the weight. Some students were standing on their friends' feet. Others had clambered onto their friends backs. How anyone thought this game was appropriate to play with hormonal teenagers who just presented, Wonwoo would never know.

Everyone was paired up and pressed close to each other. Even then, it was a tight squeeze, and it left no room for Wonwoo, who had been too slow to claim a place on the island. Wonwoo was left treading shark-infested waters. He had the strange feeling of being thrown back to his high school days, when he had struggled to find a place where he belonged. When he had been the last to be chosen for a team. When he had to go up to the teacher and admit that he couldn't find a partner for a project. Always on the outside, looking in.

"Get on, Mr. Jeon!" a student cried.

"Um, I don't--" Wonwoo fumbled with his fingers as he circled the perimeter of the island, searching for a space he could fit himself into. It wasn't appropriate for him to partner up with a student, but maybe he could squeeze in against some teachers. He spotted Jeonghan and Joshua, but they were already paired up and had their arms wrapped around each other.

"Here, Mr. Jeon," Mingyu said, beckoning him over.

Given Mingyu's popularity among girls, Wonwoo wasn't sure how he had escaped their clutches, but he had.

Wonwoo stopped in front of Mingyu. He shifted his weight from foot to foot. They weren't even touching yet, and already, heat was starting to climb up his cheeks. The thought of their bodies pushed up against each other had his heart racing. He had imagined it often--shamefully--what it might feel like to touch Mingyu, or to have Mingyu touch him.

But he was happy leaving it as just that: a fantasy.

"You can get on my back," Mingyu said.

"I don't know. I'm pretty heavy..." Wonwoo said.

Mingyu snorted. "You're tiny. Pretty sure I could pick you up with one arm."

"There probably isn't enough room for Mr. Jeon to get on your back," Minghao said. "Maybe he can stand on your toes instead?"

"Yeah, sure," Mingyu agreed easily. "Whatever works."

Wonwoo demurred. "I don't know if that's a good idea. I mean, it's not..." It wasn't really appropriate, was it?

"Come on, Mr. Jeon!" Seungcheol said. "Don't you want a free lunch?"

Everybody loved a free lunch, Wonwoo supposed, even teenagers who could blow a hundred dollars on a meal without batting an eye.

When Wonwoo didn't move, other students joined in, goading him on.

It would have been different if he were a female teacher. They wouldn't urge him to do this. But no one suspected that a male teacher could have a crush on an alpha student.

Wonwoo wrestled with himself. If they lost, it would be because of him. This was his only opportunity to touch Mingyu. But he shouldn't tempt himself. This was a line he shouldn't cross.

"Mr. Jeon, please, just get on," Junhui said, red-faced between Seuncheol's thighs. "I'm dying here."

Wonwoo relented, the guilt of letting his teammates down winning over. "Okay, okay." He shuffled a little closer to Mingyu. "Um, how should we do this?"

"I think Minghao's right. You should probably stand on my toes."

Wonwoo bent down to undo his laces.

"Oh, you don't have to do that. Just leave them on."

"I don't want to get your shoes dirty." Wonwoo slipped his shoes off. He took his time with the action, debating how to best stand on Mingyu's toes. Chest to chest? Front to back? Both options seemed dangerous. His throat went dry at the thought of Mingyu's pelvis pressed up against his ass. Was that better or worse than risking having their crotches brush together?

Chest to chest, he decided, since that was what most people had opted for.

"Excuse me," he mumbled. He put an hand on Mingyu's bicep, fingers curling into the sleeve. Gingerly, he stepped onto Mingyu's toes. The uneven arch of Mingyu's feet made him sway.

Mingyu's hands settled on his waist to steady him. The effect was instantenous. Heat flooded through Wonwoo's body; he could feel it pooling all the way at the tips of his ears. He ducked his head to hide the colour on his cheeks.

Wonwoo had never been the partying type back in high school, which was good, since he had never been invited to any. So he had missed out on the party games experience. No Spin the Bottle, no Truth or Dare, no Seven Minutes in Heaven. Being forced into close contact with a person you find attractive must feel something like this. He was torn between fear and nervousness and pleasure.

The number of points of contact was minimal: his hand on Mingyu's arm, Mingyu's hold on his hips. Proximity alone was enough to have Wonwoo's skin tingling all over. The front of their shirts brushed together. It sent a shiver down his spine.

The group had to hold the position for ten seconds in order to survive the round. Those ten seconds seemed to stretch into minutes. Wonwoo held himself stock-still, not daring to breathe. He couldn't detect Mingyu's pheromones because he was on blockers--thank God for small mercies--but the scent of his cologne still made Wonwoo's gut tighten with desire.

Then he made the terrible mistake of peeking up.

Mingyu was already gazing down at him with heavy eyelids and a slight part to his lips. When their eyes met, Mingyu's fingers tightened on his hips.

"That's ten seconds!" someone said.

Heart thudding in his chest, Wonwoo stumbled off Mingyu. He nearly tripped over his feet as he fled to Jeonghan and Joshua's side. He'd stick close to them this next round. He cupped the back of his neck. Felt how hot his skin was under his palm. Mingyu's expression was seared into his mind.

He must have been imagining it, he told himself. But Mingyu had looked at him like... Like he wanted Wonwoo.

Omg I'm crying thinking about how much Mingyu probably wanted to kiss Mr. Jeon in that moment ( ╥ω╥ ) The delicate and reddened tips of Mr. Jeon's ears, the way Mr. Jeon peered up at him, a little scared. Holy shit, it probably made the alpha inside Mingyu go wild. It was a good thing Mr. Jeon moved away when he did, because Mingyu might not have been able to resist!

#asks #aev bonus

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maraudersandlily20 · 4 years

Note

ok dorcas and marlene as chaotic professors at the same university? could be an AU, could just be Hogwarts

As told in Text Conversations:

Groupchat: Picasso is a Bitch

Dorcas: New Teacher alert.

Lily: Department?

Dorcas: Engineering

Remus: Sounds hot

Dorcas: shut up immediately.

Remus: you’re not my mom

Lily: M or F

Dorcas: F

Remus: Dammit

Lily: seem nice?

Dorcas: idk. I didn’t get the chance to actually talk to her. It was more like a moment in passing. She was surrounded by guys, though

Remus: what a lesbian move

Lily: how… how is that even a thing?

Remus: Lils, are you dumb? If girls ONLY hang out with guys, chances are they’re butch. Or they know they aren’t attracted to guys and are wild as fuck and have nothing to lose. They have no one to impress, really. Those are the only two options.

Dorcas: Jesus

Remus: No, I’m sure he wasn’t there

Dorcas: I have to leave this conversation before I physically kill Remus Lupin. Talk to you both later.

Lily: Lunch in our usual spot?

Remus: Tell me if you see the Lesbian again.

Remus: Also, where the fuck is Alice?

---

Groupchat: The Walking Dead

Sirius: Well lads, I dropped off the love of our lives at school. Felt like a proud parent. Almost cried.

Marlene: You are aware that I know how to make explosives from scratch right? I’ve been aching to do it for a while, so you wanna keep doing this? Is this happening?

James: I need him, though. We’re gonna get married eventually. So no. You are not allowed to blow him up

Marlene: Fuck

Peter: How's the new campus?

Marlene: Small. I mean, it’s a lot smaller of a university, harder to get into and all that. But still. For a place that boasts a great deal of wealth, they certainly don’t show it in building size.

Sirius: That’s how you know they have money. They have nothing to prove. Classic rich people move.

Peter: You should know.

James: Did you get settled though, Mars?

Marlene: Enough. I still have to set up the lecture hall to my liking, but it’s nice to have an office that will probably be permanent. And I saw your door just a few down from mine, Jamie boy! Sirius: I should have become a professor. I feel left out. I hate being left out.

Peter: You have the right degree, Paddy. You could be a professor if you wanted.

Sirius: Desk jobs are gross. No thank you. Also, children.

Marlene: It’s not a desk job. And, like, these children are basically full grown adults.

Sirius: Physically, maybe. But I remember what we were like at their age. Mentally, they belong in daycare.

James: You’re just bitter because those college boys outdrank you the other night.

Sirius: THEY FUCKING CHEATED!

Peter: They didn’t though

James: Whatever you say, Pads.

Marlene: Also, I just saw a very beautiful woman. Will keep you updated if I see her again.

Sirius: WHY ARE YOU ONLY SAYING THIS NOW?!?!

---

Groupchat: Picasso Is a Bitch name changed to Hamlet, that’s fucking gay

Remus: Any sign of the lesbian?

Dorcas: No.

Alice: What? What Lesbian?

Lily: Oh, while you were sick, Dorcas saw a very pretty girl. Remus thinks she’s a lesbian.

Alice: Ooh, that’s fun!

Remus: I don’t THINK Lily, I know.

Dorcas: You haven’t even seen her

Remus: Irrelevant.

Lily: Do you guys know if Potter is back?

Alice: I saw him this morning. He was getting coffee.

Remus: I love that man so much. He’s so beautiful I could literally cry. With that hot caramel skin and that wild hair and how he always smells like some weird spice. I want him to be the father of my children.

Lily: Don’t encourage him.

Remus: He’s not even here.

Lily: He can sense your enthusiasm. So shhhhh

Alice: Do we still not like him?

Lily: No.

Dorcas: You know it was an accident, Lils.

Lily: You don’t know that. And I don’t know that. And who in their RIGHT MIND asks someone out after they’ve pushed them into a fountain? Like, the audacity?!

Remus: At least he’s authentic

Lily: Yeah, an authentic bitch.

Alice: Lol.

Alice: I’m honestly really interested in this Lesbian situation, though. Can we get back to that?

Remus: She’s in the engineering department. So if your cute little math loving butt just wanted to wander over there…

Alice: I’m on my way.

Dorcas: Why are we friends? You’re joking, right? Please tell me you’re joking.

Dorcas: ALICE

Lily: They’re doing it out of love.

Dorcas: Well their idea of love is something I am not interested in.

Alice: Blonde?

Dorcas: Fuck.

Remus: Is she blonde, Dorcs?

Remus: IS SHE?!

Dorcas: Yeah.

Alice: Marlene McKinnon. Blonde, blue eyed, I’d say 5”8, 5”9. Masters in Engineering. Very nice.

Remus: Alice, I fucking love you

---

Groupchat: The Walking Dead changed to Update, I’m still gay

Sirius: Why the name change?

Marlene: Needed to get your attention

James: But like… with that?

Marlene: It fucking worked, didn’t it?

Peter: What happened?

Marlene: I saw that beautiful woman again. And I was right. She was beautiful.

Sirius: Sounds riveting.

Marlene: I told you I’d keep you updated, and I am. Stop being ungrateful.

Sirius: Yes commander

James: Who was it?

Marlene: Don’t know. Short, black, curly hair?

James: Where did you see her?

Marlene: She was getting a plate of spaghetti in the Canteen.

James: Hm………..

Sirius: James doesn’t know anyone because he’s too busy mooning over Evans.

James: I am so much stronger than you. Do not come for me right now

Peter: Sirius, you have an appointment here, come down.

Sirius: Fuck.

James: Peter, you know you can just text him personally, right?

Peter: I can’t shame him publicly if I only text him.

Marlene: Facts.

James: Did you talk to her?

Marlene: Nah, she was with people. I wanted to though. She seems lovely.

James: Lovely? Who are you and what have you done with Marlene McKinnon.

Marlene: She’s dead now. I’ve inhabited her body.

Sirius: Thank god, she was a bitch.

Peter: SIRIUS

James: I’ll keep an eye out for her. Let me know if you want me to scout it out.

Marlene: Okay, James Bond

---

Groupchat: Hamlet, that’s fucking gay changed to Dorcas McKinnon has a nice ring to it

Dorcas: Remus, stop changing the group chat name. I know where you live.

Remus: We live with each other.

Dorcas: Exactly.

Lily: Are there lesbian updates????

Remus: I met her. She was wandering around, looking for a pop machine.

Alice: Yay! I love Lesbian updates

Remus: Good news: she’s funny. Like, super funny.

Lily: Saying good news like that often means there is bad news to follow

Remus: She’s uh… friends with Potter.

Dorcas: Uh-oh.

Alice: Oh no.

Lily: I’m really sorry that you have to eternally break up with this woman, Dorky. Because NO. ABSOLUTELY NOT. ANYONE who is friends with James Potter is not worth knowing.

Alice: That’s pretty judgemental, lils.

Lily: .... And?

Remus: Luckily, you don’t have to date her.

Dorcas: No one is dating ANYONE. Jesus, you guys. Chill out about this whole thing

Remus: I don’t think that’s physically possible.

Dorcas: Can we talk about anything else?

Alice: Frank is taking me out for sushi tonight.

Remus: I would marry Frank in five seconds, if he’d let me

Alice: I’ll let him know.

Remus: Thank you, I appreciate it.

---

Groupchat: Update, I’m still gay changed to Emotionally Unavailable Idiots

Sirius: I have met the love of my life.

Marlene: Stop being dramatic

Sirius: Excuse me? EXCUSE ME? He quoted the Princess Bride with me. Word for Word? Marlene, I must marry this man. WHO IS HE?

Peter: Why do I keep missing all of the fun stuff?

James: The fun stuff is watching Sirius gay panic over a stranger?

Peter: Yeah. Obvs.

Marlene: He’s the lit professor.

James: Lupin?

Marlene: I think so, yeah.

Sirius: An english nerd. Perfect. He can read me poetry while I give people tattoos. We’ll make millions.

Marlene: I think… he wants to be my friend. He’s come around a few times. He even brought me coffee once, with a croissant. I didn’t know people were so nice to strangers. Am I in a hallmark film?

Peter: It’s cause you're such a catch, Mars.

Marlene: I will shove that “catch” up your ass, Pettigrew, if you don’t stop being stupid.

James: Impossible. Stupidity is Peter’s middle name.

Sirius: Yeah Peter Marcus Stupidity Pettigrew.

Peter: My middle name isn’t Marcus.

Sirius: Wait really?

Peter: No?

Sirius: Why the fuck did I think it was Marcus?

James: I think Lupin is bi, Sirius. So…

Sirius: James, you are the other love of my life. I will kiss you when you get home. You provide me with the most valuable information and attention. I can never truly repay you.

James: Finally. Getting the recognition I deserve. Can’t wait.

Sirius: Marlene, please. Be his friend, I am begging you. I will give you our first born child.

Marlene: Pass.

---

Groupchat: Dorcas McKinnon has a nice ring to it changed to I won’t hesitate bitch

Alice: Marlene is so nice

Lily: You’re all traitors. She’s friends with the enEMY

Dorcas: I thought Remus was supposed to be the dramatic one

Remus: I’ll take that as a compliment

Dorcas: Whatever helps you sleep at night.

Alice: Seriously though. She’s so nice. A lot of my students have her and they’ve been gushing. Apparently she’s one of the best professors some of them have ever had.

Remus: Damn. High praise.

Lily: Still skeptical

Alice: She asked about you, Dori.

Dorcas: wait, what?

Remus: ALICE SAY MORE RIGHT NOW?!?!

Alice: She said she had noticed that you and I are close and she wanted to know about you. What your name is, what you teach, how long you’ve been working here, if you were single.

Dorcas: She did not ask that.

Remus: Dorcas, shut up forever. Alice is talking. Alice, my love, please continue.

Alice: I may have invited her to eat lunch with us.

Dorcas: Uh…

Lily: You did what?

Alice: She’s new, Lily. I’m trying to help her make friends.

Lily: You did it, didn’t you.

Alice: ummm

Lily: YOU TOLD HER SHE COULD BRING JAMES POTTER, DIDN’T YOU

Alice: He’s her friend. I couldn’t exclude him.

Lily: I never thought this would happen to me. To be betrayed so thoroughly by my own friends. I don’t even have the words.

Alice: Who knows, it might be fun?

Remus: I’m so excited I could burst

Dorcas: Is it legal to drink on campus in the middle of the day?

Remus: Unfortunately not. Trust me, I’ve tried.

---

Marlene McKinnon to Dorcas Meadowes

Marlene: It was nice of all of you to invite me to lunch. I know it was probably awkward for all of you to have to spend time with a stranger. But I really appreciated it.

Dorcas: No problem. You’re always welcome.

Marlene: Maybe… we could go get something to eat off campus sometime?

Dorcas: Yeah, of course. We go to the bar on Wright all the time.

Marlene: Oh, I meant like… just you and me. Actually.

Dorcas: Oh.

Marlene: Yeah. Did I guess wrong?

Dorcas: Guess wrong?

Marlene: About you being into women?

Dorcas: Ohhhh…

Marlene: ??

Dorcas: What did you have in mind? For our date?

Marlene: Wait, is that a yes?

Dorcas: I expect like, first class treatment, because I’ve seen you in action now. Anyone who can wrangle James Potter like that is someone who deserves knowing. So yeah. It’s a yes.

Marlene: Yay! Okay, you won’t regret it!

Marlene: Also, my friend is in love with Lupin.

Dorcas: wait, James?

Marlene: Lol. Nah, James is still hung up on Lily. She’s wonderful, by the way. Tell her I’m grateful she was so kind. I know about what James did last year, so I can understand her bitterness. Fucking funny, though, to see it in person.

Marlene: It’s my other friend, Sirius. He owns the tattoo parlor, Cannis Major, on Levi.

Dorcas: Hmm. Well, let me know what I can do. I’m sure we can get them in the same room at some point.

Marlene: Are you offering to meddle in people’s lives?

Dorcas: Is that okay?

Marlene: Dorcas Meadowes, I’m pretty sure I’m already halfway in love with you.

Dorcas: Thank god.

--------------------

This has been in my ask box for literal months. I’m sorry @tonftyhw !! I had finals and stress and I don’t know how to write. I hope this makes you smile though.

Clarifier for who teaches what if anyone is interested:

Lily-History

Remus-Literature

Dorcas-Art (painting)

Alice-Math

James-Chemistry

Marlene-Engineering/Physics

Sirius owns a tattoo shop because I will die for that AU every time. And Peter works with him, kind of like the brains of the business.

Should I write more of this? It was so fun lol

#my writing #sirius black #wolfstar #remus lupin #james potter #lily evans #peter pettigrew #dorcas x marlene #marlene mckinnon #dorcas meadowes #alice longbottom #text conversations

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ayellowcurtain · 3 years

Text

After tonight’s clip (which actually broke my heart) could you maybe write a lil something about the next time Yasmina will see Younes (alone, or if you want with her brother or Aicha)?

Yasmina and her mom going to the supermarket and meeting Younes who’s there with his mother. Of course there would be a lot of staring between Yasmina and Younes, but also I would love to see him with his mom

Yasmina doesn’t feel like going out, but she’s been denying any invitations from her mom for the past few days and she can tell her mom is starting to worry and soon she’ll start her questions. And Yasmina doesn’t want to have to find an excuse as to why she’s been hiding in her room since Friday night. She spent the whole night crying, not only for Younes and Aïsha being more than friends but everything else, meeting them at the movie theater was just the last straw.

And then she was extremely tired yesterday for the whole day, not feeling like interacting with anyone, even though Elias still has to learn how to knock on a door and he may have sensed something was wrong when he bursted into her bedroom to get borrow some clean sheets because she forgot to put his ones to dry.

She adjusts her hijab around her ears, sitting at the edge of the seat to see herself closely, make sure the dark circles around her eyes are well hidden with the make up she put on.

“Yasmina?” Her mom knocks on the door and Yasmina checks the time while grabbing her phone to put inside her jacket. Her mom is a little early but she rushes to open the door with a smile, closing and locking the door behind her.

“Everything okay?” Her mom asks, clearly searching for any signs that something might be wrong, and Yasmina nods her head, walking to the door.

“Did Elias ask for anything?” She changes the subject, unlocking the door for them, waiting for her mom to join her outside.

“Of course, when does Elias not ask for food?” Her mom laughs quietly, walking next to her and Yasmina snorts. Elias always wants something. She clicks on her phone again because it’s like part of a routine now, to constantly check your social media at all times but Yasmina doesn’t even want to see anything on instagram or check if she got new messages.

Aïsha posted with Younes on Friday, and Yasmina almost deleted instagram from her phone. She and Younes were never a thing but she couldn’t help being mad at Aïsha for posting those photos when Yasmina told her about feelings she wasn’t even sure about. She didn’t trust Aïsha to tell, it just slipped out of her mouth that day but still. Aïsha heard her feelings pouring out and she still acted like she didn’t know a thing.

There’s some notifications from the groupchat with the girls and Yasmina rolls her eyes at that, thinking about Britt and her hot and cold behavior all the time, changing as quickly as the weather.

“So...how are your friends?” Her mom asks, and Yasmina tries not to get defensive and actually tell her mom about them, some of them, at least.

“Luca invited me to go out for lunch today but I didn’t feel like it. I’ll probably have to go to Robbe’s this week to do some homework. We have to watch an old movie for a class…”

“Do you know the title? Maybe I know it.”

Yasmina shakes her head, laughing and meaning it while thinking about how carried away her mom can get with her opinions about movies.

“Robbe has the notes so I don’t know the title.”

Her mom nods her head slowly, pressing her lips together.

“Robbe is…?”

“The one we saw a few weeks ago with his boyfriend.” Yasmina looks at her, not able to keep one more worry to herself. “You didn’t like them.”

Her mom stops before they enter the grocery store.

“I didn’t say anything!”

Yasmina rolls her eyes at that, ignoring the deathly look her mom gives her as a warning.

“You didn’t have to say it, mom, I think they noticed how uncomfortable you were, and decided to walk away to avoid making you even more upset.”

Her mom sighs, following her inside the shop, grabbing a basket for them to put the groceries.

“You and your belgian friends…”

“What’s that supposed to mean? Mom, you don’t even know them. A puppy is literally more harmful than Robbe.”

“Robbe doesn’t understand you. It might seem at times that you live in the exact same reality but it’s not.”

“And I’m only allowed to be surrounded by people that understand me completely?”

Yasmina grabs the milk, carefully putting it inside the basket.

“No, but you’ll understand how it can be helpful once you have the right group.”

“Robbe is a good friend. He understands how annoying it is to study until your brain is fried, he understands about always wanting to get the best grades, he understands about liking to study just because. He understands about enjoying our teenage years, even with school. So it’s not everything, but it’s one thing that’s important to me that only he really gets the way I do.”

Her mom smiles, looking at her, not as judgmental as before.

“He seems nice.”

Yasmina exhales, not wanting to constantly be justifying herself and her choices to every single person.

“He is.”

Someone is walking down the same aisle and Yasmina stops talking, pretending to need to grab something at the top shelf when the other people passing by stop talking and she looks over her shoulder, finding Younes holding a basket, and an older woman next to him, smiling at Yasmina.

“Hi…” Younes starts, looking at her mom. Yasmina is not sure how her mom will react, if Elias has tried to talk to her to talk to their dad and let Younes inside their home again.

“Good morning.” Her mom nods her head at him, and smiles at the older woman.

“I’m sorry, we just moved to this neighborhood and I can’t seem to find where the spices are.” She justifies, and Yasmina’s mom steps closer to take a look at her groceries list to see what they’re looking for exactly.

Yasmina meets Younes’ gaze but only for a brief second, and accidentally. She thought he had stopped staring already.

"How are you?” He asks quietly, and Yasmina keeps her eyes at their moms - she assumes it’s his mom based on the way she has hand carefully wrapped around his biceps.

“Good.”

Yasmina tries to think of anything else, some light and funny to keep her blood running normally inside her body, not making her blush, and to not remind her of what she was on Friday and how much she cried about it already.

Younes’ fingers are holding the basket tight, his knuckles going white as he squeezes the handle. He opens and closes his other hand slowly.

“How are you, Younes?” Her mom finally asks, making them both jump, and Yasmina sees his feet quietly moving a little bit back, away from her.

“I’m good, thank you...How’s everything?”

Yasmina looks at her mom, nodding her head and smiling at him, not as defensive or mad as her dad is about him.

“I’m sorry about my husband. But you’re welcome at our home.”

Yasmina frowns, would quietly squeeze her mom’s arm or gently kick her feet if they were close enough. The very last thing she needs is Younes back to visiting her home, her brother on the daily.

“I’ll talk to him, don’t worry.” Her mom adds, and Yasmina steals another glance at Younes, blushing, with his eyebrows as high as they can go, surprised by the news and his mom had to reassure him, right?

“I’m gonna go look for some new shampoos…” Yasmina walks away without saying goodbye, in desperate need to not be around Younes, needing to put it to good use the time away from him she has now that he’s allowed to go to her place again.

#wtfock #yasmina ait omar #younes el amrani #yasmina x younes #yousmina #is this the right tag for the ship?

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jeogiyall · 4 years

Text

Pas De Deux; H.HJ

Word Count; 9.7k

Genre; Fluff, Childhood Best Friends to Lovers, Reader X Hyunjin

Warnings; Swearing, Suggestive, I would advise against reading if you have abandonment issues? It’s brought up a few times,,

Additional; Featured Chan, Felix, Jisung, and Minho; Ballerina Reader, Dance Partner Hyunjin, Reid once again writing about something that she has no idea how to do, (Sort Of) Slow Burn

A/N; when i tell u guys that i literally have no self control,, THE ORIGINAL DRAFT OF THIS WAS 10.46K ASFDSFS someone save me from myself. i’m sorry if anything’s inaccurate, i haven’t done ballet since i was like five and most of my research is from the unreliable internet,,, so if any ballerinas read this and are repulsed i’m sorry asdfdsa. please leave something nice if you enjoy <3<3<3<3

The last time that you saw Hwang Hyunjin was in fifth grade. You were wrapped up in each other on your front porch, him choking out tears as though it hurt.

“Jinnie!” You cooed while running a hand through his short black hair, “I’m not dying, just going to boarding school!” His cries (along with the ringing guilt in your ears) only grew louder, “You’re really good at dancing, just audition next year!” He shook his head fervently against the crook of your shoulder, wet tears falling onto your skin.

“You know I suck at ballet!” If it weren’t for his palms pulling at his teary cheeks you would’ve giggled, maybe even teased him for the time in class that he almost broke his wrist while warming up at the barre. But he was crying, he was sad, and he was convinced that he’d never see you again. The sight alone was enough to make you pout, which only served to make him cry harder, “You could join my contemporary class for the summer?” He asked with starry, red eyes. It was almost enough to make you say yes.

“You know that I suck at contemporary!” The boy giggled at your counter, a sound that made your heart soar amidst all of the crying.

“Yea, you do...” He brought a hand up to his cheeks, trying desperately to wipe away tears that wouldn’t stop falling, “Just promise that you won’t forget me! I won’t forget you so you can’t forget me!” His pinky finger extended so it was nearly brushing the spot in between your eyebrows, and you were hit by the whispers of your first crush. With the summer days spent riding scooters in your driveway, and the winter ones spent sledding in it. With the long nights spent giggling about nothing underneath a blanket fort, or the endless days spent climbing trees in the bottomless woods behind the boys house. You were hit with the last five years all at once, and you knew instantly that even if he wasn’t standing in front of you with a teary face that you would still promise.

“I promise.” You answered while hooking your pinky in his as if it were a vow.

The school ended up being a perfect fit, your favorite part being the dorm room all to yourself. Even though it was small, and very ugly, it was all yours. Just like the friend group that blossomed out of your first ever co-ed class (which is sadly not a very interesting story. Han Jisung just made you swear to not dislocate his shoulders during partner stretches, and who are you to break a promise? Afterwards you received an invite to sit with him and his friend at lunch, the rest is history. Loud, annoying history.)

Nothing could’ve made it better... Well, nothing except for your sweet friend who had once occupied each thought in your head. Your sweet friend who’s summers were suddenly too full to see you, even for just a day.

Your sweet friend who didn’t keep his promise.

When it was announced that the contemporary and ballet branches of your dance institute would be merging for a year, your mind immediately jumped to Hyunjin. Despite not seeing him for almost six years. He always had such a passion for the style, making you miss out on hours of homework to watch videos of his favorite performers (it’s not like you minded too much, though.)

Han’s, on the other hand, was pure rage. Pure rage which he was letting out from your bed while watching you unpack.

“I just don’t get why they have to take a ballet class too! I have enough trouble getting solos as is.” The boy pouts while resting his head on your orange wood headboard. You’d feel sympathetic if it weren’t for the fact that he was blatantly lying, Han Jisung had gotten nearly every solo since eighth grade. Instead you roll your eyes dramatically and throw him a wadded ball of fabric from your suitcase. Naturally, he screams.

“Shut the fuck up and be helpful.” You scold, earning a childish whine while he sits up to fold the countless leotards.

“Remind me why I missed you?” He grumbles just as your other, much nicer, friend walks into the cramped room.

“Aww, you missed me Sungie?” Felix asks, voice booming deeply through the space. The two of you instantly drop the clothes in your hands and run to the boy, which you should reprimand Jisung for seeing as he just lifted a finger. But you don’t, because Felix is here with more freckles than the last time you saw him and fresh pink hair that’s definitely going to be dyed natural again within the first week.

“Yes.” The energetic boy answers while worming his way into your hug. Felix giggles softly while petting Han’s dark brown hair before pressing noisy kisses all over his cheeks. He pokes Felix’s ribs as retaliation, to which the boy screeches (directly into your ear, might I add,) and it’s back to the normal, loud chaos “I will kill you!”

“Hey! No murder in my room, if you’re gonna do that go in the hallway!” You snap playfully, pushing Jisung away while moving back into the hug, “Help me unpack? Jisung hasn’t done shit.”

“Not fair!” The boy shouts from your bed, which he’s already plopped back down on.

“I’ll help, besides do you even want him folding your clothes?” You look over your shoulder to see Jisung with his hands tangled up in three different leotards, then back to Felix with terrified eyes.

‘No,’ you mouth, eliciting another laugh from your friend. He moves over to the bed as well, then sets Jisungs hands free. The three of you talk mindlessly for hours, rambling on about Felix’s summer home and the month that you and Jisung spent traipsing around the boys hometown.

“How do you feel about the merger?” You ask suddenly, cutting Jisung off in the middle of an embarrassing story about a night spent at his house. Felix sighs deeply while tossing you the rolled leotard (your favorite one, light blue with pearls sewn around the collar,) while Jisung throws a wadded up pair of tights at your face.

“It’s fine I guess, just for a year right?” You shrug while the brunette puts on a grimace, hands suddenly very busy with folding, “They really need that rebuild, building’s falling apart. Ours is way better and we have extra room, so why not share?”

“Tell that to the rat in my mini fridge.” Han grumbles while passing you a pile of black leotards. You laugh and accept, but not before ruffling his stiff hair.

“Okay, I’ll make sure to do that the next time I’m in your room. Are you done bitching now?” The brunette pokes his tongue out at you jokingly, to which you respond with blowing a raspberry, “Felix is right, besides how terrible is it going to be? We’re all dancers right, and stuff like that is meant to be shared. Who are we to say that they can’t come and learn?” The room turns uncomfortably quiet, Jisung gnawing at his lower lip while Felix picks up his phone.

“Damn it!” The Australian exclaims as his screen lights up. You and Han look at him with furrowed eyebrows before he rolls his eyes and brings the phone up in between your faces, “Administration says I have to fix my hair.”

Han doubles over with laughter, knocking the mountain of leotards (followed shortly by himself) onto the floor. You follow his lead, and before you know it the three of you are clutching your sides and wiping away happy tears. Felix’s hands ruffle into your hair with a hum, “Maybe I can try Jisungs color, hmm?” You duck away with a snort.

“No! I draw the line at matching hair!” The brunette defends, hands moving to cover the top of his head. Felix lunges at him, fully ready to engage in a tickle fight. Naturally, Jisung screams as if he’s being murdered. It should be annoying, any other time you would find it annoying. But these are your best friends, one of which you haven’t seen in over a month, and for some odd reason your heart feels so full that it could explode.

“C’mon Lix, I’ll do your hair. What do you think about blonde?”

And even though tomorrow your school is going to be flooded with new people, and your classes full of students who have probably never done more than basic positions, in the moment it feels okay. Because one of your best friends is screaming ‘NO DON’T TOUCH MY HAIR!’ while the other assures him that ‘It’ll probably most likely be okay! Look, she did mine!’ It’s a perfect chaos that you wouldn’t trade for anything.

There have been plenty of strange coincidences in your life. Like how your first dog was named Felix, and it’s now the name of one of your best friends (who’s hair ended up looking perfectly fine, thank you very much.) Or how your usual waiter at the diner in Jisungs hometown ended up being the cousin of your first kiss. Or how your dorm room is the only one on the hall with painted walls, that just so happen to be your favorite color. Plenty of weird things, but none are as weird as this. Because you’re sitting on the floor of your second class of the day, ‘Intro To Pas De Deux,’ and Hwang Hyunjin has just entered through the side door. Two minutes late.

He’s hard to recognize at first, seeing as there’s more than an added foot of height and black hair that’s creeping down the back of his neck, but the more you look the more you recognize. Pillowy lips, full cheeks, a freckle right in the set of his eye bags. You’re not entirely sold until he laughs, a sweet and breathy sound. The laugh that’s always been three seconds away from turning into a wheeze.

“What’s wrong?” Jisung questions while pulling himself up by your hands, eyes following the line that yours draw to Hyunjin, “Do you know him or something?”

You’re about to answer when Hyunjin finally turns around, eyes scanning the room before settling on you. He thinks that you look different, too. Taller and slimmer, everything that used to be squishy replaced with soft muscle. But there’s also the bridge of your nose, your hands that are barely gripping Jisungs, and of course your eyes that are staring at him like it hurts.

“(Y/n?)” He questions, your name falling from his lips as though it’s meant to do so. You nod, mouth falling open dumbly. The boy takes a step forward then freezes.

“Is anyone going to tell me what’s going on? Or at least help me finish stretching?” Jisungs voice reeks of annoyance, you think that if you weren’t in such a state of shock that you’d flick him on the forehead.

“You go to the contemporary school?” Jisung doesn’t take well to being ignored, puffing loudly while scrambling to finish stretching at the barre. Your brain immediately flashes back to Hyunjins second ballet class in third grade, when you were teaching him your favorite warm up stretches. He ended up tangled in between the barre and the wall, which shouldn’t even be possible, but Hyunjin managed.

“Um... Yea.” Every inch of your body is screaming to stand up and engulf him in a hug, but your legs feel like jello. That, and there’s a small feeling of anger rising in your throat, “L-let me help.” He plops down in front of you before you can say yes. You don’t have to though, Hyunjin still knows that you can’t refuse him. You take his hands in yours, definitely ignoring the pink flush to his cheeks, and pull his torso towards you.

“It’s been six years.” The words come out choked, full of the pain from your first summer without him. When you’d spend hours playing out in the sun, knocking on your friends front door every morning. He was never there.

“Sorry.” You want him to show some type of emotion, let you know that he cares. That he’s actually sorry for breaking his promise, “I tried to come and see you in July but you weren’t home.”

“I was at Jisung’s house, we spend the summers together.” If you were more angry and less hurt you would say ‘now that I don’t spend them with you,’ but he’s still Hyunjin. He’s still Hyunjin, and you don’t think that you could handle the way he would frown at your snide remark.

Jisung flashes you a look from his place at the barre that reads ‘Who is this guy and why do you look so sad?’ You let Hyunjin pull you into the stretch while responding with a gaze that says ‘I’ll tell you later.’ Hyunjins grip tightens on your hands as you exhale deeply into the stretch, the light blue fabric of your leotard brushing against the dance studio floor.

“(Y/n,) I-” Maybe it’s the way that he licks his lips before talking, or the fact that he looks so much and so little like your best friend at the same time, or possibly even how you can feel the way that he hugged you at your last meeting sitting on your shoulders like a winter coat, but his hands suddenly feel like fire.

“I have to go!” You exclaim, popping up out of the stretch and onto your feet in one swift motion. The boy looks up at you with puppy dog eyes that spark a feeling so intense in you that you have to look away, “I have to go, I-I’ll um... I’ll see you around.” You dash off to the spot in front of Jisung, silently thanking every star in the sky that Hyunjin doesn’t have a chance to follow you. Because just as soon as you get up someone else sits down and begins to excitedly ask the boy questions (he’s short, with a petite frame and an unfamiliar face. Probably another transfer student.)

“Did he say something to you?” Jisung asks as you jump into your favorite warm up routine. There’s not really a right way to answer, because did he say anything just now? No, but six years ago he said that he’d never forget you. He promised as much, and then spent every moment doing nothing but that. You exhale while your feet continue to move instinctively, a slight sense of peace washing over you at the comfort of a routine.

“We should focus, class is starting soon.” Jisung whines and argues, but you just ignore him. Similarly to how you ignore Hyunjins gaze on you for the rest of the class.

Ignoring Hyunjin is much easier than you anticipated. In class you can distract yourself with Jisung before the teacher comes in, and lunch is fine enough. While he is there, sitting at a table that’s painfully close to yours, he doesn’t try to talk. Or worse, come and snatch up the free seat across from Felix. But no, he does nothing of the sort. Just laughs with his friends and shoots the occasional glance your way (the one composed of sparkly eyes and lips that are a breath away from pouting.)

But then there’s now, standing in the doorway of your stage chemistry class and Hyunjin is all that you can see. Hyunjin, standing in the center of the room and pressing play on the terribly outdated stereo. Hyunjin, running a hand through his raven black hair and inhaling deeply with closed eyes. All you wanted was to get your jacket, but now you have enough Hyunjin for a lifetime.

Loud, bass heavy music swells in the room as he starts to move. At first the movements are jerky, awkward almost. But then the music decrescendos every so softly and he exhales, then proceeds to move as if the dance is being pulled out of him. As if this choreo is the way that he was programmed to move. When the song peaks you swear that you feel tears prickling the back of your eyes, because this is so Hyunjin. The way he’s dancing with every bone in his body, the way his hair is now dripping in sweat and flying all around him, the way his plump lips suck in air. It’s Hyunjin down to the core, and you’ve missed him so much.

When the music dies you clap slowly, causing the boy to shoot up like a frightened cat. He whips around to where you stand, softening like butter when he sees your frame leaned up against the wooden door frame.

“You scared me!” He shrieks, bringing up a hand to clutch his chest. It reminds you of your last Halloween with him, when the two of you got to trick or treat alone. Hyunjin decided that it would be a great idea to go to a fear farm, in which he screeched and clung to you the entire time. It wasn’t even that scary, he’s just a baby.

“Sorry.” You answer, mouth going as dry as the desert, “You, um... You’re really good.” He laughs flatly while moving over to his dance bag to pull out a towel. You watch as he dabs the sweat away, something stupid and needy churning in your stomach. You write it off as hunger.

“Thanks, I still suck at ballet though.” It’s a joke, you know it’s a joke, but something about laughing feels wrong.

“You don’t.” You take a step into the room, wandering over to where your windbreaker is piled on the floor next to the boy, “I’ve seen you in class, and you’re not bad. Just out of practice.” He lets out another flat laugh while dropping the towel, quickly exchanging it with a water bottle.

“Yea, about nine years out of practice. I barely even remember how to do a pirouette.” He’s trying so hard to make you laugh, just like the old days. The growing tension in your shoulders and lump in your throat is preventing that from happening.

“I can teach you.” You offer while shrugging the jacket on. Within seconds he’s babbling out excuses, which you wave off, “Don’t even worry about it, I need to practice anyways.” You bend down to untie your sneakers before moving to the center of the room, Hyunjin following in quick succession, “So you obviously know the proper foot technique, pointed toes only and all of that. And the retire position is just your foot in the notch above your knee.” You demonstrate it in the mirror, and even though he’s far from being a ballerina he’s done enough classes to know that you want him to copy it, “Yea, good. It looks good.”

“Where are my shoulders supposed to be?” He asks shyly, not used to questioning such simple things.

“Back, always back. Now check that your hips aren’t tilted, I-I’ve always been told to imagine that they’re a fruit bowl.” You steal a quick glance at the boy while he’s adjusting, heart fluttering the same way that it did so many years ago, “Okay, now um... Now put your feet into fourth position, just like that yea, then bend your knees and push off from your back leg.” You do the turn, a motion so natural that it might as well be brushing your teeth, “Like that, easy peasy!” The boy scoffs while bringing up his arms the same way that you had yours just seconds ago.

“Yea, easy peasy for you!” A soft giggle falls from your lips, bouncing off the walls of the empty studio (as well as Hyunjins ears.)

“C’mon!” You tease while moving around to face him, a soft smile playing at your lips, “You see me mess up in class all of the time, just go for it. The worst that could happen is being wrong.” He nods, then exhales shakily. When he does the turn it’s a bit wobbly, but definitely not anything worse than what you’ve seen before.

“Oh my god, (Y/n) that was terrible like genuinely awful-” The words feel harsh, but he’s wearing a bright smile and laughing like there’s not a care in the world. You can’t help but laugh too.

“No, no! It was fine!” You assure through a laugh as he gets back into position. From the corner of your eye you see him mouth ‘liar,’ which earns him a harsh flick between the eyes, “Just bring your hips a little more forward like...” It’s instinctual for your hand to fall onto his hipbone, something you’ve done to Felix hundreds of times. The main difference is that when you adjust Felix he usually tells you to fuck off, then softly knees your stomach. When you do it to Hyunjin he audibly chokes and you feel fire ignite beneath your fingertips, “Like this. Now go into fourth and try again, but keep your hips aligned!” The boy nods before sinking into position and pushing up into a flawless turn.

“I did it!” He exclaims, hands flying up like he’s about to hug you, “You were right, you were right I did it!” Something about his wide, excited eyes makes every wall built around your heart crumble into dust. So you accept the hug, once again allowing yourself to fall victim to the sweetness that is Hwang Hyunjin.

“I was what, I was... Did you say right?!” He rolls his eyes at your teasing, trying desperately to pretend like he didn’t miss it. It’s useless, because the way that Hyunjin’s holding you let’s you know that he’s missed you just as much as you have him, “Alright big guy, let me go. I’ve got studying to do and shoes to break in.” He whines lowly, arms trying to grab you as you snake away.

“Can we get dinner together or something?” He begs, hand briefly tangling itself in yours. You fight down the blush rising to your cheeks while pulling your hand away and stuffing it into your pocket.

“Not tonight, you have to keep practicing those pirouettes! But don’t worry, you’ll be seeing more of me... Partner.” Hyunjin smiles widely at your words, realization settling in as quickly as they leave your mouth.

“Do you mean...?”

“Yes,” You exhale, mentally preparing for another bone crushing hug, “I’ll be your partner for class.”

Hyunjins hug is almost nice enough that you forget about how annoying Jisung’s going to be when you tell him.

It turns out that the friends Hyunjin made are almost as amazing as the ones that you did. Everyone was a little awkward when the two groups first merged, specifically Jisung who was still butt hurt about you switching partners. But then Felix got to talking with Chan (the person who’s been mothering your friend ever since he started at the contemporary institute. From the way they talk, Hyunjin would’ve both starved and failed if it weren’t for the older boy,) and suddenly everyone was meeting in your room on Fridays for a weekly game of uno.

“Absolutely not, you’re fucking cheating!” Minho (the other new face from your stage chemistry class,) shouts while pointing a finger across the card pile and into Jisungs face. The boy moves to jokingly bite at it, causing Chan’s eyes to go as wide as the moon.

“No, no, no! No murder, and no biting what the hell!” You snort at your new friends bewildered expression while passing a canned sparkling water to Hyunjin. He accepts with a smile before mouthing ‘they’re insane!’ Felix sees and proceeds to nail him in the face with your favorite throw pillow.

“Says the guy who sleeps in socks-” Hyunjin throws the pillow back harshly, causing Chan to damn near pass out. It’s all that you can do to not roll over with laughter.

“My feet get cold.” He grumbles with a pout that makes both you and Minho coo from your spots beside the boy.

“Okay, okay, Minho just pick up the cards and let’s keep going? I’m about to finish!” The boy grumbles angrily, all ‘stupid card game’ and ‘I don’t wanna pick up twenty cards!’ You lock eyes with Chan from across the card pile, taking brief solace in the presence of someone else with a functioning brain.

“So we all know that (Y/n’)s about to win, and that she’s my best friend and favorite duet partner,” Everyone answers him with an immediate ‘rude,’ which makes a girlish giggle bubble up in your throat, “which is why it makes me so terribly sad to do this.” You watch closely as he dramatically pulls a card from his hand then places it on top of the deck, a fat draw four staring you straight in the eyes. Everyone goes silent while watching your face fall drastically.

“Hwang Hyunjin, I am going to-” The room bursts into chaos before you even finish the sentence. In the end there are about twelve fresh bruises, six entirely hoarse sets of vocal chords, and one demolished dorm room. Just a normal Friday night.

Except for the way that your heart stutters when Hyunjin mouths a simple ‘love you’ over the bustling group. That’s not normal, but you think that you like it.

“Hyunjin, if you keep your hands there I’m going to fall.” You say to your duet partner, whose hands are wandering aimlessly up your torso. They’re supposed to be on your hips, serving as an anchor for your body while it dips towards the ground.

“Sorry, sorry.” The boy mumbles, not entirely meaning it. It’s impossible to be sorry when he can physically feel your heart speed up beneath his hands.

“Try to sound just a little bit less convincing next time, okay?” You shimmy slightly in a futile attempt to move his hands, which only makes him laugh brightly. If it weren’t for your less than ideal position (halfway bent into a split with every ounce of your weight balanced on the tips of your toes,) you would hit him.

“Do you want me to drop you, because I can drop you if it’s what you want-” The teacher snaps her fingers, pulling everyone’s attention out of the various warm up routines and to the front of the room. Hyunjins hands pull away from your torso so quickly that it burns.

“No dropping dance partners on purpose, that’s the first rule of building stage chemistry.” She chastises, eyes brushing briefly over your friend which causes him to turn thirty shades of pink. You giggle quietly to yourself before sticking your tongue out at him, “But of course, you can’t truly start to build a connection until there’s material. So that’s what we’re doing today, I’ve assigned each group with a pas de deux, or ‘dance for two’. Whoever I think shows the most promise within the next week will be given the opportunity to enter in the regional competition.” She says opportunity, but the stern tone of her voice means that whoever she picks will definitely have to do the competition.

Everyone floods to the front of the class before she even finishes, Hyunjin moving to do so as well before you quickly grip his wrist.

“She didn’t say to go yet, and if we want to qualify for that competition we’re going to have to start kissing up now.” You keep your face forward, chin up and shoulders back, but even then you can feel Hyunjins smile, “What?!”

“You want to do the competition?” He sounds hopeful, nearly childlike.

“Of course! That’s like half the reason I go to school here, the competitive atmosphere.” People are starting to settle back into place, your teacher wearing a look of utter annoyance. Hyunjin doesn’t seem to notice, seeing as his mouth keeps moving.

“I’ve only known how to do a pirouette for a month, and I still can’t really get my double. You’d have a better chance with Han, or-” As soon as the teachers back is turned you whip around to your babbling partner, hands planted firmly on his broad shoulders. It takes a second for his eyes to meet yours, but when they do he nearly melts.

“I don’t want to do it with anyone else, I want to do it with you. And just because your double isn’t perfect doesn’t mean that it’s not good so stop stressing.” He looks down for a second, cheeks growing as pink as your shoes. By force of habit you hook a hand beneath the boys chin and force him to look at you, “I mean it.” He swallows harshly, then nods. With a sigh you let go of the boy and return to your previous (assigned) position. Just in time too, seeing as the teacher turns around right as you settle next to the boy.

“You may check your assignments at the end of class, if you haven’t done so already.” You flash a knowing glance to Hyunjin, almost as if to say ‘I told you so.’ He knows better than to argue.

At the end of class you go up to look with Jisung while Hyunjin gathers your things for you, the short brunette babbling excitedly about the previously mentioned regional’s.

“I thought that you don’t do partner work?” You tease lightly while ducking down to look at the list.

“I don’t, but neither does my partner! So we’ll just be okay at...” He bends next to, head full of brown hair hitting you straight in the eyes, “Romeo and Juliet?” You bite down a laugh while pushing the boy away.

“Don’t try to fight it, you’re such a Romeo. Just like I am such a... Lise!” The boys face contorts with jealousy as he ducks back down, once again knocking your heads together.

“You guys got La Fille mal gardee? And the ribbon dance?!” You giggle back a small yes while pinching the boys frowning cheeks, “No fair! Absolutely no fair, I have to do stupid Romeo and Juliet and you got my favorite ballet, no fair!”

“It’s my favorite too!” You defend, which ends up being pointless because both Hyunjin and Jisung chorus back with ‘not true!’

“Your favorite is swan lake.” Hyunjin states while sliding your dance bag onto your shoulder. Maybe it’s the fondness in his action, or the way that he named off your favorite ballet as though it was a fact ingrained into his brain, but your heart swells so large that you swear it could pop like a balloon.

“Okay,” you exhale, hand moving to the spot where his fingers were ghosting just seconds ago, “one of my favorites.”

At your first rehearsal for regionals you and Hyunjin are given the ribbon to use, seeing as it’s literally the ribbon dance. Practicing without it was honestly getting awkward, which is unfortunate seeing as the boy nearly got it taken away within minutes.

“Look (Y/n,) I’m a present!” He had exclaimed, causing you to whip around to the sight of your partner with a pink silk bow tied around his chin.

“Oh no, Hyunjin!” You whispered through a quiet laugh, moving towards him to untie it, “You are so ridiculous!”

“What? Am I not a gift?” He pouted while trying to pull your hands away, which earned him nothing but a harsh smack on the wrist. You slipped it off his face and behind your back just as the teacher walked in the door to give the ‘your ribbon is not a toy,’ talk.

At the second you describe the plot of La Fille mal Gardee, which proves to be slightly (read: very confusing.)

“Wait wait wait, she doesn’t even like the other guy?!” He asks while shaking his head cutely, black hair bouncing along with the motion. If it gets any longer he’s going to have to start putting it up.

“Nope, not one bit.” His eyebrows furrow as he starts to grumble ‘this is kind of stupid,’ earning a giggle and a push to the shoulder, “No it isn’t! It’s funny, and sweet! I really relate to Lise and her... Character arch I guess.”

“Isn’t she the girl who needed guarding or something like that?” His tilts to the side, teeth catching ever so slightly on his puffy pink lips.

“Yea,” You exhale with a quickening heart rate, “something like that.” There’s silence for a minute, nothing but Hyunjin shaking his head and sighing softly.

“That’s not you. No one needs to guard you.” For some reason your brain flashes back to the third summer alone (that awkward stage where you were too old to make new friends and too young to go see Jisung,) when you spent everyday walking through the woods alone. Sometimes you would just walk until the sun went down and your only company was the stars, but most days you would find a new place to sit down and hum out the motifs of your favorite ballets, “No one.”

For a moment you think that he’s right.

The fourth rehearsal (exactly one week after the first) is when you get to a stage kiss in the choreography, your teacher describing the motions along with a recording that’s projecting on the back wall. It starts with the boy pulling in the girl by the ribbon, then swooping down to meet her lips with a smile. Then she twirls away, leaving your skin hot and crawling.

“We’re um... A-are we gonna do that?” Hyunjin asks through a whisper, leaning close enough that you can feel his breath. It’s warm and smells like spearmint.

“We’ll know when we get there I guess, now pay attention!” You push his face away from yours and back to the projection, watching as the couple wraps each other up in the silky ribbon.

When you do finally get there an hour later he looks so nervous that he could puke. Your teacher shouts out the next move, ‘kiss and then twirl away,’ which only adds to the painful drumming of your heart.

“It’s okay, (Y/n,) you don’t have to.” His voice is low, hushed. Almost like he doesn’t want anyone else to hear.

“No, no! It’s okay, I’ll just...” You lean forward as much as you can with the ribbon hugging your waist and press a feather light kiss onto the tip of his nose. The teacher coos, maybe even praises the two of you on the developing stage chemistry. You don’t hear it. You don’t hear anything over the erratic beating of your heart, “I’ll just do that, okay?” He swallows dryly, eyes flashing quickly down to your lips then back up to your sweet gaze.

“Y-yea, perfect.” There’s something building up in the space between your bodies, so thick that you could spread it over toast, “You should twirl away, right?” You nod, wanting desperately to stay. To kiss him in an earth shattering way.

A part of you thinks that you shouldn’t. That Hyunjin has the power to ruin every part of you, and that wanting to give that to him after your hearts already been broken is foolish. But you do, you want to. Because loving Hyunjin feels good enough that the pain doesn’t matter.

After the fifth rehearsal the two of you feel as though you’ve torn every muscle in your body. Your teacher decided within the first twelve minutes that the two of you would benefit from some conditioning, which resulted in you and Hyunjin holding side by side planks (as well as other terrible positions) and muttering curses for a solid hour.

“I’m gonna collapse.” Hyunjin whines, plopping down onto the hardwood floor beside his dance bag. Something that’s probably supposed to be a laugh falls out of your mouth before you pull the water bottle from your bag.

“At least you haven’t been wearing pointe shoes all day.” You groan while moving the bottle to your mouth. A mouthful of water slides down your throat right as the boys face twists into one of horror.

“Oh gosh, oh no I’m so sorry!” You try to wave the black haired boy away, which only makes him feel worse, “No, no! I wanna help let me umm... Come back to my room? I can set up a foot bath with...”

“Epsom salts.” You answer after swallowing another swig of water, “But I have all of the stuff in my room, I can take care of it.” Hyunjin whines again while rolling over onto his stomach and pushing himself into a sitting position. There’s a bead of sweat dripping down the bridge of his nose, something that you shouldn’t focus on. It catches on the tip before falling delicately onto his collar bone.

“I wanna take care of it,” It feels like all of the air has been sucked out of the room, “just... Here, wear my jacket into the building so no one can see that you’re uh... A girl.” You try to argue again, but then your cheeks are squished in between his hand and his eyebrows are furrowed just enough for it to be cute, “Let me take care of you.”

And really, how could you say no to that?

“Hwang Hyunjin, you are my favorite person in the world.” You sigh, feet dipping into the warm cloudy water. He plops down next to you with a laugh and arms full of snacks.

“Can I get that in writing? You know, just to prove it to Jisung.” Laughter bounces off of his dorm walls, filling the boys brain with childhood memories. Like the time that you two were riding scooters in your driveway and just as the sun started to set you skinned your knee. Hyunjin had thought for a minute that the shaking of your shoulders was sobbing, but quickly discovered by a tilt of your chin and hands wrapped around your sides that you were indeed laughing. Beautiful, clear laughter complete with sunshine dripping from your skin. It was the first time he can remember thinking that someone was beautiful.

“Yes!” You exclaim, effectively pulling the boy from his memory, “But only if you give me food.” He giggles tiredly, a sound so sweet that it might as well be honey, and tosses a bag of pita chips your way.

“You don’t even have to ask.”

You’re supposed to go back to your dorm at eleven, thirty minutes after arrival. But then Hyunjin starts talking about anything and everything, ranging from how he met Minho to the old building of his school. The way he chuckles sleepily while reminiscing on water logged ceilings is enough to make you melt.

Somehow your head ends up pulled against his chest, rising and falling with his breaths. There’s an arm tied around your waist like ribbon, lips softly brushing your hairline as he mumbles endlessly about everything, your leg across his lap as though they’re supposed to be.

“What time’s it?” You slur, clenching onto the fabric of his shirt. It smells like spice and fresh pine and Hyunjin. So much like Hyunjin.

“Midnight.” You think to yourself that it’s time to leave, that if any of the staff found out about this you’d be dead. You also think that Hyunjin smells like fresh pine and that he’s holding you in a way that you’ve never been held.

The sound of his even breathing and the weight of his arms on you lulls you to sleep in a matter of minutes.

When you wake up it’s to the obnoxious blaring of Hyunjins alarm. The boy whines lowly before punching it into snooze. It’s enough to make you laugh, then pull your head away from the cradle of his chin.

“C’mon sleepy, it’s time to get up. What do you have for breakfast?” If it weren’t for your hair tickling his cheek or the way your torso writhes beneath his arm he would be annoyed by your chirping voice. After the hundreds of early mornings school has thrown your way you can’t really help but be a morning person.

“More sleep, that’s what I have.” He grumbles as you crack the curtains open, trying desperately to pull the comforter over his eyes.

“You need food to fuel your body Hyunjin-” Before you can finish lecturing him an arm shoots up from beneath the gray blanket, crashing your body onto his with a sleepy groan.

“M’ just kidding.” He pulls you under the blanket with him, mimicking the first time he spent the night at your house. You two stayed up until the sun was rising, hidden away from the world by the fluffy pink comforter of your childhood bedroom, “Protein bars are in the closet and apples’r on top of the mini fridge.

It’d be so easy to skip classes and stay here all day, not a care in the world besides the sweet boy that you’re currently tangled in. A part of you wants to melt away and give in, but a bigger part knows that doing that is a commitment. Like saying that you’re his to hold and break however he pleases. It’s the scariest thought that you’ve had in months.

“W-we should get going. Yea?” The words sound like you’ve been choking on them. A fact that Hyunjin takes notice of, eyes growing sad and attentive as his arms wiggle away from your waist.

“Yea, yea. Minho will be here in ten minutes, we walk to pas de deux together.” Before you can help it your expression turns panicked, eyebrows shooting up as your jaw drops open, “Sorry! He’s not gonna tell anyone or anything I promise!” Something clenches in your chest at the sight of him sitting up in bed, black hair sticking up every way that it can.

“I know he won’t, it’s just...” You look down at your body, clothed with Hyunjins sweatshirt and a pair of his long socks (turns out that he was onto something with the whole ‘sleeping in socks’ thing,) “I don’t want him to get the wrong idea.” His gaze shoots up to meet yours, so soft and relaxed that you could cry.

“Which would be?” There’s a pounding in your ears that’s quickly recognizable as a heartbeat.

“That we’re together.” It’s barely above a whisper, but Hyunjin hears you loud and clear. From the light tremble to the breathy finish, he hears you.

“We could be, if that’s what you want.” He puts a hand on your shoulder, an action familiar enough that it’s normal yet tender enough that your cheeks are flushing pink, “Is that what you want?”

“I-I, um...” Your heart is screaming yes, that you want to be his and only his. That while you aren’t a girl who needs to be guarded, you are a girl who wants to be guarded. Guarded from everything by Hyunjins thin comforter and strong arms.

But then you think about the promise that Hyunjin broke. The promise that he wouldn’t forget you, and then broke less than twenty-four hours later. You think about how badly you’ve wanted to spend the last day of summer with him every year since. Your mouth opens right as a knock sounds against his door, “Can we talk about this later?” Hyunjin nods lightly while getting up to grab two apples off of the top of the mini fridge.

“I’m so sorry for however he reacts.” The boy groans under his breath, offering you a light green apple along with an apologetic smile. You accept, smiling back before popping out of bed to pull your dance bag over your shoulder.

“It can’t be that bad, Minho’s level headed.” If it weren’t for the fact that Hyunjin still has a question lodged in his throat he would’ve laughed.

You’re the one who finally opens the door, interrupting Minho mid-knock. At first he looks aggravated, ready to launch into a long speech about how ‘timeliness is important’ and ‘you always fucking make us late’ but when his eyes meet you his jaw goes slack.

“What the f-”

If the sound of Minho screeching wasn’t telling enough, you were very very wrong.

The next four days are spent dancing around Hyunjins burning question, constantly talking about anything else or switching the topic when it seems like he might bring it up. At first he barely notices, simply assuming that you need time to mull it over, but then Jisung and Chan sit in on a lunchtime rehearsal.

The dance is coming along perfectly, so much so that the boys don’t even notice your hesitations. Hyunjin sees it though. Sees the way that your hands tremble before planting on his shoulders, the way that your face looks sad after pressing the soft kiss onto his nose. While he hasn’t seen you dance as much as Jisung or Felix probably have, he’s still seen enough to know that you’re never like this. Never uncertain.

“What was that about?” The boy asks after the rehearsal, hands crossed against his chest. You’re going to ignore him, focus on nothing other than getting out of your pointe shoes and off to your next class, but then his dark brown eyes catch on yours, “Seriously!”

“What are you talking about?” You respond, fingers working quickly to undo the ribbons around your ankles. A sigh leaves your mouth as one shoe slips off and into your bag, quickly moving to the other one before Hyunjin can continue the questioning.

Turns out that your friend is terrible at picking up on social cues.

“Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about.” Your head is briefly pulled up from the floor as his voice grows impossibly soft, your heartbeat faltering ever so slightly. There’s a quiet goodbye as Jisung and Chan leave the studio, “Y-you scared me.”

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, throwing the second shoe into your bag while a lump takes form in your throat. If he wasn’t your best friend then he would think that you’re just tired, or hungry, or anything other than deflecting. But he is your best friend, who knows that being tired or hungry only makes you sad. Your best friend who knows that you’re deflecting harder than you ever have before.

“It’s okay, just tell me. Please.” His last word is so hushed that you can barely hear it, but it’s there. Light, and airy, and perfectly there, “Is this about what I asked?” Before you can help you’re nodding, once again giving this boy every part of you that can break.

“Yea, kind of.” It feels like your mouth is full of cotton, leaving you uncomfortably hot along with speechless. A loud sigh rings through the studio as Hyunjin slides down to meet your height, hands burying into his raven black hair. The sight takes you back to the last day of fifth grade; you and him holding each other on your front porch as if the world was ending, your hands tangled into his hair.

“Is it because you don’t want to?” There’s his eyes on yours, your chest heaving, and nothing else in the entire universe. Just (Y/n,) the girl who wants to be guarded, and Hyunjin, (Y/n’)s beloved.

“No.”

“Then why didn’t you say yes?” Right now feels like when you’re at a competition, in the middle of a variation that’s been giving you hell since you started working on it. It’s seconds before the hardest part, the one that you’re still not sure of. It’s the adrenaline rushing through your veins and the words ‘now or never’ echoing with each timed exhale.

“Because. How do I know that you won’t forget about me when summer comes?” Your words hit him like a punch to the gut, causing his lips to part and then heave for air.

“I-I never forgot about you.”

“Yes you did!” There are tears prickling the back of your eyelids, which you quickly blink away before continuing, “I waited for you outside your house every day! And then, when you wouldn’t show up, I-I’d spend every day alone. Doing what we used to do together, but by myself! I was all by myself and I missed you so much, Jinnie. So, so much.” He’s going to tell you that you’re wrong. That while all of those things happened, he never ever forgot about you.

But then there’s that old nickname, the one reserved specifically for family and you. He hasn’t heard it in months, and when he finally does it’s rolling out of your mouth like a plea soaked in honey. Something that’s going to stick with him for forever.

“(Y/n,) please-” You’re up and out of the door before he can even finish.

It’s a dreary Friday morning, rain trickling down your window and painting your room a gray shade of blue. With a deep inhale you realize that everything is finally smelling like fall, which only solidifies the fact that you never want to get out of bed. Unfortunately you have a class in half an hour that you do kind of need to go to.

But it’s not too terrible. Maybe if you were getting up to go take a math class, or run a marathon, but you aren’t. You’re getting up to go to ballet class, and you can wear your favorite leotard again (the light blue one, with pearls sewn around the collar,) and the rain outside is heavy enough to be calming but light enough that you can fend it off with an umbrella. The only thing that could make this morning any better is your favorite childhood breakfast, honey nut cheerios with strawberry milk.

Which is, oddly enough, sitting outside of your door when you open it to head off to the dining hall. A gallon sized jug of bright pink milk next to a family size box of your favorite cereal, just sitting in the middle of the hallway with a folded piece of paper resting precariously on top. Something about this has Hyunjin written all over it. You lean down to pick up the note, reading it about a thousand times over before rushing back into your room to wolf down the breakfast that you haven’t had in months.

‘(Y/n,)

I never forgot you.

Come to my room tonight after rehearsal. Please.

Sincerely, Hyunjin.’

When you two do the first full run through of the pas de deux that night he holds you extra tight. Maybe because he misses you. Maybe because he thinks that after tonight he’ll never have the chance to do so again.

But when he opens the door to his dorm room you see pink fluffy blankets folded on his bed. On top of them is a basket, filled to the brim with every last one of your favorite things. Strawberries dipped in chocolate like the ones your mother would make on hot summer nights, snickers bars like the ones that you two would share after days spent in your driveway, glass bottled lemonade like you would buy from the stand up the street.

“I may or may not have also bought your favorite movie. Well, if it’s still Barbie And the Twelve Dancing Princesses.” A giggle sounds through the room, bouncing around the walls and then back onto Hyunjins burning cheeks.

“It is, but don’t tell Jisung!” Rain starts to fall again, the soft pitter patter mixing perfectly with the boys soft laugh. His hand grazes briefly against the small of your back as he starts to guide you into the tight room, “I’m serious! Him and Lix will make fun of me!” The pout on your face is enough to melt anyone’s heart, which is why Hyunjin doesn’t even think twice when his knees go weak as jelly.

“My lips are sealed.” He says, walking over the boxy tv (that certainly wasn’t there last week) on his desk and inserting the disc, “Now sit back and enjoy.”

It’s not a hard request to fill, your tired body sinking immediately into the fluffy blankets and mouth watering each time you bite down on a strawberry. Rain continues to patter softly against the window, the sound occasionally being replaced by a loud roll of thunder which makes the boy next to you jump. You had laughed at the action, asking softly if he was scared. It was a rhetorical question, you know fully well that he’s always been scared of thunder.

“No! Yes, shut up.” And if you mind that the boy cuddles softly into your side, one arm wrapped around the curve of your waist while the other holds a chocolate strawberry, you don’t say so.

The two of you stay tangled up in each other like that until the credits roll, Hyunjins breathy sigh hitting your cheek as he shifts to get up. You watch with heartfelt eyes as he crosses the dimly lit room, his black hair briefly sweeping across his eyes. You want to reach up and push it away, but right as you manage to sit up straight he’s done with it and headed back to the bed. With a short laugh you realize that your noses are touching.

“Hi.” The word comes at as a short exhale, leaving a taste on your tongue that’s sweeter than chocolate strawberries.

“Hey.” Your heart flutters at the sound, an exhale laced together with a smile, as his arms return to their previous spot around your waist. There’s probably nothing in the world brighter than the smile he wears for you. Stage lights, the sun, every last star in the sky rolled into one. None of it even comes close to the way that his pink lips stretch perfectly from cheek to cheek, “Do you finally believe me?” He brings up a hand to caress your cheek gently, as though to rub away tears that haven’t fallen.

“Believe wh-”

“Do you believe that I never forgot you? That I never forgot any of you, not even the little things like your favorite color or what you liked to eat for dinner. Maybe I pulled away, but I think it’s because even then I knew how badly losing you would hurt. I-I knew that I never wanted to lose you, which is just what I did...” He swallows harshly, tongue darting out to wet his lower lip, “But I’ll never do it again. I’ll never lose you, and I’ll never forget you a-and... And I don’t want to remember you anymore, (Y/n.) I’m so done with remembering, let’s just be.” There’s something stuck in your throat, but it doesn’t hurt the way that tears do. No, this is a release gathering inside of you. One that’s waiting for you to finally give in.

“Hyunjin,” His fingers cradle the curve of your jaw, sending goosebumps down every inch of your body, “kiss me.” And that’s all the confirmation he needs to brush his lips over yours.

At first it’s gentle, almost questioning. Like he’s asking one last time ‘Is this okay?’ But then your hands tangle in his black hair, the way that they’ve been aching to since you first saw him, and he knows that you’re okay. More than okay, you’re in love. With every muscle in your body, you’re in love.

Hyunjin’s hand that was previously holding your face drops back down to your waist and pulls you in softly. They then travel down to your thighs, eliciting a soft gasp from your lips before he picks you up and guides you onto the bed. Every movement is so perfect yet raw, feeling like the stuff of ballets. Until your back hits an unopened glass bottle of lemonade, that is. The sudden cold is enough to make you jump.

“What?!” Hyunjin questions, eyes shooting as wide as saucers, “Did I hurt you?!” A laugh sounds through the room while your hand detaches from his hair, opting instead to reach around your body and remove the glass bottle that’s poking you in the least conventional way possible.

“No.” You answer through soft giggles, bringing up the bottle to lightly tap his forehead, “There’s just a lemonade poking me in the ass.”

He flushes bright pink before answering with a tiny ‘oh’ and burying his face into the crook of your neck. If you were less malleable you would’ve teased him even more, but then there are warm kisses on your skin and nothing in your head.

“I love you.” He whispers, head slowly moving until his lips are against your jaw. You’re going to answer, really, but then there are soft lips on your chin and a smile ripping through your body, “I love you.”

“M-me too.” You stammer dumbly, body going entirely limp as he (finally) presses another kiss onto your lips. The boy pulls away entirely too soon, but it’s okay. There’s something that you need to finish saying, anyways, “I love you too, Jinnie.”

When you fall asleep that night it’s to the sound of pattering rain, with Hyunjins arms guarding you from the world.

The bus back from regionals is quiet, the few sounds that do come about being Chan and Felix whispering softly or Minho giggling at Jisung snoring. You’re about there too, but who can blame you when Hyunjins hands are buried in your hair (which is both stiff and wavy from a combination of hairspray and braided buns.) If you close your eyes and focus really hard you can even feel the rise and fall of his chest where it’s connected with your back.

“Who’s gonna keep our trophy?” The boy questions, lips moving softly against the shell of your ear. It generates a warm feeling in your gut, one that spreads quickly to your cheeks and ears.

“We’ll trade it off on the weekends. Like divorced soccer parents.” He giggles softly, moving forward to kiss your temple.

“Are you trying to tell me something?” If you were a little bit less tired, or a little bit less in love, then maybe you’d joke back. But you’re wrapped up in him like a ribbon on your waist, foot nudging against a plastic first place trophy while his lips move against you in a way that you could get drunk off of.

“Never.” You answer, hand coming up to wrap around his as if it were a vow, “Never.”

#hwang hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin angst #writekpop #admin reid #han jisung #lee felix #bang chan #lee know #stray kids #stray kids fluff #stray kids x reader #this might be one of my favorites yet... i really loved writing all of them #and researching!!

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