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streamafterlaughter · 2 years

Text

New Kid

Chapter V: Lazy Sunday

MASTERLIST || chapter IV || playlist

summary: Eddie slept over last night, and you two plan to spend the day together, one good day this weekend where things don’t go horribly wrong

tags: eddie munson x reader, afab!nb!gn!reader, MORE ANGST, fluff, teasing, flirty eddie, mutual pining, smut tease (minors DNI), possible secondhand embarrassment warning lol, shared trauma, weed (assume all chapters have weed involved)

a/n: IM SORRY FOR ALL THE TEASING i love that pre dating butterflies shit okay i’m sorry!! Disclaimer: I do not give permission to have my work reposted on other sites. Reblogs are more than welcome, but please inform me if you find my work elsewhere unless otherwise stated. now for the fun part ;)

Eddie’s POV

I definitely could have kissed them then, Eddie kicks himself for not making a move. Your lips were right there! Less than an inch away! But, they also could have kissed me…

You exit the bathroom, wearing a baggy Looney Tunes shirt, and once again no pants. It’s like you’re trying to kill him. He’d be happy to go though, if it meant the last thing he got to see was you. You crawl back into your spot on the bed, cocooning yourself in your many blankets. Eddie does the same, his feet brushing yours briefly. It isn’t late, and Eddie isn’t the least bit tired. He doesn’t want to sleep, fearing all the minutes he’d miss where he could be talking to you instead. “I had a lot of fun today.” He finally says, lying on his side to face you.

“Me too. It seems we’re cursed to have wonderful days end in fire, though.” It’s dramatic, but the only two days the two of you have been together have both ended less than amicably. He’d do it again and again if it meant he got to spend his days with you.

“Psh, serves us right, worshiping the devil and all.” He makes you laugh, and he wants to record it, play a tape of it on loop forever. Without thinking, Eddie reaches a hand up to your face, tucking a stray hair behind your ear before resting his palm on your cheek. He feels you warm under his touch, watching your eyes close as your mouth curls into a smile. He’s about to move his hand when you turn your face into his palm, kissing the heel of his hand. Eddie’s stomach flips as your kiss sends goosebumps up his arm. Eventually, you both fall asleep like that, breathing in unison.You don’t wake up screaming this time.

—

Your POV

Today, you wake up first. Sundays always make you sad, signifying the end of your weekend, a day for finishing homework and cramming for midterms before all your tests this week. You open your eyes slowly, squinting at the sunlight coming through your window. Your back is to Eddie, and you feel his arm wrapped around your waist, his breathing even. It’s the most comfortable you’ve let yourself be with someone, despite neither of you being capable of telling the other.

You don’t want to wake him, but you feel your stomach rumble, a lack of lasagna in your stomach.

You turn around slowly, sure to keep his arm in place around you. He’s sound asleep, his lips slightly parted, face peaceful. You could watch him sleep all day if it weren't for your stomach slowly eating itself from hunger.

Finally, Eddie shifts onto his back, his arm abandoning you in the process. He stretches it above his head, opening his eyes and immediately meeting your gaze. “Good morning.” He says, a tired rasp in his voice.

“Good morning. How’d you sleep?”

“Like a log. So did you, it seems?”

“Yeah, through the whole night and everything.” Thank god, you think, you’re not sure what you would’ve done if you’d woken Eddie up screaming again.

“You talk in your sleep.” Eddie says, shifting into a sitting position.

“You’re lying.” No he’s not, you know you do. It’s usually something completely irrelevant, but that doesn’t stop the fear of not knowing what you said with Eddie in your bed.

“I’m not! It was cute.”

“What did I say?”

“A lot, most of it nonsense. Something about lemurs at one point.” Relief floods through you, grateful you didn’t out yourself in your sleep. “You said I was extremely sexy.”

A lump forms in your throat, your mouth is suddenly dry, while the rest of your face breaks into a sweat. You blink rapidly, attempting to free the tears welling in your eyes. He looks at you closely, as if studying your reaction, before letting go a sudden cackle. “I’m kidding!”

You release the breath you didn’t know you were holding, and nervously laugh with him. “You’re awful!” You accuse, swinging your feet onto the floor. “I’m gonna take a shower, you feel like going to breakfast?”

“Sure you’re not sick of me yet?”

“There is nothing to get sick of.”

“Psh, whatever, go shower, I’ll be here, and totally not thinking about you in there.” You snap your head to look at him.

Eddie reaches over to your bedside table, picking up your beaten copy of The Bell Jar. He opens it to the first page before glancing up at you, frozen in place while you process what just came out of his mouth.

Eddie doesn’t explain himself, but lifts his hand and shoos you away. You don’t know what to say, what the fuck could you say?! You stumble into the bathroom, clicking the lock behind you.

—

Eddie’s POV

He pushes your comforter off of him, revealing the tent in his briefs. Shit, I guess I took my own joke too seriously. He should probably take care of it before you come out, because seeing you dripping from the shower definitely won't help. Being the genius that he is, he knows not to go to town on himself in your bed. It would make a mess, and with his luck you’d catch him jerking it and never look at him again.

Instead, Eddie slowly gets off your bed, lighter on his feet than any ballerina to ever exist. He tiptoes to the bedroom door, locks it, then gently sits on the floor in front of the bathroom. This way, he thinks in his horny boy brain, he’ll be able to hear you turn the water off.

Eddie breathes deeply, making sure he can hear the water behind the door. Sure enough, the spray of the water is clear as day. Underneath it, he can even hear you singing Hit Me With Your Best Shot at almost full volume. He decides it’ll be a silent session, knowing the thinness of the walls works both ways.

He works quickly, feeling the ache in his groin grow stronger with the sound of your voice so close. He pulls his underwear down just enough to free his dick from the confines. He spits in his hand, slightly disgusted with his desperate need for relief. He banishes the thought from his mind, grabbing at his cock with his now slick hand. He grips it securely, moving his fist rapidly to the sound of your voice.

He lets his mind wander, closing his eyes as the feeble attempt at release continues. He pictures you as you must be, completely naked, under hot, running water. You’re covered in a soapy lather, smoothing it into your skin. He pictures himself with you, undressing himself before entering the shower, hugging your naked body to his as the water bathes you both. He pictures kneeling before you, taking you in his mouth while your hands knot in his hair. He envisions detaching your shower head, bringing it to your clit to watch you squirm while he busies himself kissing your neck. Desperately, he imagines bending you over, fucking you while the water hits your back, while you fight to keep your footing as he makes you come against the tile.

His thoughts escape him, growing less and less appropriate as he brings himself to climax. He shoots his load into his hand while groaning quietly, and immediately wipes it on the inside of his shirt.

—

Your POV (occurring simultaneously with Eddie’s)

You try to steady yourself, looking at your reflection in the small bathroom mirror, taking deep breaths. Thinking about me? In here? Is he serious? He can’t be serious. You go around like this for a good two minutes, justifying his words to yourself. Finally, you decide to relieve yourself of some stress. You’ve earned it after spending the entire weekend with Eddie and not jumping his bones.

You shed your clothes, dropping them in the hamper beside the sink. You wait for the water to warm, singing Pat Benatar’s Hit Me With Your Best Shot, a go to showering tune. Once in the tub, you free your hands to roam your body, reaching your fingers between your legs to feel the wetness that had accumulated long before showering. You lean against the cold tile, bringing your middle finger to play with your clit, rubbing eager circles, letting your imagination run wild.

You imagine Eddie in your bed, reading your book. You picture exiting the bathroom, forfeiting the towel as soon as he looks from the book to you. You stroll over to him, still dripping wet from the shower, completely naked, and crawl on top of him. Because it’s your daydream, of course he welcomes you, taking you by the waist and sitting you on his lap. You can almost feel his hard cock under you, and you stifle a moan into your shoulder, hoping Eddie can’t hear you sinning from the bed. The daydream continues until you've grown desperate, yanking your shower head from the wall and bringing it between your legs. Finally, your knees shake as you orgasm, thinking of Eddie’s head between your thighs as you do. Once you compose yourself, you shut the water off, feeling somehow much dirtier than when you got in.

—

Eddie’s POV

Eddie scrambles from his spot on the floor when he hears the water turn off. He grabs his jeans and pulls them on, jumping as he struggles to get them over his sweaty legs. He turns around to find you, wrapped only in a towel, watching as he fumbles for his belt.

“I uh, forgot my clothes.” You say, not meeting his eyes. He cant help but feel flattered by your flustered reaction. There may be hope for him yet.

“Who needs ‘em.” He lets himself flirt with you, accepting that if you wanted him to stop, you’d tell him.

You hide your face from him, not willing to let him know his comment makes your stomach flip “Uh, we do, if we’re going to breakfast.” You pull a U2 shirt your dad got you when he saw them live, and a pair of acid wash distressed jeans. You throw a second shirt, a Blondie one you bought too big, at his chest. “For your modesty.” You laugh as he looks at Debbie Harry’s face, then back to yours.

“Seriously?”

“You’re the one with their tape in your car!” Before he can argue, you skip back to the bathroom to change, and probably splash some cold water on your face.

When you come back, he’s put the shirt on, and it hugs his chest and arms with just enough give that it accentuates his lean figure without looking too tight. “Looks good.” You mean it, and he thanks you with a stupid grin.

—

Your POV

“C’mon, I’ll drive!” You shout, scooping your keys from the hook at the front door. “Bye, parents!” You call, running out the door with Eddie right on your heels. In the car, you plug in your Judas Priest tape, something you only remembered you had seeing the poster on Eddie’s wall. Eddie busts out his best air guitar to Breaking the Law, and you chime in with the best metal rasp you can muster. There I was completely wasting, out of work and down All inside it’s so frustrating as I drift from town to town, Feel as though nobody cares if I live or die, So I might as well begin to put some action in my life, You know what it’s called… You reach the diner, a humble building on the outskirts of town. “We stopped here on our way in, I assume you’ve been here?”

“Believe it or not, I haven’t. I never really come this way.” The diner is close to the edge of town, something Eddie only ventures out of to visit War Zone when he makes enough for a new leather jacket, and that’s in the other direction.

“Well, their pancakes are to die for.”

The waitress at the host stand is a frazzled middle aged lady, wearing an apron covered in coffee stains. The diner bustles before you, women speed walking from table to table, serving mugs of coffee and plates of steaming eggs and bacon. The waitress greets you with a big, fake smile, and leads you to a booth in the far corner. “What can I get ya started with, lovebirds?” She asks, her pad and pen at the ready.

“Oh, we’re not-“ Eddie starts, but you interrupt, “We will have two coffees, one black, one with room for milk, and two short stacks of your chocolate chip pancakes. Oh! And two sides of bacon, please.” You hand the menus back to her, and she nods, walking off to the kitchen. “Trust me?” You reach your arms across the table, and Eddie takes your hands and nods.

Eddie’s POV

“So? You ask, stuffing the fluffy pancake in your mouth. Eddie makes a scene of cutting into his own slowly, bringing it to his lips, and chewing it carefully. He closes his eyes, as if cutting off one of his senses will amplify the others. Once he swallows, he opens his eyes wide, rolling them back into his head. “Fucking delicious.”

You beam at him, grateful to watch him enjoy himself, and pour maple syrup on your bacon. Eddie gives you a look of feigned disgust. You wave a sticky strip at him. “Try it!”

He obliges eagerly, taking a bite from the bacon still in your hand. You wait for his response, and after a minute of deciding, he says, “I’ll never doubt you again.”

For a while, you eat in silence, each in your own head as you watch the people bustle around the restaurant. When you’ve finished half your plate, Eddie speaks. “What are we doing today?”

You look up from your plate to meet his gaze. “We’re doing something right now aren’t we?”

“I mean, after this. You got any plans?”

“I’m at your disposal, if you’ll have me.”

Eddie can’t help the laugh that leaves his throat. If only you knew how badly it aches to think of going home. Not after the weekend you’ve both had. “There’s a decent record store downtown, if you’re interested?”

You nod your head vigorously.

When the check comes, you both reach for it. “Hey, you drove.” Eddie insists, pulling his wallet from his back pocket. You go to protest, but he holds a hand up to shush you, pulling two crisp 20s from the center fold, placing it under his empty mug. You cross your arms, twisting your face into a pout. “I am an empowered person, I can take care of myself.” You joke.

“I totally agree with you. But I also want you to save that money for the dime you’re about to drop on music.” He won’t hear your rebuttal, so you slide out of the booth, and he rises behind you.

—

Your POV

Eddie directs you through Hawkins, letting himself slip into tangents involving the places you pass. “And there is where I spent the night for public intoxication,” He points out your window to the Hawkins Police Department. “Chief Hopper stayed with me that night. I was only sixteen, walking home from a party, and he was out patrolling. He called my house, but no one came to pick me up. Dad was on a bender, mom was… god knows where.” You listen to every word as he glosses over his troubled adolescence. You feel deeply sad for him, and yearn to go back in time and tell your parents to move to Indiana four years earlier. “Here we are!” You pull up to a plaza, containing a pizza place that’s closed on Sundays, a nail salon, and the record store, aptly named Record Scratches. Eddie holds the door to the shop for you, the bell ringing lightly as you enter.

Inside, the walls are lined with shelves and shelves of records, both pristinely cling wrapped as well as old and dusty. Through the store speakers, you can just make out the words to Close To Me by The Cure: I’ve waited hours for this, I’ve made myself so sick, I wish I’d stayed asleep today, I never thought this day would come. The kid at the counter cant be older than sixteen, dressed in a denim jacket layered over a Tears for Fears shirt. “Hey, Liam!” Eddie greets him, and he returns the hello with an excited wave.

“Hi, Eddie! Welcome back.”

“This is Y/N, I’m sure they’ll become a frequent patron of yours.” You give the kid a wave that he returns. “Let me know if you need help with anything, though Eddie could probably help you better than I could.” He says, then returns to taking inventory of the box of vinyl on the counter.

Eddie migrates to the metal section, while you linger around the punk records towards the middle. You brush the covers of Bad Brains, Black Flag, The Clash, and Dead Kennedys. At the end of each aisle are cassette tapes of more music, perfect for playing in your car. You decide there that you’ll get Eddie something, preferably that you like and have confidence he’ll also enjoy. You look over to him, engrossed in the art of a Motörhead record. After plenty of consideration, you choose The Runaways self titled record, remembering how you would play You Drive Me Wild in the car on your way to your guitar lessons, giving yourself something to work towards: You know when you’re close, you really turn me on. That’s why I want you so bad when you’re gone, Yeah! Come on, come on and take me home, Please stay with me, and don’t you leave me alone… You decide to grab Kate Bush’s Hounds of Love on vinyl as well, currently only possessing it as a cassette tape.

—

Eddie’s POV (simultaneously with yours)

He settles toward the back of the store, where the metal records collect dust in a dark corner, isolated even in his favorite place. He wants to get you a record, something that proves he’s got good taste, but will still impress you. He looks up at you, across the store, digging in the punk records. He watches the way you smile when you find a record you’re looking for, inspecting used ones for scratches. Selfishly, he wants you like this all the time. A lazy Sunday spent with you at a diner, a record store, or even on the couch. He scours over the collection, barely bigger than his own. A few jump to mind: Black Sabbath, Iron Maiden, Metallica, Judas Priest. He knows you like those bands, though, leaving very little to his imagination. He wants to wow you, for some reason. He finds you difficult to read, still not able to tell how you feel about him. He goes over every shelf, it seems, inspecting records for tracks that trigger something within him, that compel him to purchase it for someone like you.

He’s about to lose hope when he spots it, tucked away in the back of the wrong lettered section: Metal Health by Quiet Riot. He recalls the lyrics to Love’s A Bitch fondly, Love’s got me by the ass again, I’ve been in love since I don’t know when, I keep running and I don’t know why, Love’s given me a crock of lies, out of breath and I’m out of time. He tucks the record under his arm, and decides to also grab himself a copy of Autoamerican on his way by the alternative section, swearing not to tell you.

—

Your POV

“I got you something.” Eddie says as you exit the shop, and you look at him with disbelief.

“You’re not gonna believe this, but I got you something, too.”

Eddie gives you a smile, curing you of any nerves. “On three?”

“One”

Two,”

“Three!” You both pull records out of your bags. “Autoamerican? I have that already.”

Eddie does a double take. “Shit.” He switches the record for Quiet Riot’s, handing it to you. You hand him the Runaways album, and take yours from his hand. The cover shows a man in a straight jacket and a mask that looks like a jail for your face. He inspects the Runaways record, flipping it to read the tracks on the back.

“Thank you,” you whisper it, almost not wanting him to hear you.

“You wanna go home and listen?” Eddie asks, an excited smile spread across his face.

“Yours or mine?”

“Whichever,” he shrugs, thinking home is wherever you are. You decide to go back to yours to switch into Eddie’s van before going to his.

—

Eddie’s POV

At the trailer, he opens the door to the van, then his front door for you. “Player’s in my room.” He points loosely to the back of the trailer, grabbing his supply of weed off the kitchen counter to bring with him.

He enters the room, eyeing as you slip Metal Health from its sleeve, placing it gently in the player. He can’t lie to himself, he’s ecstatic you chose to listen to that one first.

The first track, named for the album, starts at a low volume, but he watches you crank it as he lights a joint, banging your head to the beat.

Eddie doesn’t know what comes over him, but he takes you by the hand, dragging you to the middle of his bedroom. He twirls you like he would at a prom, grooving in time with you. When you’re facing him again, he brings the joint up to your lips and watches you inhale. Your face is flushed, hair still windblown from the drive over. The chorus kicks in, Bang your head, Metal health’ll drive you mad, and you jump on top of the bed, bouncing up and down as you continue obeying, whipping your head around like Eddie did the night of the Corroded Coffin show.

He watches you in awe, admiring your lack of inhibition, truly enjoying yourself. You’ve got the brightest smile on your face as you point at Eddie, telling him to join you on your makeshift stage.

When the guitar solo starts, Eddie whips out the trusty air guitar, hopping on the bed with you. As the song fades into the next track, the two of you flop down on the bed, laughing and out of breath.

“What are we doing?” Eddie yells over the music.

“Enjoying ourselves!” You shout back, flinging his arms around his neck, bringing him into a bear hug. He hugs you back, no hesitation about it, and holds you there for a minute, relishing in the smell of your hair as it tickles his nose.

When you loosen your grip, but you hover in front of his face, your own inches away, arms still clasped around him.

“That’s not what you meant, was it?”

“Not exactly, but you’re right. I have been enjoying myself.”

“But is that enough for you?” You reach over to turn the music down so you don’t have to shout. Your eyes are filled with concern, and his heart melts.

“More than enough. Is it enough for you?”

You shake your head briefly, “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking this weekend.”

“Do tell.” His heart aches with anticipation.

You’re silent for a second, considering your words carefully. “I didn’t come here planning to make friends. I wanted to focus on school, get the hell out, and then worry about my social life.”

Eddie nods, feeling his heart crack as he looks at you.

“But,” You pause, adjusting your grip around his neck, “that’s not what happened. I met you. And I’m so glad I did.”

Eddie breaks into another huge smile then, moving his arms to wrap around your waist as you both shift in the bed. He speaks finally, “I’m so fucking glad I met you.” He’s had it with the subtleties, he moves one arm from your waist to tuck a flyaway behind your ear, focusing on your ear instead of your eyes.

—

Your POV

The warmth of his hand heats your face, surely making it redder than it already is. You look at him, at his lips: pink and so unbelievably soft, his pupils large making dark brown eyes almost black. The dimple in his cheek grows as he meets your eyes.

“What are you thinking about?” He asks you, barely a whisper.

“How badly I want you to kiss me.” The words leave your mouth before you can stop them, and you look away. It’s the first time you admit it, and you feel a weight lift off your chest. Your heart beats faster, and it’s so loud in your ears that you’re convinced he can hear it too.

“Yeah?” Eddie cups a hand under your chin. He doesn’t seem fazed by your words. In fact, he seems elated to hear it, quirking an eyebrow at you, almost skeptical.

You take his hand from your face and move it over the left side of your chest. “Does it feel like I’m joking right now?”

He looks from your face to where his hand sits, right on top of your breast with your full consent. The look of shock is quickly replaced with one of mischief. As if you couldn’t get any warmer, the words leave his lips so close to yours that his breath is hot on your face. “Kiss me first.” You shake your head as if the entire scene is taking place in your brain rather than right in front of you. He leans further into you, taking your face back in his hand. He’s an inch, less than that, away from your lips, you can almost taste him. Your eyes close slowly, and you pucker your lips as subtly as you can manage… and nothing happens.

Instead of connecting your lips, he widens his smile, watching your reaction to his teasing. You open one eye to catch him gawking at your face. “What the hell?”

A cackle breaks the tension as Eddie throws his head back. It shatters you, watching him find amusement in your vulnerability. So much so, you decide then and there that your seven minutes in Heaven are over. He’s still laughing as you mumble “I gotta go.” shoving off of Eddie’s bed to go look for your shoes. You stifle your tears as your chest heaves, threatening to burst right in front of Eddie. “Wait, Y/N, I didn’t mean—“ You slam his bedroom door behind you and make a run for the outside.

“Wait, hold on!” Eddie calls for you, but it’s too late. You’ve slipped outside, abandoning the record in the player, storming out of his trailer with a slam of the door.

“Y/N!” Eddie calls from the porch as you stomp out of earshot. It’s pouring now, and you totally forgot you switched cars, so you’re stuck walking home, a direction you barely remember when you’re not crying.

You faintly hear Eddie calling for you, and he’s sure to at least follow to the edge of the park, but you don’t turn around. You’ll walk the block for an hour in the rain, maybe, clear your head. Was this all a fucking joke to him? Did he not feel anything for you? He did a great fucking job pretending.

There’s about an inch of water in your shoes as you exit onto the main road. Maybe a nice truck driver will pick you up, whisking you away from this Hellish town with its charming, beautiful, and deceitful boys. You don’t bother to hide your tears anymore, no one can see them in the rain.

“Y/N! I’m sorry!” Eddie’s voice is closer now, but you don’t dare turn around until you feel him tug on your shoulder, forcing you to face him.

“What the fuck was that?” You whip around to look up at him, the rain dripping from his hair into his face, soaking into his clothes the same way it must be yours. “That shit’s not funny.”

“I know. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it to hurt your feelings. I just—I was so surprised.”

“What? Surprised that I actually believed you’d kiss me?! How fucking dare I, honestly?” You spit your words with a harsh venom behind them. “With you looking at me the way you do, touching me the way you do. Forgive me, Eddie, for thinking I had a sliver of a chance with you.” It feels like you’re losing your mind, having deluded yourself into believing Eddie felt the same way you do. “You know what, you’re a fucking freak.” You both flinch at the word when it leaves your lips, and you instantly regret it. It’s a low blow, and one you’ve been on the receiving end of plenty of times. “Eddie, I—“

“No, it’s okay. I deserve that. I am. What type of person falls for someone over the course of one week? Who else laughs when they finally get the chance they’ve been wishing for since day one? I wanted to kiss you. I want to kiss you now. But, I can’t.”

“What the fuck does that even mean, Eddie? It sounds like you don’t want to kiss me.”

“It means once I kiss you, that’s it. No one’s left wondering what could have been. I have been wracking my brain trying to figure you out, the best way to do it, and I’ve come up with nothing. I’ve had so many chances and none of them felt good enough. I wanted to make it special, and when the opportunity finally revealed itself, I fucked it up!” He flails his arms above his head in exasperation, shouting over the sound of rain on the roofs of the trailers behind him. “I was so desperate to get this right that I made it so much worse.”

“And you don’t think spending this whole weekend together; comforting each other through being beaten up, my nightmares, my grandmother, staying up all night to talk, falling asleep in each other’s beds— you don’t see how special any of that is? I had so many opportunities to go home, Eddie. I could have bolted after the party Friday, could have sent you home when I saw my grandmother. You could have kicked me out after my episode, told me to go fuck myself and sleep on the couch. Not fucking once did I want to leave you until you laughed at me like that.” Your voice breaks, and you release a chest rattling sob into the air. “Why would you laugh at me like that?” The question barely escapes before you let yourself cry.

Your question hangs over his head like an anvil, guilt clouding his vision. Eddie covers his face with his hands, half to stifle a cry of his own, half to wipe the rain from his face. “I didn’t mean to laugh. I was so… shocked by what you said, I didn’t know what to do. I panicked. No one’s ever told me they want to kiss me and meant it, especially someone I want to kiss. I guess… I didn’t believe you.” The words break your heart into even smaller pieces. You dare take a step closer to Eddie, quietly so he can’t hear you do so over the rain. You drag your feet closer to where he stands, eventually your toes only an inch apart. He notices, looking up from his feet to squint at you through the storm. “I am so fucking sorry.”

“I guess it’s okay.” You swat the tears from your eyes. “You should probably grovel, though, just to make sure.”

Eddie doesn’t hesitate. He drops to his knees, soaking them through with mud as he clasps his hands together in prayer. “Please, Y/N, forgive me for all I’ve done. I live to serve you and you alone. What shall I do to make it up to you?”

You bend down to his eye level, cupping his chin in your hand. His skin is wet under your equally rain soaked touch, your thumb slipping quickly over his bottom lip. “Whatever you feel is appropriate.” You tease before standing again, walking past him back to his trailer.

Before you can get far, he grabs your wrist, using you to pull himself back up. In one swift motion, you’re spun to face him, and he closes the space between you, finally connecting his lips to yours. It’s as if the storm has stopped, as if the world freezes on its axis in the brightest sunspot, your whole body melting with his touch. You’re numb to the rain, only concentrating on how soft his lips are on yours, the way his fingers grip your hips, the way he tastes like weed, cigarettes, and mint. You wrap your arms around his neck, tangling your fingers in his wet hair, and he lifts you off your feet, making sure your lips stay securely connected.

“I should get you home, huh?” He says, ending the kiss much to your disapproval, that stupid smile back on his face as he puts you on the ground. You give him a pout in response, and he plants a second, too-quick kiss on your lips. “C’mon, we can throw your clothes in the dryer before you leave.” He holds out his hand for you to take, and you do, following Eddie back into his trailer.

chapter VI

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todomitoukei · 2 years

Note

hello! japanese learner anon here ^^

how are you? how are things?

things are okay on my end. i’m kind of contemplating quitting japanese lessons because i’m burnt out. my sensei has this tendency to rarely praise or compliment someone for their efforts in learning japanese. unless you eat sleep and breathe japanese, then you’re not really putting the effort. he mad a jab about me in the groupchat and i’m honestly too tired to respond.

since march, i’ve been waking up very early (i’m unemployed) to study vocabulary. i now review 16 lessons worth of vocabulary for two hours, work on some home work in the afternoon for two hours more and use japatalk twice a week to speak to native japanese people. i have difficulties with listening (audios are way too fast) and sentence creation but i consider myself to be very good! especially when we’re asked why a particle is added here. i’ve also improved my reading and translation skills and im very happy with my achievements in japanese these year. even when i started becoming burnt out last month, i still pushed through.

however, we took a midterm two weeks ago and i got a 56/100 and i was in total disbelief. it’s like i didn’t study or learning anything at all! sensei said he intentionally made it very difficult for us and wanted it to be challenging and he said the reason why my score is so low is because of the listening portion. okay true but i’d understand more of i scored around the 70s not 50s like??

i wish i could enroll with another teacher but he’s the only one that i know of that teaches japanese in great detail and can explain it in arabic (my native language) and english. plus, i spent a lot of money and effort to just give up.

sorry this turned into a rant but i feel like you’re the only one who gets me 🥺

Hi there!

I've been good! I have a busy week ahead of me because my parents are going on vacation tomorrow (guess who gets to drive them to the airport at 2.30 in the morning...) but I'm going to a concert soon and going on vacation next month so I'm super excited about those things!!

First things first, I'm so sorry you're having to deal with a shitty teacher like that. Not sure why someone like that is a teacher when they're clearly not fit for the job...

I'm not sure if you're just considering quitting your Japanese classes or studying in general, but I definitely think that if the class and teacher aren't for you, then forcing yourself to suffer through it isn't the solution. You can keep studying on your own though, and based on what you're saying here, I've got a few tips for you that might help you:

First of all, you're spending too much time reviewing vocab. I used to be just like that and it wasn't as helpful as I thought it was and kept me from progressing better and faster. For a long time, all I did was learn vocab and grammar, without ever using it for anything by reading, etc. The thing is - there is only so much input your brain can handle and two hours is way too much.

Instead, I recommend reducing that time to maybe 15 minutes and using the rest of those 2 hours doing other things like reading. Doing something like comprehensible input (meaning you understand 80-90% already) is super helpful because you can either use this to learn new vocab/grammar without it being too much, or you can just consume content without looking up what you don't understand because most of the time, you can just fill in the blanks from context.

I used to watch a lot of crime shows when I was younger and whenever they would talk about medicine/science, I wouldn't understand shit but I still got the point and was able to enjoy the story. So doing comprehensible input or even consuming content "below" your level - meaning you understand pretty much everything - is a great way to just get used to seeing vocab and grammar in context and get used to sentence patterns without it feeling like studying.

Aside from the fact that you're gonna feel less burnt out by spending less time doing pure studying, what's really good is that you mentioned what you struggle with. Identifying your weak points is the first step in improving in those areas. So if you don't struggle so much with vocab, but more with listening, then focus more on the listening part.

Here are a few of my favorite YouTube channels that I highly recommend you use for practicing your listening. These channels are all made for Japanese learners so they're not too fast or difficult:

Comprehensible Japanese: Yuki talks about all kinds of topics and uses a whiteboard to draw while talking to visualize what is being said. She also repeats words and uses synonyms. The channel has three playlists that categorize the videos into difficulty levels from complete beginner to intermediate. I recommend watching ALL the videos. Again, you don't have to learn anything new here, this is all about practicing your listening.

あかね的日本語教室: Akane is a Japanese teacher who makes videos that are aimed at intermediate and above students, but even if you don't understand everything, just getting used to hearing the language and trying to pick up as many words as possible is a great practice.

Japanese with Shun: There are videos and podcasts that are for beginner to intermediate learners. A lot of videos also mention in the description which JLPT level they correspond with so you can choose a video that matches your current level.

しのせんせい: This channel has two main video formats: 'Daily News in Simple Japanese' and 'Learn Japanese Through Story' - all the videos have text on the screen and some vocab listed. What I recommend here is to listen to the video once without reading the text. Then watch again this time reading the text and looking up any words you don't know. Then watch again and see how much you can pick up now.

Aside from listening, you also mentioned that you struggle with creating sentences. Input (listening and reading) will help you a lot with this already because exposing yourself to sentence patterns, etc. will help you to easily memorize them. But I have two tips for improving on this through output:

Shadowing: This means listening to native material and repeating what you hear. You can also use the above-mentioned YouTube channels for this. Since those channels are beginner friendly, they are spoken slowly and have lots of pauses, giving you enough time to repeat what you heard without missing the next sentence. The last channel I recommend is especially good for this since the text is on the screen so instead of having to focus on listening + repeating, you just have to read + repeat. Speaking is all about muscle memory, which is why shadowing is a good way to get your mouth used to speaking Japanese. It can also help you memorize vocab, sentence patterns, etc. so it's a win-win situation.

Journaling: This doesn't have to be fancy. Just writing a couple of sentences in Japanese every day can go a long way. There are a few options for you here: you can use a physical journal, an app that lets you journal/take notes, or an app where a native speaker and correct you (i.e. HelloTalk). I especially recommend the last option because that way, you won't just keep making the same mistakes without knowing. The best way to do this is to have a separate notebook where you write down the mistakes you have made and their corrections. Go over those at the end of the week to see what you struggle with. Is there grammar or vocab you're using incorrectly? If so, go over those grammar points or words again. Keeping a daily journal is really helpful. Even if your sentences may seem plain and repetitive to you, you'll quickly memorize basic sentence patterns and build up on those over time. And remember - it doesn't have to be perfect, it's okay to make mistakes! People have a tendency to try and be perfect, but to tell you the truth, native speakers make mistakes too! And with English, I honestly... stopped caring. If I make a mistake, so be it. Language is there to communicate your thoughts, so as long as you can get the point across, who cares? So don't feel discouraged if you made a mistake or couldn't 100% accurately say what you wanted to say. A little is more than nothing.

I know the language learning process can be a struggle. And having a teacher that does nothing but discourages you isn't helping. But just think about the fact that there was a time when you didn't know any Japanese and now you can already speak to Japanese people so you clearly have a foundation already and the ability to progress.

Like I said, I used to also do more studying than anything else, but I made far more and better progress since moving away from actively studying (but still doing some reviews) and focusing more on just surrounding myself with the language and enjoying the process.

While I do still review vocab, for the most part, I just look up words I don't know whenever I come across them. It can be a bit frustrating to keep coming across the same word and not be able to recall its meaning even though you know you've looked it up several times already and as soon as you do look it up you just roll your eyes because 'DUH, I knew that!' but as frustrating as that is, it feels so accomplishing once you finally don't have to look it up anymore because you managed to remember it. Repeatedly exposing yourself is often more successful than trying to just drill it into your head.

The bottom line is that what helped me the most was to recognize what didn't work and then change up my routine. A different approach is often the best solution. I constantly change up my routine now to ensure I still have fun and because there are always new ways for me to improve my Japanese.

Always ask yourself: What doesn't work? What do I not enjoy? And then find ways to change those parts and keep the parts that do work.

There are a lot more resources and methods, but these were just some tips based on what you've said you struggle with so I hope this helps you a little bit.

Just know that you definitely don't have to stay in that class and can just self-study instead. There are always gonna be moments where you might not enjoy it as much, but it is so worth it because whenever you notice your progress, it feels so rewarding and that will motivate you to keep going. It's also a great reminder to yourself that you can improve your skills so you will be able to improve even more in the future.

Anyway, I understand your struggle and hope things will get better for you.

And definitely keep me updated! You got this!!

頑張って！

#ask #japanese #i had to rewrite this because tumblr sucks and I think my original version was better but I hope this is still acceptable lol #i'm also very tired and have to get up in 3 hours soooo here you go #anyway i love talking about this stuff so it was worth it

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inactive02939 · 2 years

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Identity: I'm Keo, i use they/he pronouns, non-binary, im ace but I'm mostly romantically attracted to women

ND: Tourette's, social anxiety, BPD, ADHD, dyslexia

Appearance: I'm quite short 5'3/160cm, short brown hair, chubby, brown eyes, wear glasses, kinda tan (but I'm white)

Style: i mostly wear comfy clothes like leggings (sensory issues), large shirts, hoodies. Mostly wear darker colors tho in summer i might be a bit more daring mostly with yellow and oranges cause it's my fave color. For shoes i either wear Docs or Funky colored converse

Personality: When i first get to know people i can be quite quiet if it's a group or they are more extroverted than me but if the other person is very introverted i become more extroverted. I'm mostly and introvert and don't LOVE being in social situations. Like i can survive maximum 3-5h with a group depending on if i like them or not. I will almost never initiate conversation with a stranger unless i know they like something i also like. I can go on RANTS about stuff i like and i mean full on hours of just rambling about my interested. I love deep conversations especially about politics and philosophy me and my best friend will spend days talking about it. I mostly perfer people that can hold a more complex conversation and absolutely HATE small talk. I'm also very very upfront and sometimes even blunt if i think it's necessary (tho not much it's more just being direct) as in like if you do something dumb i won't sugar coat it too much, in fact i think that sugar coating or telling a lie to make someone happier (unless it's absolutely necessary as in like telling them the truth will cause them to get in an even worse state) isn't nice and shows you don't have my best interest in mind. I can be a bit pushy so i encourage honesty on when I'm breaking boundaries cause otherwise the relationship/friendship would not work at all with me. I also hate people that talk talk talk about how woke they are and how much more literate or smart they are than other people cause you just look snobby to me. I'm also very left leaning politically and it does influence how i percieve people. All in all I'm quite nice but i won't shy away from telling someone to fuck off if i need to. Also another thing is that apparently i look very trustworthy so I'm known to know everybody's secrets and drama and am actually quite a good secrete keeper. Another thing I've heard people say is that because of my love of deeper conversations i can come off as a bit intimidating in some discussion.

Preference: i prefer girls but boys are ok too

you've been matched with jiro kyouka!!

although it took her a while to realize it, she really liked you.

she has a good rank; 7th place in the midterms, but she's not one to boast about it.

she likes listening to you talk. she doesn't even care if she doesn't know what you're talking about, your voice is just soothing.

she also has docs. probably a few pairs.

kyouka isn't exactly one for small talk either. she prefers real conversations, much like you.

she likes when you tell kaminari that something he's done or said is dumb. she loves it.

doesn't really pay attention to your tics. okay, you have tourettes, great, let's go to dinner. not a big deal.

but if your tics get bad she'll stay with you and distract you with a conversation. if you can't talk, then she'll put on a movie or show she know you'd want to watch. she just knows you like that.

(disclaimer: i have tourettes and know how to write for it.)

as the movie went on, you thought you'd die of boredom. you snapped your fingers and whispered a few "ooh"s and "wow"s, but nothing bad enough to discontinue the dumb movie.

almost everyone was here; kirishima on the floor, sitting with bakugo and kaminari, midoriya's squad of loud friends was on one of the couches, mina and hagakure having a conversation about which boys were cuter-- nobody was really paying attention to the movie. you sighed and sprang up off the couch, sticking your tongue out at todoroki. after watching him jokingly reciprocate, you went for the kitchen to grab a cup of (favorite drink).

as you started walking back to the common room, you see your girlfriend sipping something in a mug. her eyes widen. "you scared me, keo." she muttered before putting her cup in the sink. you see the remains of chocolate at the bottom of the cup. must've been some hot chocolate she had been sipping. kyouka sighed softly and moved her long bangs out of her eyes.

"yeah, i just came to get a drink-- this is boring the hell out of me, want to go upstairs to my dorm?" you gently jerked your thumb to the elevator.

"i thought you'd never ask." she gave her small grin and you two walked hand in hand to the elevator, finally getting the opportunity to what you really liked; philosophy!

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dangeles · 3 years

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OH MY GOD ROOMMATES IS FANTASTIC THANKS FOR THE RECOMMENDATION

i just listened to it and it's so good oh my god i loved it. yesss give me gay sex scenes in audio format pIONEERS shdakjghjfg

"come over here and objectify with me" adsgfkhfgh what a line cant believe it worked for him

hearing the line "[yes i still have] feelings, or whatever you want to call them" from someone with calebs voice was a nice little bit of unintentional irony xD

and oh my god them getting drunk was SO CUTE. casper all drunkenly trying to say he likes olly and just listing his flaws and olly is like 'okay okay sh sh i get it casper' asghjkhg adorable

"i like you now. a lot. a lot a lot. and sometimes im afraid you'll notice how much a lot" 😭😭😭 how much a lot

and then they KISS and then immediately deny they did and aaahhhhh the whole kiss & dont tell episode was so painful i wanted to cry. them talking about their feelings but not talking about their feelings and just both being like "unless" "unless" "unless?" and denying it aahhh i was in pain

but the finale was so good i listened to it twice. olly finally using his birthday present. "not for this" "especially for this" YES!!!

casper starting out with all the bad things about olly that just bother him because of how much he likes him? chefs kiss nice parallel with the episode they got drunk tbh

them being all kissing and then talking it out all serious and then olly goes "so how did your stats midterm go" and casper is like "shut up i dont care" <333333 thats hot

i called them pioneers jokingly but joking aside ive had a fascination and admiration for audio storytelling since i heard season 4 of wolf 359 and i actually thought the way they did this sex scene was really cool. sure maybe it's just that it's my first audio sex scene maybe this is just kinda industry standard ashdgjfh? it wasnt like super special or anything but it was very effective? it was really elegant and simple and worked well

it reminded me a bit of how the magnus archives uses fabric rustles instead of kissing noises. idk like. the suggestion of the thing rather than the depiction. i think audio storytelling is really a lot about the mastery of suggestion? maybe all storytelling is like that in some way. "show dont tell" and all that. it's all about picking what you show and what youre suggesting with what youre showing and letting the audience make inferences. but i think audio has a stronger relationship with, like, the Mastery Of SuggestionTM or whatever than other media. at least it's a different relationship than film has to suggestion i think. film can use suggestion in really masterful ways too but for audio everything but the dialogue is suggestion. so you have to put all your suggestions IN the dialogue. it's just a really interesting way to tell stories imo

anyway podcast enthusiast ramble over, thanks for this recommendation it was really fun!

oh my gosh YES!! I'm so glad you liked it!!

It's so wonderfully made, I could rave about it!

I loved how Olly called Casper out on the neatness thing, which was him being very pissing with Olly but being untidy at the same time. I think that was really interesting.

And the fact that Olly isn't just a stereotypical jock and is in fact smart and cool at the same time, and Casper slowly but steadily falling for him, YESSS!

That first kiss was so unexpected; like, they were just watching a movie, and then it was just silent and suddenly [kissy noises] and then the episode ends, no dialogue. It took me off-guard so quickly but that was perfect for the way the two were dancing around each other!

In all honestly, I didn't exactly realise it became a sex scene at the finale; I was so engrossed in the fact that they confessed, my brain was still in the making-out section of it. It took me two listens to realise oh my god they're DOING it!! And it was so well deserved!!! And I agree, the Mastery of Suggestion is exactly what it is, I think! Just the subtlest ways of conveying something. the audio equivalent of a silhouette painting. Beautiful, if done right!

Dreamboy did the exact opposite though, and I sat there, rendered catatonic while the two men went at it very loudly, but it was still very apt and perfect for the kind of vibe the whole story had, so I had no qualms with it.

[If Dane Terry and Briggon Snow collaborate, I will physically and mentally combust.]

It was also lovely to hear Briggon play the openly gay nerd instead of the closeted jock, I was so impressed he was able to voice Casper the exact way he looked in the podcast cover.

I loved everything about Roommates, it's the perfect binge series.

I hope he makes more audiodramas, God I would THRIVE!!!!!

#podcasts #briggon snow #roomamtes

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cheoliehae · 3 years

Text

121U! - jeon wonwoo // seventeen au

❖ soulmate: you are able to communicate with your soulmate via a special chat room but you are both unaware of who you are due to the username

❖ a/n: hi everyone, so if you been here since the beginning of my blog you know that i used to write bts text au and that I also have skz au writing account. well since im in my 3rd year of uni i started to write to relieve stress and it’s really fun. so enjoy this idea i had that was og for my skz blog. if you haven’t figured it out yet I took inspiration from Day6 song 121U (aka a bop) as well as A Cinderella Story (you know the one with Hillary Duff, a CLASSIC). It is unsure how much i will write on this blog since again i only write when i am relieving stress so until next time enjoy :)

❖ word count: 1.6k (legit one word away from 1.7k)

❖ paring: jeon wonwoo x gn reader

❖: high school au, soulmate au

Ah, high school, a time where smarts and social status do not mix well together. You are either lucky enough to be a part of the popular crowd, being invited to all of the hottest parties, and dating the hottest people. Or get a normal student focusing on their studies and not giving a crap about any social status that one may obtain. Walking down the hallway with your earbuds in your ear you didn’t care about the people around you. You were just at school to study and graduate knowing that you were destined for greatness after high school.

“Excuse me,” you heard a voice coming from behind you. Pulling out your airpods you were faced with Mina and her group of followers. “Can I help you?” you questioned her as you had no idea what she wanted from you. You have never even said two words to her before this moment so you were highly confused about what was happening. “You are walking slowly and my locker is right there so can you please use your two legs and move faster please,” Mina motioned for her hands to move. Rolling your eyes you did just that and proceed to walk into class.

“Hey y/n you look, not good,” your best friend Joshua as he saw you sit down at your desk. Setting your head down a small sigh left your month “I hate Myoui Mina with a passion, I get it she is popular but does that give her a reason to freakin pick on everyone like come freakin on”. Joshua extended his arm and gently pat you on the back “there their y/n, rant to your best friend,”. Raising your head up you saw Mina walking into class with her boyfriend Wonwoo as his arm was around her. “Great this is going to be a long day,” you set your head back down and moped.

As time passed by you started to get bored in class as you finished all of your assignments. You opened a new tab on your laptop and entered into a chatroom. A smile grew on your face as you got excited seeing your friend mrbookworm was online. A bit of backstory mrbookworm is actually your soulmate but you felt really awkward calling him your soulmate since you had no idea who he was.

ouasunshine: hey i see that you are alive

mrbookworm: yeah i finished my classwork a bit early so i wanted to see if you were on or not

mrbookworm: and just like i expected here you are :)

ouasunshine: i am highly convinced that you are just on this chat room 24/7 waiting for me to come online

mrbookworm: you would be disappointed if that was false ;)

ouasunshine: dont get cheesy with me.

A chuckle left your mouth knowing how much mrbookworm made you feel. But it sucked that you did not know him in person cause you really did believe that if you did your whole world would be different. He seems like the type of person who really did not care about social status or what others think of him.

mrbookworm: how are your classes today?

ouasunshine: the normally but I did have a lovely run-in with one of the ‘popular’ at my school

ouasunshine: let’s just say it was not really the highlight of my day

mrbookworm: :( im sorry you had a rough day I wish there to make you feel better

ouasunshine: i have to go, the bell just rang

Packing up your backpack and quickly walked out of the classroom trying your best to avoid any more interactions with that clique. Which for once was in your favor as you didn’t run into any of that crowd for the rest of the school day. Your absolute favorite time of the day was when the last bell rang and you were able to go to the library. It was quiet and wasn’t too crowded unless it was midterm or final season. The librarians were also very appreciative that you came during your free time and helped out. “Y/n, I just wanted to let you know that we are going to close up a bit early so don’t be alarmed okay,”. “I won’t Mrs. Park,” you said with a smile on your face and then returned to your book.

As time passed you were getting lost in your book. “Excuse me,” looking up from your book you say Wonwoo standing in front of you “Um can I check out a laptop?”. “Sure but the library is closing early so you have at least 30 minutes before I have to ask for it back. ID please,” you held out your hand. He handed it to you and once you scanned everything you handed it back to him. You watched as he walked away and returned to your book. Looking over at the desk that was in front of you you saw your phone buzzing. You moved forwards to see if anyone was in your line of sight and if anyone could see you, let’s just say you were in the clear.

mrbookworm: if you were picking out a book for me, what book would you recommend?

ouasunshine: what makes you say that I am a reader?

mrbookworm: well for one thing your soulmate is a bookworm aka i am a bookworm

mrbookworm: i kinda hope that my soulmate is one too

ouasunshine: Are We There Yet? by David Levithan. It is about two brothers who go to Italy and they end up falling for the same girl but neither of them knows. It is pretty good. I give it a solid ⅘ but it definitely breaks the love standards that we are used to.

mrbookworm: wow i can’t imagine a system without soulmates

ouasunshine: i feel like the system of soulmates will still exist but people won’t know see the signs unless they are truly in love

mrbookworm: do you think there will be a possibility that we would be soulmates without this whole soulmate system.

ouasunshine: that is really hard to say

The clock hit 15:30 and you had to leave. So you logged out and looked around for Wonwoo to get everything back. “Um hey so,” you said walking up to where he was sitting out. “Oh is it time already?,” he said looking at his watch and then back at you. “Yeah, sorry for kicking you out I guess? I mean I know we are open later than this but you know closing hours aren’t my rules to make,” you said looking at him. “No no I understand, do you think I can check out a book or will it be easier to get it tomorrow morning?”. “Probably come tomorrow morning then you have more time to actually look for your book if you have no idea where it is located,”. “Yeah I think that will be my best bet. Thanks for the help y/n,”.

You were taken aback by him saying your name was this was one of the first time that you have ever had a conversation with him. “No problem, Wonwoo,: smiling back at him as you walked him out before locking up.

As the night was drawing to an end you were laying in bed finishing up an homework assignment. It was a simple reading so it was nothing heavy but you did wish that time would pass faster. A ding from your computer and you saw the lovely notification from your soulmate.

mrbookworm: two truths and one lie?

ouasunshine: hello to you too,

ouasunshine: what are you doing lol

mrbookworm: i’m bored and I don't feel like bothering my friends

ouasunshine: so you wanted to bother me?

mrbookworm: you’re my soulmate ;)

mrbookworm: you are kinda stuck with me forever

ouasunshine: i mean i guess i can spare a minute or two

ouasunshine: ummm

ouasunshine: my favorite cake is red velvet, i played soccer as a kid and i’m 75% certain i was a butterfly in my kindergarten school play.

mrbookworm: oh that is an easy one

mrbookworm: it's the butterfly one

ouasunshine: i wish you can hear me laugh

ouasunshine: it is actually the cake one

mrbookworm: you’re lying

ouasunshine: no i believe that i have a picture somewhere.

ouasunshine: i was either a butterfly or a flower but i have a picture somewhere

mrbookworm: well when i meet you in person you will have to show me

mrbookworm: but what is the lie?

ouasunshine: i really don't like red velvet cake

For the rest of the night, you were talking to your soulmate. And just like you wished for at the beginning of the night the hours did fly by when you were talking to him.

Arriving at school early you walked straight to the library. You unlocked the door and headed to the main deck and pulled out the book that you were reading last night. And to your surprise the first person who entered was Wonwoo.

“Good Morning,” he said, walking up to the desk with a smile on his face. The soft curls from his hair lightly hit the top of his glasses. And the grey sweatshirt that he wasn’t helping his case and we really did look nice. “Hey morning, are you here to look for that book from yesterday?”. “Yeah I am looking for Are We There Yet? by David Levithan,”. Your head lifted from the computer and stopped typing mid-sentence. “No there is no way,” you thought to yourself. “Is there something wrong? Is it checked out?”. “No it’s not that, it’s just I recommended that book to someone yesterday, it is one of my favorites,” you said looking away. “Oh same, well not me recommended but it was recommended to me,” Wonwoo said looking down at the ground.

“This is a very out of the blue question but are you mrbookworm? Again totally random questions and if you aren’t that this is highly embarrassing,”. Wonwoo just looked at you and smiled. “Hi ouasunshine, I’m expecting to see that picture of you as a butterfly one day, maybe over coffee?”. “I would really like that,”.

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haztory · 4 years

Text

𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐚𝐧��𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐤 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝. (2)

-chapter two: the story of us; warnings for this chapter include a brief discussion and mentioning of sexual assault. it is not described in detail nor does it happen to anyone in this fic. i will not ever be using sexual assault as a plot device as i think that’s unnecessary. however, because it is prevalent in female culture, or at least the discussion of it is, it is briefly mentioned.

if this makes anyone uncomfortable, please skip over! i will not be offended at all!

-summary: His eyes are a sea of green that you can't seem to stop drowning in.

a/n: this chapter is a doozy yall, im so sorry. this is mainly to serve as complete exposition of reader and iwa, so it’s hella long. i had an original idea of how i wanted this to go and then i started writing and this happened. lmfao. thank you all for being patient and loving and your comments are so wonderful! i had midterms all last week and all i could think about was writing this! so thank you all and i hope you all enjoy! next chapter will be pure chaos and fun!

i was listening to “cloud 9″ by beach bunny for this chapter! so that might help you understand how i see reader and iwa <33

(w.c.: 8,662 words)

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You’re ten years old when you meet Iwaizumi Hajime for the first time.

He’s an inch shorter than you, skinny, hair set in an unorganized mess of spikes, and he smells of sweat. It’s the least enticing first impression you’ve ever encountered, wondering briefly if this is what all of Miyagi Prefecture has to offer.

Because if so, you’re not looking forward to it.

He’s blocking the entrance to the neighborhood park with his bike, back facing towards you and an arm stretched outward-pointing at something across the park. The same park that your mother has forced you to attend, kicking you out of your new home filled with moving boxes, a warm smile on her face and a simple request to “go have fun”.

A request that was starting to seem like more of a problem than you anticipated.

You’re halted in front of the gates to the area for a solid minute, the boy in front of you being less than aware of your presence as he continues to shout from across the park.

“Grab all of them, Oikawa!”

There’s another boy roughly the same age holding several items that look to be action figures close to his chest. His face is scrunched up and his shoulders slouched as he takes exaggerated sluggish steps while crossing the courtyard. He’s sweaty too, just like the boy in front of you.

“But there’s so many, Iwaaa. Can’t you help me?”

“You’re such a baby, Oikawa.”

The one named Oikawa is about to respond when he stops his movements altogether. He merely points his finger, eyes fixated on something behind his black-haired friend.

You realize a bit too late that he’s pointing at you.

The friend, Iwa as he was called, turns his head with a questioning hum, green eyes meeting yours. A sea of emerald.

“Oh,” he breathes out, voice high in timber and flooded in awkwardness, raising his hand in a shy greeting, “Uh, hi.”

“Hi,” you respond in equal awkwardness, the kind that only a new kid can embody. Uneasiness has been settled into your bones ever since the move was announced, and now, as you stand before two physical embodiments of your displacement in this area, the feeling seems to sink even deeper into your stomach. “You’re blocking the entrance.”

“Huh? Oh! Sorry ‘bout that.” He begins a cumbersome shuffle of pushing the bike he was sitting on backward, small grunts escaping his mouth as he tries to make space for you to enter. It’s a slow process, considering he teeters from side to side and struggles to smoothly retreat from the space. Oikawa snickers in the background, some teasing words being aired that you are too far to hear, but they must be irking enough considering Iwa mutters a “shut up, idiot” in response.

The friendship is formidable, you don’t need to know them for long to see that. Envy and all its bitter acid coat your tongue.

“Are you the one that just moved in?” Oikawa speaks up.

You nod.

“How old are you? Are you going to Kitagawa Elementary? Have you already—”

Iwa interrupts the ferociously excited boy with a gentle scoff, “Calm down, Oikawa. Give her some air. Geez.”

“I just want to know more about the new girl, Iwa-chan!”

“Yeah, well you’re doing it wrong.”

Oikawa rolls his eyes and clutches the toys in his arms tighter, “You do it then!”

“Do what?”

“Introduce us! Make friends!”

“I think you blew it already.”

“Ugh, you’re no fun. If she’s going to the same place as us, she might as well join us! What do you say, new girl?”

You’re shaken from the brief exclusion of the conversation— realizing they’re including you this time— when Iwa tears his eyes away from his friend and meets yours once again. Upon connection with the emeralds, your throat constricts your throat and the relief of ease washes over. The hesitancy that was bubbling in your stomach starts to dissipate when he looks at you— almost comforted by his dark yet steady stare— but the sense is quickly replaced by something else that shakes you. Your skin prickles, like fire ants marching up the pattern of your skin, and your palms start to sweat despite the cooling temperatures and the light breeze blowing against your skin.

You’d have to tell your mom about this, just to make sure you weren’t getting sick.

“Would you like to join us?” Iwa asks. There’s no trace of a smile on his face but the invitation isn’t lacking in warmth. It’s a subtle kind, almost imperceptible if it weren’t for the look of curiosity residing upon his features. He speaks gently, like there wasn’t a distance between you two and another person listening in on the conversation, pointing his question and attention solely at you. There was a center of his gravitational pull and it was in your direction.

He’s waiting for your answer, and not the kind that results after courteously asking someone a question; You can tell he is really waiting, wanting to know what you say because his eyes hold onto yours in a way that is much more mature than a boy at the tender age of ten should be looking at someone.

He’s sincere. He doesn’t even know you and yet he waits upon you as though your response were one he was to weigh considerably with his agenda. He’s a stranger, only said two things directly to you, and yet you feel weightless in the most minute of his attention.

The rocks of anxiety that were sitting heavily in your stomach for the past month have disappeared and the answer that he waits so intensely for comes rather naturally. It’s the surest you’ve felt in a while. You don't know them at all, aren't even sure if you'll like them, but what would you be other than a fool to not follow the path of certain safety laid out in front of you, disguised as a black-haired boy with the spiky hair? How can you be sure unless you don't see for yourself?

“Yeah,” you sigh out, burdensome weight lifting off your shoulders at the answer, “Can I?”

“Yeah. You can.” He affirms with a nod, the corner of his lips quirking upward. Oikawa, rather befittingly, shouts a cheer, resuming his incessant chatter in throwing an onslaught of questions your way but you’re not listening. Pulled elsewhere you find your gaze being drawn back to the calm and steady boy, with the sea of emerald in his eyes.

“I’m Iwaizumi Hajime, by the way. And that’s Oikawa Tooru.”

“I’m (Y/N).”

“Cool.”

You spend the whole day with them, quickly finding a natural place in their relationship, serving as the happy in-between of the flamboyant nature of Oikawa and the pillar of stone that is Iwaizumi. It’s fun, the most fun you’ve had in the entirety of your move that you find yourself trying to make some kind of excuse to extend the day when the sun starts to set.

But Oikawa has to go home, and so does Iwa, and the disappointment is more than apparent on your face. There’s the unmistakable promise of seeing one another again, that of which was affirmed when Oikawa held out his pinky for you to take and solidify the statement on.

“I can walk you home if you want.” Iwaizumi tells you after you both wave your goodbyes to the other brunet. It’s a godsend, a miracle from the heavens who heard your building plight and decided to spare your jilted mind with some form of comfort.

“Oh, you don’t have to,” you tell him, purely as a formality. Your mother’s lessons of never burdening others kicking into gear at his offer, but you plead, secretly in the deep recesses of your brain that he disagrees. Hope desperately that he’ll take the initiative and stay with you just a moment longer.

He shakes his head, bearing a toothy smile that is missing one of his canines. “I don’t mind. My mom always tells me to make sure girls get home safe.”

Calm, steady, comforting. You selfishly agree before you have half a mind to say otherwise, “Okay. I live this way.”

And as he trails beside you, holding his bike in his hands as he walks at the pace you set, telling you the details about his favorite monster movie, you find yourself incredibly enamored with the short, sweaty boy that hates green tea and loves summertime.

And not for the first time.

You’re thirteen when you realize that you have a terribly, horribly, deeply incessant crush on Iwaizumi Hajime.

It’s lunchtime and while you’re usually quick to eat with the resident bickering duo of Sendai, they’ve ditched you for volleyball practice— and not for the first time. So you sit with your other group of close friends, the ones you made through the conventional school setting, and not because they impulsively adopted you into their routine. They’re the necessary and equal balance to the growing testosterone you religiously spend your weekends with, so ultimately you’re not too upset at being left behind for a sport.

Besides, it’s nice to be surrounded by girls who talk about normal things instead of sweaty violent boys that only talk about volleyball and occasionally the things you like.

Mai, a girl with a short bob that frames her round face, shakes the table with her loud laughter, the curtain of her hair swaying in tune to her joyful movement. She was the first friend you made in this group, and easily the one you’re closest to. The complete opposite of Hajime if her unabashed, frantic excitement is anything to go by. But much like the spaces in this Miyagi heart of yours that’s dedicated to Tooru and Hajime, there’s one for her too. She grabs onto one of your arms and holds it tightly, seeking stability as her melodic laughter rings through your table.

It’s hard not to laugh alongside her.

“Please!” She begs Yua, a blonde girl in the year above you, and wipes her eyes free from the laughter-induced tears, “No more! I’m gonna pee!”

Yua huffs, shrugging her shoulders to say that Mai’s inability to hold her urine was beyond her control, “I’m serious! That’s how I found out Kaito had a crush on me!”

“And what did you do?” You ask, laughter lacing your own words at the tale Yua expertly weaved, describing in excruciating detail how Kaito from your third period wrote a love letter comparing Yua’s lips to that of a whale as if that was somehow a compliment.

“I ran away! What else was I supposed to do?!”

Mai howls with laughter, her body being thrown against yours and her arms flailing with the movements, unable to contain herself. You’re almost identical, finding that you follow Mai’s gesticulation in perfect countering. Where she pushes you left, you move in sync, allowing her to lean her weight on you as you both lose yourself in the story.

For as much seriousness as she tries to implement in her words, the quirking of her lips betray Yua, “Laugh all you want, but wait ‘til this happens to you! Then you’ll get it!”

“I don’t think Mai and I have to worry about that,” you tell her, the remainder of your laughter dying out of your words. Mai snaps upward, her body no longer slumped against yours, and instead of facing you with furrowed brows and an offended expression.

The two friends speak simultaneously, one with indignation and the other with confusion “Why not?”

The pointedness of the question makes it seem as though your words were wrong, a misstep in a direction that you have to apologize for. Regardless of whether or not you know why. “Uh, ‘cause no one likes us like that?”

Mai scoffs, crossing her arms and tilting her nose upwards, “Speak for yourself.”

“Sorry, no one likes me like that. So I don’t have to worry.” You say with a smile punctuating the statement with a scoop of rice into your mouth. It wasn’t a statement meant to be considered deeply, it was a simple fact. There were hardly any thirteen-year-olds looking your way, and even if there were, it wasn’t like your attention was focused on them either. All the boys in school were either too annoying or too stupid.

Except for Hajime. He was the only tolerable one. Oikawa fell into the “too annoying” category. But you still loved him—sometimes.

Yua and Mai share a glance, a fleeting look before they look back at you, “You’re joking, right?”

You look up from your food to meet their furrowed stares, “What?”

They share another glance, Mai answering Yua’s silent question with a shrug of her shoulders. You’re completely left in the dark. “Wait, what’s going on?”

“Okay, so what if,” Yua begins, the familiar teasing lilt that you’ve widely associated with the blonde returning, stressing on the ‘if’, “someone did like you. What would you do?”

They both look at you with waggling eyebrows, like they’ve cornered you into the exact hypothetical they want you to be in. While this isn’t necessarily an unfamiliar place to be in, it is a weird one, considering you and boys have never really been the topic of conversation unless Iwa and Oikawa were somehow brought up. But your friendship with them was well known and not exactly hidden at all. It wasn’t sensational, nor was it the topic of gossip. Neither was the fact that you aren’t exactly the kind of girl the boys of Kitagawa First were looking at if they were even looking at girls.

“But no one likes me like that.”

“Answer the question.”

You gesture in exasperation, “I don’t know! I’m not really into anyone like that, so I guess I’d say no?”

The two girls pause again, sharing another look.

“Okay, can you two stop that?”

Mai speaks up this time, almost disbelieving, “You really don’t like anyone?”

“Am I supposed to?”

Yua sings, “Not even Iwaizumiii?”

The chopsticks that you held deftly in your hands go limp and a straight shot of shock runs down your spine. Time stands still in this cramped cafeteria and it feels like your head has been dunked into a bucket of cold water, halting the train of thought and highlighting every possible exit in this building.

The red lights of panic have turned on in your brain and they’re screaming at you to run.

“I— I don’t— what are you guys talking about?”

Your two best friends, who now resemble Satan’s assistants more than anything remotely positive to you, share their third unspoken glance, and you’re about to lose it.

“So,” Yua starts again, tearing her sly eyes from Mai’s excited ones, “You do like him?”

Code red. Abandon ship. Abort. R-U-N.

“No! He— I— We’re just friends!”

“Oh my god!” Mai slams her hands on the surface of the table, her brown eyes boring into your widened ones as she leans over to invade your personal space and poke your chest.

“You like him!”

The brain that is usually so quick with an excuse, trained to be sharp-witted and smart from years of intense teasing from Tooru and Hajime, suddenly feels like mush in your head. Ooey, gooey mush that can’t come up with anything but stuttering, “N-No” at the idea of having some romantic inclination towards Hajime. The best friend you hang out with every weekend; The boy that always walks you home and always makes sure your comments are heard; The spiky-haired idiot with a sea of emerald in his eyes that you always seem to drown in.

But, that’s not— that doesn’t mean— No.

You don’t like Hajime like that. He’s just a really really good friend. That you enjoy spending time with. That makes you feel comfortable with just a single look. The friend that you always want around, regardless of the kind of day. Yeah. That’s it.

Hajime is just that kind of person.

Yua gives an unconvinced hum and taps her bright pink nails on the table surface, “When you think about another girl liking him, do you get jealous?”

Mai backs up from your face to give a wide smile at the blonde, pointing at her wickedly and almost shouting, “Ooh! Good question!”

“Thanks, I read it in my sister’s magazine.”

Mai turns back, almost touching your nose with hers, “Well? Do you?”

The “no” is on the tip of your tongue as an instinctual defense against this personal interrogation, but it doesn’t come out. Partly because of the mush of your brain but also because you know any denial of that question just simply isn’t true; Because when Saran followed Hajime around all day in grade six, you distinctly remember being in a foul mood for a while.

A mood that could only be fixed when Hajime indirectly affirmed that he did not like her.

Oh god.

You like Hajime.

You like his stupid face and his stupid laugh and the stupid way he teases you and the stupid way he makes you feel.

Your friends laugh in your face for a solid minute while you hang your head in your hands, certain that your life was completely over with the new revelation. Yua is the instigator, teasing you relentlessly over the silent confession while Mai asserts that this is the beginning of a fairytale.

She says it with such conviction that you’re almost inclined to believe her until reason kicks in, and the shamefulness of the situation kicks in. You push it down, fine with keeping the acknowledgment exactly where it is, right under your thumb. That is until Oikawa finds out about it and then suddenly, it’s no longer in your control.

You’re fourteen when he corners you after school. He’s walking you home, taking Hajime’s usual role when said boy and subject of your plight had to stay home with the sick.

You don’t think he’s going to bring it up, hardly aware he even knows about it, but he does making you choke on your spit and trip over a crack in the sidewalk. He clutches his stomach in a guffaw.

“Did you really think you could hide it from me?” Tooru teases, his finger poking at your heated cheek that you quickly swat away.

“I’m not hiding anything, Tooru,” you mutter, keeping your head turned downwards. If Oikawa even sees a smidgen of embarrassment he would never let you live it down.

“Oh, please. You’re so easy to read, especially when Iwa-chan is around. You’re all, ‘oh Iwa, you’re so smart and funny. I want to be with you forever. Mwah, mwah, mwah!’” His hands are interwoven beside his head and he attempts a poor, high-pitched imitation of your voice. Again, Oikawa Tooru belongs in the “too annoying” category that most eighth-grade boys find themselves in.

You lift your left leg, thrusting your shin outward to kick the taller boy in his behind, a move all too familiar. Really, Oikawa should have seen it coming, having had it done to him so often by Iwaizumi. He’s too swept up in the antics of teasing, though, that it surprises him and the pain in his bottom is sharp. His hands cover the stinging area.

“Ow, (Y/N)!”

“That’s what you get for being stupid.”

“See! You even act him like him!”

You raise your fist upward and he raises his hands in defense, cowering at the threat of more pain, “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

He lowers his hands, one eye closed and the other peeking from behind his lowering fingers, “Gosh, so violent. I’m only trying to help!”

“I don’t need help.” You grumble.

You continue your trek onward, desperate to put as much distance between yourself and this nightmare of a conversation. But it’s not that simple. There are now three people that have realized the truth of your crush in less than a year— all of which are your closest friends. It’s only a matter of time before the friend above them all realizes it too.

Worst off, only a matter of time before someone tells him.

You turn towards Tooru with a speed that has him flinching and thrusting his hands upward for protection again. A yelp echoes around the empty street and was it not for the intensity behind your desperation, you probably would have laughed.

“Tooru.” There’s a rasp in your voice, one that you aren’t exaggerating. It makes Oikawa uncomfortable hearing such a serious depth to your previously annoyed cadence. In his continuously growing height, he stares down at you, fear crumpling his face.

“Don’t say my name like that—”

“You cannot tell Hajime.”

He straightens his posture out, hand rubbing the back of his neck. A brow is raised quizzically, “Isn’t that the whole point of having a crush? So that you can eventually tell that person about it?”

It’s not like you expect him to understand, hell, you don’t even understand it yourself. All you know is that Hajime cannot know about it; There are too many factors, too many problems that can happen. Besides, you’re sure it’s just a tiny crush, one that will go away after a couple of months.

And even if it didn’t, you still wouldn’t be able to tell him. Because you’ve been best friends for four years now, and if there was anything remotely remarkable about you, you’re sure something would’ve happened already. Because Hajime is strong, decisive, and steady. If he wants something, he goes for it; And if he wanted you, in any capacity like the way you want him, he would’ve said something.

But he doesn’t because you’re his best friend. Nothing is outstanding about you, nothing that would make you more than just the girl he’s friends with. Nothing that would make you any different from “just one of the guys”.

He would never see you as anything but.

So, it’s just easier to have Hajime as a friend than to risk it all for a likely rejection. You could swallow the feelings, bury them deep inside of you for the rest of time. It would be significantly easier than never talking to him again because you couldn’t be a big girl and not make things awkward.

You try to tell Oikawa as much, “It’s— I just— It would be easier if he didn’t know. It’ll go away soon.”

The brunet tilts his head to the side, kind of like a pouty puppy. When he’s not being a teasing butthead, he’s rather gentle with you, considerate of your emotions, and above all, eager to understand.

“Do you want it to go away?”

“Like I said, it would just be easier.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

A quiet settles between the two of you and it feels like it’s oceans wide. You, stranded out at sea in the terrorizing waves of emotions, and he, the lighthouse built on the rocks. Tall and fixed, beckoning you towards his stable ground of reason. It’s a brief reminder that when Oikawa tries, he’s not that annoying. He’s rather kind and empathetic.

“Do you want Hajime to like you?”

The deep cocoa eyes dig into you and the waves crash even more ferociously around you.

Cotton dries up your mouth, and the ache that always pains your heart whenever you think about Hajime returns in full force, “He never will.”

Oikawa huffs out a breath, back becoming imperceptibly straighter while he crosses his arms. It’s hard to imagine him as anything but that sweaty boy you met on the playground, but he stands before you a giant, body filling out from all the volleyball practice and the baby features of his face evening out to become the handsome boy girls were starting to see him as. He radiates his kind of steadiness, one different from Hajime, but equally as comforting.

It’s admirable— he’s admirable— when it's not pinned against you.

“And how do you know?”

“Tooru,” you sigh, exhaustion suddenly creeping up your shoulders along with the overwhelming urge to cry, “Please.”

You don’t feel like explaining all the intricacies of your perceived inadequacy and thank the gods above he’s a good enough friend to know when to stop prying, “Fine, fine. I’ll leave it alone. For now.”

You stare up at him, searching his face for any notion of deceit or subterfuge, “You promise you won’t say anything?”

“Yeah, yeah,” He waves his hand in dismissal, rolling his eyes in that way that portrays annoyance but the love is there. He understands you, at least.

You hold out your pinky for him, “Pinky promise?”

“What are we, ten?”

You hold your finger out further, almost waving it in his face. It’s the staple of trust in your friendship, instituted early on between you and him, and only you and him. He can’t back out now.

He takes it with a sigh of his own, huffing out his breath, and twisting his long, slender finger with yours. You shake his hand in affirmation, letting go only when you feel comfortable in the validity of his promise and resuming your walk home.

He throws an arm over your shoulder, squeezing you tightly to his body, “Eventually you’re going to have to say something.”

“I know.”

“I hope you know I’m never letting you live this down.”

“It’s like you want me to hit you again.”

Maybe he’s right. Maybe in the future, when you’re more comfortable with the fact that it’s your best friend of all people that gives you butterflies in your stomach, you’ll do something about it. But not right now, not when he spends all his time in volleyball and especially not when you were barely confident in yourself. Or maybe, it’ll go away, and you can look back on this as a funny memory rather than anything serious.

You’re fifteen when you finally accept the circumstances and become resigned to it. Finally understanding that your crush is more than just a crush, but knowing full well that that’s all you can let it be.

Hajime sits on the floor, surrounded by your regular friends plus a couple of others at Oikawa’s birthday party when he says it. You’re not supposed to hear it from your place in the kitchen, but you do and it’s a dagger to both heart and confidence. He’s confirmed everything you knew and quelled any potential rebuttal of thoughts Mai or Tooru have planted in your head.

You were stupid to think Hajime could ever see you as anything more than the girl he’s just friends with.

Your appetite quickly dissipates and you have to work extra hard to make sure pure despair doesn’t show on your face. Especially when Oikawa hears it too and he makes that face that looks like he wants to give you a hug, which makes everything ten times harder.

A kid named Matsukawa is the one that asks. You don’t blame him. He’s only fifteen, after all, asking what normal fifteen-year-olds normally talk about.

“What about (Y/N)? Would you date her?”

Hajime scoffs, a laugh on his lips as though it were the weirdest question he’s ever heard.

“She’s my best friend. That would be like dating my sister. I don’t like her like that.”

You’re fifteen and you’ve become resigned to it all, because it’s better to have Hajime as a friend, than to never have him at all. Because you would never have him; At least not in the way you want.

You don’t blame him for that either.

You cry about it later on, after the party is over and after you deny Hajime’s insistence to walk you home. He has a weird look on his face when you tell him you’ll be fine, your house is only a few blocks away. He wants to fight you on it, can see the argument forming it in that storm of green. It’s a shitty feeling to deny him so blatantly, but you really can’t stomach being around him at the moment. Not when your heart pangs longingly for him and your insecurities increase tenfold at the confirmation of your inadequacy.

Not when all of this is happening at once, showing as clear as day on your face, and he sees it. Worst of all, not when he wants to solve it, hardly understanding that he’s the cause of it.

His eyes narrow, staring intently as he studies your features. The scrutiny is uncomfortable and if he does stares a second longer the tears will fall.

“Did… something happen during the party?” Hajime asks hesitantly. There’s a whirlwind of possibilities crossing his mind, all indicating rather unsavory and horrifying ideas that have his worry bubbling beneath his skin. You’re barely meeting his gaze, hands clasped tightly before you and body way too stiff. The complete opposite of your normal demeanor, especially around him.

Usually so open, so vibrant. And here you stand before him, the dark of night surrounding you and the fluorescent glow of the streetlamps casting a ghoulish light on your face, exaggerating your dejected features more prominently.

He’s heard of worst-case scenarios when girls and boys get together, something mentioned in passing when his mother was on the phone with his aunt. He never really thought much about it, considering he would never do something like that and he doesn’t hang around many girls, to begin with for something like that to be an immediate concern..

In this stark contrast of a moment, however, he’s briefly reminded of the fact that he so often tends to forget. You’re a girl; A living, breathing, pretty girl. Everyone likes you, would be fools not to. And while he would never allow himself or anyone else to force themselves upon you, you weren’t with him for the whole party. Disappearing for a brief moment after he saw you enter the kitchen. The idea of something like that— something that horrible— happening to you under his nose has all of his instincts on fight mode, forget the flight. A shattering of the innocence he was so previously impervious to.

The implication is clear in his voice accompanied with the fear-stricken features, so you can hardly miss what he means.

“Did— Did anyone…?” His voice cracks and he hurriedly tries to clear it up with the clearing of his throat, but you heard it. It happens often when he’s wrestling with an onslaught of emotions, trying his hardest to remain calm and clear-headed and focused that sometimes his voice just gives out. Also, puberty.

The act doesn’t matter though, not when he’s silently amping himself up to fight someone if you were touched inappropriately. He would win; He’s been in a couple of fights before, usually off school property, he doesn’t mind getting into another one. Not if it was for you. And he would win; Would make sure of that.

The tussle for calm is transparent on his face. Lips struggling to stay in a closed, neutral line rather than the frown he has to hold back. His fists clench, blunt nails digging into the skin of his palms to alleviate the growing anger, only to prove futile. He so badly wants to grab you by the shoulders, shake you furiously, ask what the hell is going on because you’re never like this—

He doesn’t. He knows better. Even if the suspense is driving him up the wall and the tension that encapsulates the empty street is thick and choking him.

Finally, you say something.

“No, Haji,” you say softly, “No one did anything to me.”

It’s what Iwaizumi wants to hear; Should be ecstatic to know that you are physically unharmed, free from the taint that comes with a foreign touch, the one he’s intent to protect you from. Your voice is too quiet though, and the smile you give him is too small for him to feel any modicum of ease. You're lying. Someone did something.

“I’m fine, really!” You try again, amping up the energy to convince him. It falls flat.

“(Y/N).” That spiky head of hair tips forward, pushing himself in your averting line of sight, refusing to let you hide from him. He’s taller now, finally taller than you. While his hair is still that fluff of mess on his head, his eyes are still that piercing green that can always read you like a book and his favorite season is still summer, only this time he no longer enjoys going to the park, but instead the beach.

He’s the same Hajime you fell in love with and the remainder is enough to cause a lump swell in your throat.

“What are you hidi—”

“Iwa-chan!”

The familiar melodious voice rings out in the empty street, its owner sauntering his way over to your departing figures. There’s that recognizable air of flowering confidence rolling off of him like a humid heat and the sly shining of his pearly whites that serves as a buffer from the thick air of tension between you and Haj— Iwaizumi.

Just, Iwaizumi. No added affection.

There's magic in Oikawa’s stroll, you’re sure of it. It looks perfectly coincidental, like he just so happened to stumble upon a tense scene, instead of the very much needed and purposeful intervention for his emotionally crushed best friend and worry-fueled other best friend.

And they call him the idiot.

He sighs that flowery breath of his, throwing his arm around Iwa’s shoulders and watching the desperation that filled your gaze wash away with relief at his intrusion. Iwa’s confusion only seems to increase, but truthfully, Oikawa isn’t too concerned with his hard-headed friend. He’s really only keen on getting you out of there— out to safety and away from the source of your heartbreak.

“Iwa-chan, you have to go set up the movie player. I have no idea how to work it.”

“I’ve shown you how to do it four times, Tooru.”

“But it’s so much easier when you do it. Don’t worry, I’ll walk our precious flower home while you set up for our sleepover.”

Iwaizumi hesitates, his eyes bouncing from the self-assured smile of Oikawa to your downturned gaze. There’s something wrong, he knows it. But it’s obviously a secret he isn’t allowed into.

He won’t pry, he’s never been one to beg for secrets— never been one to want secrets told to him at all. However, there’s a particular sting at knowing that it’s you who’s hiding something and refusing to tell him. That there’s something Oikawa is aware about, that he isn’t allowed to know.

It’s not his business, he surmises. You’re not his business. He swallows that bitter pill, accepting Oikawa’s offer with a brief nod. He’s not happy, that’s plain to see, but he knows better than to insert himself where he’s not wanted.

Calm, steady, comfortable. Iwaizumi will fight for what he wants, but not when it hurts you in the process.

He bids you a brief goodbye, voice tight and rigid, clearly displaying his dissatisfaction but accepting it nonetheless. He doesn’t even look back at you. It’s what you want, you suppose. Some distance from him for your benefit, so you can at least try and forget about how you feel; Save yourself from the devastation of falling even deeper in love with him.

He enters Oikawa’s house. It’s a place you’ve been many times, slept over on many occasions yet, when Iwaizumi crosses the threshold with a strain on his shoulders and a grimace on his face, you can’t help but wonder if he’s finally going someplace that you can’t follow. If you’ve spent all these years pining over him, wondering if you would ever be enough for him, only to push him away into an area of no return.

Oikawa doesn’t give you a moment to think long about it before he’s ushering you away from the crime scene where your uncontrollable and childish feelings have brutally injured a fraying friendship and guiding you home. He talks the entire time, about everything and nothing, and you’re rather grateful for the background noise. To finally think about something other than your broken heart and Iwaizumi’s betrayed face.

He leaves you at your door with the promise that things will get better, that it won’t hurt so much, and that he’s always there for you. He places a sweet kiss on the crown of your head, turning his back with a final wave and leaving you alone with your thoughts. The promise of meeting one another again is unspoken, instinctive. You know deep down, though, it’ll be different from here on out. You’ll have to be more careful, more guarded with the things you say and do.

You wonder if Iwaizumi has as much trouble sleeping that night as you do.

(He does. He doesn’t sleep at all.)

Things do get better, which is a blessed curse. The tension eventually resolves after a couple of weeks of tiptoeing around each other. Normality returns in full-swing and you’re able to talk to Hajime without the overwhelming feeling of guilt and need to explain everything; If he holds any issues about what happened that night, he doesn’t mention it, following your lead and letting the friendship return to normal.

The problem lies in the fact that Oikawa was ultimately right, and he makes a point to show that he’s right. That things did get better, and the fragmentation of your splintering relationship with the boy you love eventually gets patched up.

Life moves on.

The feelings don’t go away, but you get better at managing them. It’s significantly easier to push the pining down and not think too much about any passing romantic comments in school that pair you and Iwaizumi together; Nor do you think twice about the harmless flirting that occasionally comes your way. You dish it back, continuing the joking nature of the friendship and after a while, it doesn’t hurt so bad. You exit the stages of puberty and things don’t feel as hectic as they once were.

The turbulent waves of emotions finally die down to a steady roll, and for a while, you’re able to float. It’s safe, peaceful, exactly how you want it to stay.

That is until you’re seventeen, almost eighteen, and Iwaizumi asks you to be his fake girlfriend. The waves pick up steam and you’re drowning again. You have the girls of Aoba Johsai to thank for that.

This time though, you’re determined to protect yourself. The anxiety of it all starts to settle in between your shoulders and instead of falling victim to the whims of an unsuspecting Iwaizumi once again, the urge to protect yourself and your pathetic emotions takes precedence. You will not be reduced down to the unconfident, love-sick girl you once were; You’ve worked too hard to do that. You matter more than Iwaizumi’s stupid girl problem.

It’s why you don’t think twice when you blurt it out after agreeing to help.

“We need a contract.”

“A contract?” Hajime parrots back, broad arms crossed over his equally broad chest and the intense training you’ve instilled in yourself to not stare at him meets its limitations, lest you stoop down to the level of the girls he’s so desperate to evade. He’s grown so much, physically and personally, that it's hard to not look at him. You force yourself to glance around the crowded cafe, look anywhere but his veiny arms, and instead replace your view with the small restaurant you two frequent every Monday— the only day he has off from volleyball practice.

It’s a small establishment that sells teas and noodles, a pleasant find to make one day when the both of you were hungry pre-teens and full of time on your hands. It’s usually rather empty during this time as it’s just out of the line of sight to avoid the after-school rush of students, but today the line extends outside of the door, all attendees eager to have a taste of miso ramen and pushing against bodies to do so. The people behind you are respectful enough to give you as much space as one can afford in the cramped venue, but you end up still having to press yourself into the stiff body of the boy— no, man— beside you.

You have the decency to look at least a little uncomfortable in the tightness of the situation, but Hajime shows nothing. Whether it’s because he doesn’t even care that your chest is bracing against his arm or he’s too distracted with the complicatedness of his “girl” problem, his face betrays no embarrassment at the closeness. No frustration, no discomfort, not even annoyance. He merely exists, dealing with your body pressed against his as if this were a regular occurrence and not an awkward preemption to the farce that you’ve stupidly agreed to. This would surely haunt you for the rest of your years.

This man of steel, this monolith of lean, corded muscle, was going to be your “boyfriend” for the next couple of weeks. You would be lucky if this arrangement even lasted for that long considering the confession of pure unadulterated adoration is crawling up the canal of your throat and tearing the fabric of your skin, sticking a middle finger at the rational parts of your brain trying desperately to hold it back.

Your fate is signed, knowing full and well that in your inability to deny Hajime— especially when he’s so desperate, which is a rarity in and of itself— you’ve willingly agreed to have your dignity and confidence stripped from your person and your feelings thrown in a loop for the sake of his sanity.

It’s annoying. Every potential hypothetical plays itself in high definition across the theatre of your mind and each one ends with you being brutally rejected once again. There’s no way you could handle something like that again, no matter how much you’ve matured.

This is a bad idea, and you need to tell him that.

But then the sight of pleading jades enters your vision and you distinctly remember the permanent frown that etched itself on Hajime’s face these past three months. Remember how the feelings of deep discomfort forced him to confide in you on a late-night phone call when sleep evaded him and he detailed the dread he felt at the prospect of going to school the next school day.

If your mouth even opened a fraction to breathe, you’re sure the “I’m in love with you and have been since sixth grade” will come tumbling out, but even the fear of that happening doesn’t overpower the overwhelming desire to help the man you’re madly in love with.

There’s a limit to what would be forsaken in the name of Iwaizumi Hajime’s happiness, but your sanity isn’t it.

The situation worsens when the subtle shifting of the patrons behind you throws you off balance and forces you impossibly closer to him. The shuffling of feet knocks into your own, tilting you off balance despite your leaning against Hajime. A rebuttal is on the tip of your tongue ready to be released in rapid-fire when Hajime beats you to it.

He quickly wraps his arm around your waist, allowing your unsteady feet to find balance against his lean body of stone, clutching you tightly to his side as if the accidental push against you were a personal offense.

The protective nature that so often lies dormant in his personality rears its head forward and you swear your heart stops beating altogether.

“Easy,” he mutters, a layer of strict dismay interweaving in his words as he casts a pointed side glare at the two boys standing behind you. You hardly hear it, much too occupied with trying not to drown in the sudden flooding of his cologne in your nostrils.

Musk and spice. His usual scent, but even more addicting when it’s this close.

This is a bad idea. This is a horrible, bad, awful idea. Bad, bad, bad idea.

You have to end this. You won’t survive this.

“C-contract.” You, somehow, manage to spit out, shaking your head free from the waft of his scent and the strength of his arm across your back.

Okay, not necessarily ending this but protecting yourself. Yeah, that’s it. Because there is no way you want him to keep acting like this, no. You’re just doing this to help and totally not to selfishly indulge in the delight of being his, even if it is fake.

He tears his narrowed eyes away from the boys behind you to glance at you, the remnants of disapproval flickering in the sea of green that you swear only evens out when he looks at you, “Right. What’s in this contract?”

“The, uh, basics,” you begin, voice slowly finding its footing after the intense whiplash you just experienced. You're surprised you can even form words that aren’t resembling proclamations of desire, “What we can and can’t do, how long this is for, and so on.”

“That’s a good idea,” He breathes out. The line shifts forward, and the cashier finally enters the field of view. With a quick recoil, as though his skin were burned by the action, he removes his hand from around your waist. The warmth of his arm rescinds with it, and that thirteen-year-old girl that has fantasized for years about this, whines in desperation. You quickly tell her to shut up.

He clears his throat, awkwardness filling the cramped and stale air, “Uh, sorry. About that.”

He avoids your eyes and you quickly look around too, “It’s fine.”

A silence ensues. It’s not uncomfortable, per se, but it’s a far cry from the brief pauses in conversation that usually occur between the two of you. The comfortable silences that occur naturally between friends of five years. You wonder if you should address it, address the fact that if you two were to pull this off— and pull it off well— there were going to be more moments when he was going to have to touch you like that.

He was going to have to hold your hand and give you frequent hugs and actually act like he was in love with you. Act.

You swallow at the prospect. Not like that would be hard for you to do, you think rather pitifully.

There are two more couples in front of you when you say, “I’d like to institute the first provision.”

Hajime quirks an eyebrow, his lips lifting upward, an obvious sign of gratefulness at being able to brush over that weird moment of physicality. He doesn’t know why it was instinctual, or why he even thought that placing his hand that low around your waist would be a good idea. But, he did it; And it’s quite the revelation when he realizes he didn’t mind it.

At all.

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?” He glances at you to his right, the teasing smile gracing your features and the recognizable glint of mischief in your eyes.

“You have to buy all of the food we eat together.”

He scoffs out a laugh, shaking his head, “I already buy all of our food.”

“I always pay you back!”

“You owe me at least three-thousand yen.”

“Okay, an addendum to provision one.”

“Shoot.”

“You buy all of our food and forgive my debts.”

He laughs louder tilting his head back as his teeth peek from his pink lips. It’s the bark of laughter that swells your beating heart with confidence. You may not have him romantically, but there’s no denial of the fact that he likes you in his life, especially when you can make him laugh like that, “I’m starting to think this contract is only beneficial to you.”

It’s your turn to raise an eyebrow at him, the body still tucked tightly beside his as feet shuffle forward in the line, “In case you’ve forgotten, I’m doing you a huge favor.”

“Trust me, I haven’t forgotten.” A silence befalls again, this one not as tense as before. A small smile plays on his lips and there’s a sincerity behind his gaze that reminds you of how appreciative he really is for this. Hajime isn’t sure he’ll ever be able to repay you for stepping in and helping him in the most intimate of ways that you most likely would rather not do. There wasn’t ever an expressed interest in the dating scene from you, always denying the occasional confession that came your way and never thinking twice about the romantic holidays that come and go.

He wonders why because if you tried, you’d have every guy within a ten-foot radius begging for your attention. Surely one of them would be worthy of your love. (He doesn’t agree though. There’s no one in this world who could ever be worthy of you. Not when you smile so brightly and tease so enticingly. No one would ever deserve that part of you. No one that he would ever approve of, anyway..) He’s not dumb in realizing that your willingness to engage in a romantic relationship with him— even if it is a fake one— is a large deviation from the norm. It’s not something to be taken lightly.

So, he owes you. Big time. Whatever you want, whatever you put in this contract, he’ll do. He’ll be the best boyfriend you’ve ever had.

(Fake boyfriend, he has to remind himself. He swallows down the disappointment.)

“Thank you.” he breaks the silence, rubbing the back of his heating neck, “Again. For doing this for me. I don’t—”

“Ah, ah!” You interrupt, holding your hand upwards and wagging a finger at him, “I haven’t done anything yet, so don’t start thanking me so soon. Who knows? I might sabotage this whole thing, be the worst girlfriend you could ever imagine.”

The couple in front of you finishes their order, stepping to the side to allow the both of you forward. You step up, dragging him with you but you don’t miss the low throaty chuckle he emits when he says, “You like me too much to do that.”

He pats the top of your head, smoothing the fly-away hairs with a wink and a sly smile, and then, like nothing even happened, he steps up to the counter, taking the initiative and placing your usual orders. There’s both too much nuance and not enough to his statement to determine if you should be scared at his words. Does he know? Did Oikawa tell him?

You don’t even notice when he puts both food items on one bill.

It’s then that you remember, with little humor like someone who’s forgotten a necessary step to an important project, that while you’ve done a lot of growing and building these past four years to fortify the walls of your heart, so has he. He’s stronger, more confident, more sturdy.

Fourteen-year-old you built the walls for a fourteen-year-old Iwaizume Hajime. She didn’t even think to consider the damage eighteen-year-old Ace and Vice-Captain of the Seijoh Volleyball Team could do. Not with a spike those strong arms could make and a sea of green that you still drown in.

The first large crack in the barriers has been made.

He turns to face you upon finishing the order, stepping to the side and bracing his body against the far wall of the restaurant to allow the next customers to the counter. That damn sly smile is still on his face, and it’s then you realize that he has to know. He has to know what he’s doing, or at least know that it’s doing something to you.

“So,” he tucks his hands into the pockets of his uniform pants, biceps bulging at the action “tell me about this contract, sweet girlfriend of mine.”

end notes: god damn glad that’s over. what did yall think?? too much? not enough? lemme know! i love reading all of your tags and comments, it fills me with such happiness :))))

tag list: @bruh-kill-me @owlnymph @airybnb @yukiilu-personal @cathwritestragediesnotsins @berna-dette

#haikyuu iwazumi #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi x you #iwaizumi hajime x you #my writing #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you

82 notes · View notes

simpsiren · 4 years

Text

sticky notes: the story

mark lee x reader

introduction

main masterlist

description. you use sticky notes to get into contact with your soulmate.

genre. soulmate au, high school au, strangers to lovers au

warnings. nonee

a/n. so some people requested for a full story of this so here it is! i really liked making this because the concept is just so cute cudndn oh and i did include the same idea as what i did in my previous post but i had to change it a little so that it would fit the plot. this is a really really long ff since its a slow burn typa thing so please try to stick with me on this one HAHA anyways enjoyy! :D

“you actually believe that?”

you lift your head up from your notes to look at soyoung. she nods her head and hum eagerly. you rub your temples from seeing her respond. “i do believe soulmates exist. but sticky notes to talk to them? what’s social media for then? and how is it even scientifically possible?” you question soyoung, bringing your eyes down as you continue to do your homework.

“that’s the beauty of soulmates, ray!” soyoung whines. you shake your head. “you’re dumb to believe it without confirming the information with other relevant sources.” you mutter out bluntly. you hear soyoung letting out a ‘tsk’. “here you go again being a history student. i swear im glad i never took it.” you scoff and slam your pen on the table gently.

“excuse me, woman! at least i dont have to memorise the whole textbook and only having 5 pages of content coming out in the exam.” you stick your tongue out playfully to tease soyoung. “i cant get over the fact that valcanos didn’t come out eventhough i memorised so much for it.”

the both of you laugh, knowing that the two of you can never stop debating on whether history or geography is the better subject.

“ray complete your homework at home. we cant stay in the classroom for long you know?” soyoung stands up to get to her seat, which is 2 rows down yours since you were sitting right at the back. you liked sitting at the back. it allowed you to always be able to use your phone in case you get bored in class. you still cant believe that your teachers think you’re a good and obedient student. you figured they only assumed that due to your high grades.

you sigh “that’s true.” you turn around to grab your back that was hanging in your chair and start packing your materials. once you were done, you grab the class key and walk over to soyoung’s seat, waiting for her to finish packing. you notice soyoung has finish packing and went to switch off the lights. you allow soyoung to step out first before you close the door behind you and lock the classroom door.

you and soyoung walked down the hallway silently, you were looking out the window to watch the sunset while soyoung had her eyes on her feet. only your footsteps could be heard as almost everyone has left the school grounds except for some teachers who were working late. the school normally closes at 7pm and you’re walking out at 6:50. to break the silence, soyoung opens her mouth to start a conversation.

“okay if you dont believe me why dont you try it yourself? like write a simple introduction to your soulmate.” you raise an eyebrow as you shove your hands into the front pockets of your mom jeans. “why dont you do it?” you fought back as you huff. soyoung bites the inside of her cheek as a moment of silence passes for her to think of an answer.

“because i believe it. and you do not. so you should try it.” you smacked soyoung’s arm, making her flinch back and shouting a loud ‘ouch’. you roll your eyes, knowing you didn’t hit her hard and she was just overreacting. “brilliant excuse,so. but if its going to make you stop talking about it, i might as well.” soyoung face lit up as she jumps happily and starts skipping ahead of you. you laugh and pull the handle at back of her bag to keep her explosion of excitement to the minimum.

“you owe me brown sugar milk tea. large.” you taunted. soyoung waves her hand lazily. “i’ll buy you one after school tomorrow. but you better update me during math.”

you wanted to say how you could just text soyoung to update her, but you remembered the fact that soyoung’s mother took away her phone since she didn’t do well for this year’s midterms. although to you, soyoung’s grades were decent. unfortunately for her, soyoung has to live up to her asian mom’s high expectations. the thought of this made you want to frown, but you showed a bright smile regardless as the two of you finally made it to the school gate, waving to each other and bidding farewell before walking down opposite paths.

once you arrived at home, you took out your phone from your back pocket. you saw a notification from your mother saying that your parents would be home late. you shrug your shoulders as you walk to your room. “as always.” you breathed out.

you did your normal routine of showering and eating leftover dinner that you needed to heat up at the couch while you completed one episode of the anime series you were so hooked on. you continue watching but with the amount of homework you have, you might finish them all by midnight if you dont slack.

you turned off the tv and washed your plate before heading into your room. as you close the door behind you, your eyes immediately went to your desk, which was pretty messed up since you had a test to study for yesterday that you completely weren’t prepared for and had to squeeze in as much information as you can. hence, the scattering of notes and textbooks.

you stroll over to your desk and sat down. you take out your homework from your back which was beside the desk. looking at the stack of homework, you groan in despair as shove it to the back of the desk till it hit the wall. “ah fuck it! im just going to ask kun for help.” you admitted your defeat depsite thinking you would be able to gain some energy from your dinner. you also thought about how you’ve done your homework in the morning plenty of time so i shouldnt be a problem unless kun doesn’t offer his help.

you jump to your bed and lay down, bringing your phone out and immediately start scrolling through instagram. as you swiped your finger up to look at the posts of the people you follow, you stop at one. a picture of a couple who met through the sticky note theory. or so they claim. your thumbs hover over the screen as your eyes look up to the ceiling, starting to remember what soyoung asked to do to get your bubble tea.

yoy tap your index finger on the side of your phone as you constantly started to think whether you should do it or not. you’ve heard the rumours. but are they even true? the more you thought about it, the more intriguing the idea got. but at the same time, you also thought of how stupid it sounded and was probably made to fool people.

after contemplating and having in a debate in your head that felt like forever, you finally place your phone down beside you and take a deep breath. “ill do it.” you groan to yourself, letting curiosity take over your other feelings.

you gather up your strength to stand up from your bed and walk over to your desk. you push all the papers and textbooks aside, grabbing a yellow sticky notepad from your stationery organiser. you had other colours too like pink and purple, but you figured that you should go with the classic.

pulling out a random pen that was laying in between the pages of one of your textbooks, you tilt your head to the side as you start thinking of what to write, unconsciously biting the end of your pen in the process.

you bite the side of your cheek and shrug, deciding to go with the plan of writing whatever that comes to your mind.

um hi? i dont even know if you’re going to see this. its funny, really. i heard a rumour that you can communicate with your soulmate through sticky notes. it’s probably just fake news and im writing to a nobody. that would honestly be embarrassing but it’ll be like love letters.. to myself(?) or my soulmate. write back? haha

you read over what you wrote an endless amount of times, thinking if you should make changes. you groan and immediately stick the sticky note onto your wall, giving up on giving second thoughts about what you call this ridiculousness.

you went about your night, forgetting you have left the sticky note on the wall. as you were on you bed scrolling through tumblr at 2 in the morning, you hear something. it sounded like a piece of paper had fallen from your desk.

unable to see in complete darkness, you turn on the flashlight from your phone and walk around your room, trying to find whatever it is that fell. it didn’t take you long to find a small yellow sticky note that you accidentally stepped on.

you pick it up, remembering that you wrote on the sticky note and thought that it was yours. however, once you were able to get a closer look, you noticed that the words on the sticky note have changed. so has the handwriting.

holy shit. i dont know what is this. but apparently a sticky note appeared on my wall saying i have a soulmate. my friends told me i should write back because of some rumour. so here i am trying. hi im mark. i dont know your name, but hope you’ll tell me once you recieve this. you’re in luck because apparently the rumour is true. im just as crepped out as you are.

you froze in your spot. your fingers shaking as you read the note again. you scratch your head. being too tired and unable to think straight at 2 in the morning, you place the sticky note on your desk and went back to bed to play with your phone. you soon forget about the fact that your soulmate has replied to your message that you have written on your sticky note.

as you got ready for the next period which was math, soyoung immediately runs over to you, dragging the chair from the desk beside you and taking a seat. you flinch a little when you suddenly see her close to you.

“so did you try it?!” soyoung asks, her voice filled with enthusiasm . you brushed a few pieces of hair behind your ear, nodding your head as you take out your textbook from under the desk. “did you get a reply then?”

your mind started to take you back to the mysterious encounter that you had last night. “mhm.” you reply simply. “though the only thing i remember because it seems to be the only relevant information is that the person’s name is mark.” soyoung gasped loudly, making you crease your forehead as you watch her overreacting again.

“your soulmate’s name is mark then.” soyoung concludes, folding her arms confidently as if she made a great discovery. you laugh, rolling your eyes sarcastically. “isnt it obvious?” soyoung frowns fakely.

your mouth gapes open as you hit soyoung’s arm lightly. “buy me my milk tea!” you demanded with a wide smile. soyoung places her notebook on your table and nods constantly. “i will you addict.” she groans. you happily say thank you as your teacher comes into the classroom and class began.

“what are you going to do about it now though?” as you recieved the question from soyoung, you kept silent for a moment, giving time to think of an answer.

“ill write something back? i dont know.. ill have to read the letter again when i get back home.” you whispe to soyoung. she nods in reply as the two of you payed your attention to the front again. it surprised you that soyoung was paying attention but you only assumed that she wanted to do better in class and shrug your shouders, writing down the notes youve missed while talking to soyoung.

as for you, your concentration in class dipped slightly because now, the thing that is occupying your head the most is the thought that the sticky notes theory might actually be real and you cant say its not possible anymore, making you even more shocked than you did last night.

lucky for you, today is the only day of the week where your class ends the earliest, along with two other lower ranked classes. you and soyoung quickly pack up to go to the mall to get your reward. after soyoung buys you your drink, you and soyoung went your separate ways.

after about 30 minutes of taking the bus and walking, you finally arrived at home. you place your drink on the living room table and proceed to place your bag in the room and head for the showers.

once you were done showering, you walk out of the bathroom to head to your room while drying your hair with a small towel. opening the door, you enter and went straight to your clothing rack. just when you were about to grab a shirt from the hanger, you heard the same noise last night. another piece of paper has fallen on the floor.

you turn your head and look down. this time, you found another sticky note right in front of your feet. the colour of the sticky note changed from yellow to a light blue. you tilt your head as you pick up the stick note from the floor, finding it odd as you wonder how the colour of the sticky note changed.

you take a deep breath before reading it, noticing that the handwriting was similar to the one you read last night. a little messier, but still readable.

hi again.. im not sure if you’ll recieve this since its the afternoon and i know people are busy with work or school. i skipped school today so haha. um i just wanted to write to you, despite me not knowing a single thing about you. its odd really. its like i feel the need to write something to an unknown identity that people assume to be my soulmate. i still dont know your name, so i hope youll reply soon. take your time and take care :)

- mark

“skip school? what is he, a bad boy?” you scoff to yourself. you try to take in whatever’s on the note, but another thought comes to mind. you walk over to your desk and saw that the yellow sticky note with mark’s reply was still there. you find everything about this weird and just odd in general. a lot of questions sprouted, but you didn’t want to think of it since you were afraid you would complicate your thoughts and just throw yourself into a stress hole.

you continue to dry your hair with one hand while the other held onto the light blue sticky note. you bit your lip and gulp. after letting out a long sigh, you place the sticky note next to the other one and changed into your clothes, as well as bringing your drink from the living room table to your room, placing it on the desk as you sat down.

you take out your pencilcase from your bag and brought out your fresh new black pen that you just bought at the school’s stationery store. the previous pen you had was full of ink till soyoung was dumb enough to drop it, spoiling the pen and was unable to be used again.

peeling off another yellow stick note from the stack at the edge of your desk, you were about to put your pen on paper when you realise you dont even know what to write. what do you say to this person you barely know about? you continuously tap the edge of the pen against your desk as you take a sip of your drink. you look over to the two sticky notes with the messages that the person has left. its funny how you have to think so hard just to write a short message.

hey again. i actually ended school early today. my name’s raven. but my friends call me ray. i honestly don’t know what to say to you. im still dumbfounded over the fact that you’re my soulmate and we’re here communicating over sticky notes. the world really does work in a strange way. if you dont mind, i guess i want to know how old you are and you’re education status?

you held out the sticky note in front of you and sigh in satisfaction. why? it’s because of your neat handwriting. it was always a trait of yours that you deeply appreciate. you place the sticky note on the wall and advert your attention to the other sticky notes, placing them on the wall beside the new one you have just written.

“will this drive me insane? i might end up with a whole wall of this.” you say to yourself, rubbing your face with your palm before going to your bed and laying down, wanting to have your evening nap.

“this is awesome!”

“no its scary.”

mark and his group of friends stared at the sticky note that has a message written with beautiful handwriting. mark flinched when he felt an arm on his shoulder, turning around to notice it was chenle’s. “when did you write your previous sticky note?” renjun suddenly asked. mark tilts his head as he tried to find an answer.

“less than an hour before you guys came i guess?” mark shrugs, standing up from his desk and taking a seat at the edge of the bed beside jaemin and haechan. “this raven girl is your soulmate then.” chenle walks towards mark and stands in front of him. mark nods slowly. the room grew silent again with everyone having the similar thoughts.

“you know what would be funny?” haechan smacks mark’s thigh, the sound making everyone turn their attention to mark and haechan. “what?” mark asked with a sigh, running a hand through his hair.

“why dont we prank her and say you’re a sugar daddy and live in a mansion?!” everyone gave yuta weird looks, making haechan laugh hysterically. “are you crazy? do you think i want to chase my soulmate away?” mark scolded haechan, smacking him hard on the chest, resulting in haechan’s back falling onto the bed.

“you’re always asking for a beating i swear.” renjun comments, walking towards haechan and balling his hand into a fist and acting as if he was about to attack. jaemin laughs to try and calm them down. “kids let’s not fight.” jaemin announced, looking over to jeno only to find him standing there watching quietly.

“go ahead, mark. you should write something. we cant keep her waiting.” jeno finally spoke up, grabbing the sticky notepad and a random pen from mark’s table and passing it over to him.

mark stared at the blank paper while the others were talking about what to have for dinner. it didn’t take him long to decide what to write. when mark starts writing and began to be in full concentration, everyone crowds around him to see what he’s writing.

sup raven! i wont call you ray since we aren’t friends yet. im still shocked. like the possibility of things like this being possible is just another possibility that can possibly happen. but anyways, to answer you question, im a high schooler from dream high. im in my third year. its kind of awkward for me while im writing this since my friends are reading every word im taking down. i guess i should ask you the same question back then. hope to hear from you soon.

“will you guys stop being nosy?” mark groans, standing up and pasting the sticky note on his wall, along with the other sticky notes he received from you. “you didn’t have to say that we’re here.” haechan retorts. mark rolls his eyes. “jesus..” mark mutters under his breathe. “anyways, yall are paying for dinner since you guys bribed me to write back.” mark sticks his tongue out playfully and runs out to the living room. everyone follows suit.. except for jeno.

jeno slowly walks towards the wall and leans forward to get a closer look of the sticky notes, specifically the two others beside the new one that mark just wrote. “raven? why does that sound so familiar? the handwriting...” jeno brings his finger up and lightly hovers them over the uniquely written words. it looked like calligraphy, and retro looking. jeno felt as though he had seen it before somewhere, or knew someone who wrote like that.

jeno snapped out of his deep thoughts when jaemin called out to him, making him walk towards the door and glancing at the sticky notes once more before joining the others in the living room.

you were currently video calling your friends when you heard the crackling of a piece of paper. of course you knew what that meant. you peered down the the floor from your bed and reached your hand out to pick up the sticky note. “ray?” doyoung called out to you when he noticed your face wasnt on screen. you lay back down on the floor and brought your phone up to show your face.

“what was that sound earlier?” lucas asked, currently sounding hyper. “the mysterious mark sent me another sticky note.” you reply sarcastically, waving the sticky note to the camera to let everyone look at it. everyone nodded their heads at the some time, some letting out a long ‘ah’ as well. “read it out loud!” yuta shouted.

“the fuck no!” you shouted back. you stared at the sticky note, but didn’t bother to read it. you thought of doing that once you’re done video calling them.

“how was today for you guys?” you asked, wanting to know how they’re doing.

“its tiring! we had dance practice, then we have to do recordings for our new albums. we barely get any sleep.” ten whines, his tone filled with stress. you laugh loudly. it made everyone frown and pout. you sigh. “pursuing your NCT world domination is never easy.” you commented, highlighting the word ‘world domination’ with a change of tone.

everyone lets out a long sigh and started to complain one by one, making the whole video call chaotic for almost 10 minutes. you could only smile and shake your head.

after about an hour or so of talking about basically everything and catching up with each other, everyone decided that they should end the call here since it was beginning to get dark and they needed to start practice soon. you bid your goodbye to them once more and ended the call.

you now adverted your attention to the sticky note. reading the letter, you raise both eyebrows. “dream high? that’s not far from here..” you mumbled to yourself. you started to think about everything you know about dream high. you know it’s was about an hour’s journey from where you live. it wasnt really well known either. the overall vibe of the school was mediocre.

however, you felt like you were missing something. something about that school is somehow related to you. you just couldn’t think of an answer despite squeezing all thoughts that you have in your brain. you groan and stood up from your bed and to your desk, proceeding to wanting to write a reply to mark.

hey. sorry if you get this quite late. i was busy video calling my friends. to answer your question, im a third year as well from jookin high. i would ask for your number so we dont have to do this all the time but my friend would scold me saying “but you’re removing the fun out of it.” but anyways, mark aka my soulmate, tell me about yourself, to start off.

you stick the note onto the wall, looking at the row of messages you’ve had recieved so far. you found it weird how the first time you’ve sent the note and got a reply back, it was on the same sticky note, just different handwriting. but you had to write on a new sticky note to send a new message only to get the same sticky note with a different message in return.

you only see his answers lined up on your wall. you started to wonder how this mark guy looked like. is he good looking? what are his hobbies? his attitude towards school? you really wished you could just text him through instagram and not have to go through all this trouble. but that option would earn you a large smack on the back by soyoung and your really didn’t want that.

“do we really need to be here now? like now?!”soyoung whined, while pushing the cart and following behind you while you tossed some packets of frozen bacon. you stopped walking and turn around, nodding your head intensely. soyoung groans and took out her phone, proceeding to use it while still pushing the cart.

you walk around the supermarket, trying to find the ingredients listed on your notes in your phone. it was the weekends and you’re parents were going to be away for a business trip for a week so you thought of inviting soyoung over and making home cooked meals as a bonding session for you two.

after about 30 minutes of gathering the ingredients and having soyoung constantly screaming and fangirling over tiktok edits of jaehyun from NCT. one note: she has yet to know that you know them and that they’re your friends. you figured that it would be best to not let anyone know so as to avoid any situation that would put your friends in a tight spot, since well they’re idols, you were looking for one last item that you had trouble finding.

“soyoung help me! stop watching tiktoks!” you groan, snatching soyoung’s phone away and shoving it in her back pocket. soyoung rolls her eyes lazily and the two of you proceeded to scan the different isles and shelves, looking over every item.

while you were too concentrated looking at the bottom shelves, you felt that you have bumped into someone. you squat down, letting out a soft ‘ouch’ before standing up and looking to see who you bumped into.

“wait. jaemin?” you furrow your eyebrows as you tilt your head, pointing your finger at the guy in front of you. “raven!” you noticed that it was jaemin after all, and both your faces lit up and the same time, grinning widely at each other.

“uhhh..” soyoung says out loud, you and jaemin turn your heads to face soyoung who was behind you. “oh! this is jaemin. we used to be neighbourhood friends before he moved out 4 years ago.” you introduced jaemin to soyoung. jaemin nodded and gave her a bright smile. soyoung only shrugged her shoulders and took out her phone. you turn your attention back to jaemin.

“why are you even here? dont you live quite far?” you ask, your fingers interlocked behind your back. jaemin nods, running a hand through his hair.

“well yes. but we came here to find something that only this supermarket sells.” jaemin replied back, his warm smile never leaving his lips. you smile, reached your hand out to ruffle his hair, laughing softly afterwards. “we? who’re you with?” you stared at jaemin with eyes of suspicion. jaemin started pinching your cheeks, making you whine and begging him to let go.

“with my friend, ray chill. im still single.” jaemin pulled away and folded his arms, pouting. “im sure you’ll find one soon.” you reached out to ruffle his hair and give off a wide smile.

while you and jaemin were catching up and being in your own world, soyoung got too bored of watching the two of you and decided to walk around the supermarket, leaving the cart behind you.

just as she was looking at the drinks isle to get her favourite sweet drink, she sees someone picking up a bunch of bottles one by one and placing them back on the shelve. out of kindness, she decided to help, picking up a bottle and placing it on fhe shelve before looking up to face the guy, who had a straight face while looking at her.

“i was just trying to help. im soyoung.” soyoung smiled, reaching her hand out and waiting for thr guy to greet back. he looked at her but doesn’t respond, proceeding to pick up the last bottle that was seen on the floor. “im jeno.” jeno stands up and nods his head to greet soyoung. soyoung nods back, walking down the isle to grab her drink from the shelve. “have a nice day.” soyoung says before leaving the isle and disappearing out of jeno’s sight. he only shrugged in response and went to do his own thing.

“you met who?!” haechan asks as he takes a sip of his ice cold water. everyone had their heads turned to jaemin, who raised an eyebrow at everyone’s weird expression. “i met my old friend raven. what’s so shocking?” jaemin asks back casually, picking up a few pieces of fries and dipping it into the sauce before shoving it in his mouth.

“dude that’s the name of mark’s soulmate!” haechan screams, making everyone flinch due to the loud noise. “i highly doubt it. there’s plenty of girls in the world with the name raven.” jaemin protests with his mouth full and chugging down gulps of coca cola.

“i mean that’s true. jeno you were with jaemin, right? dont you suspect anything?” renjun starts to question jeno, who was silently playing with his phone. looking up at the others, he gulps.

“i didn’t know he met his friend. i was picking out drinks. i just met a girl named soyoung.” jeno shrugs, taking a bite of his burger. mark scratches the back of his head, now starting to think of the fact that jaemin might have met his soulmate. though he also thought about how that could not be totally possible.

“nah i dont think its her. like really ‘raven’ could be anyone.” mark says, siding with jaemin. haechan tilts his head in awe. “jaemin do you know what school she’s going to?” jaemin only shakes his head.

“i lost all contact with her when i left her neighbourhood. plus we were young. i barely knew her honestly.” the living room falls silent, everyone trying to think of a conclusion to this.

chenle groans, standing up from his seat and slamming his hands on the table, gathering everyone’s attention as their heads shot up. “instead of pondering as if yall are solving some crime, why dont mark just ask her through the sticky note god dammit?” chenle pinches the bridge of his nose.

everyone’s mouths gape open as the room was suddenly filled with ‘ah’s all over. chenle shakes his head. everyone was now looking intensively at mark. mark furrows his eyebrows. “okay guys hold up ill grab the stick note.” mark stands up and takes one bite of his burger before going into his room for awhile and coming out with a sticky note and a pen.

jaemin noticed jeno being silent the whole way. and althought thats normal since its jeno’s nature and personality to not be so outspoken like the others, jaemin could sense that jeno was off and seem to be in deep thoughts.

and jaemin was right. jeno couldnt stop thinking about jaemin’s encounter with ‘raven’. the name sounded so familiar. he tried to recall every girl he has came into contact with during his life. why did he feel like the name was tied to the handwriting he saw on the sticky notes?

“jeno.” jaemin nudged him in the shoulder. jeno mumbled a soft ‘oh’ before turning his attention to mark just like the others. “she didn’t send me a reply after my last one though.” mark says, looking up.

“its fine. she probably didn’t see it. just write already.” chenle says in anticipation. mark shakes his head. “calm the heck down its not like we can get an answer immediately.” mark rolls his eyes and began to write.

hey raven. um i know this may sound weird. but have you gone to a supermarket and met a guy names jaemin? im not a stalker i swear. its just that he’s my friend and apparently you know him. though i dont think that such a coincidence and come by just like that. hope you hear from you soon.

jeno stared at the sticky note that mark proceeded to place at a random wall of the living room while everyone continued to eat and chat. his thoughts finally linked and a imaginary lightbulb appeared on above his head when he finally realises why he was so drawn to mark’s soulmate.

you were focused on wanting to solve a math question when the sticky note above your desk’s wall had fallen in front of you, revealing a new message. you place your pen down and let out a sigh, remembering that you hsve forgotten to write a reply and that mark probably sent you another one.

you tied your hair in a messy low bun before picking up the sticky note to get a closer view. you blink your eyes rapidly as your eyes furrow in awe. what the note said really shocked you and made you freeze in your spot. jaemin is friends with your soulmate? there’s no way.

you sat there for awhile as you constantly read over the words, still in shock with your moutb hanging open. you just couldn’t believe it. was it really what it seemed to be? another thought came to your mind as well. the thought of just who is this friend of jaemin’s? could it be mark? was your soulmate literally in the same place as you yet you never knew?

you grab a fresh new piece of sticky note and proceeded to write a reply after staring at it for so long and thought that it was finally time that you do something.

okay what you wrote really was weird. jaemin’s my old neighbourhood friend. its such a coincidence how you know him. i guess the connections are there. so haha yeah. damn. im very mind blown right now.

you take a look at your handwriting again, smiling to yourself. “i really do love my handwriting.” you mumble under your breath. you stuck the sticky note on the wall and resumed doing your homework, hoping that mark would reply soon.

while the boys were immersed in the horror movie they were watching on friday night, everyone turned their heads to each other when they heard the noise of a piece of paper falling onto the floor. in unison, everyone turned their head to where the noise came from and seeing the sticky note that fell.

jisung grabs the controller and pauses the movie. “we’re watching a scary movie and creepy stuff like that happens?!” jisung asks, stuttering out of complete fear.

mark decided to be the brave one after seeing everyone’s terrified face and stands up to pick up the sticky note, going back to take his seat on the couch soon after. “d-does that always happen?” mark shrugs. “well duh. that’s how i know she sent a reply. it wouldn’t be this scary if we weren’t watching a horror movie.”

everyone’s heads once again gather around mark as he read the note out loud. everyone gapes their mouth open, some covered their mouths while jeno could only stare at it in disbelief. “i guess we’ve confirmed its her.” mark breathes out, placing the sticky note on the table.

jeno reaches out to grab the sticky note to have a look. the unique handwriting that he suspected would belong to you really was yours. out of anger, he tears the sticky notes into two. everyone had their eyes widened at jeno’s sudden shocking action. mark snatches the now torn note back, looking down at them before facing jeno.

“what the heck was that for?!”

“dont talk to her anymore. she’s trouble.”

everyone lets out a sigh in unison except for mark, looking at everyone’s weird reaction. “what do you mean trouble? and why does it look like you all know something except me?” mark furrows his eyes as everyone exchanged glances continuously for a moment.

“she’s just not someone you should be with. that’s all.” jeno stands up and walks to his room, slamming the door shut and produring a piercing noise. the room was silent for awhile until mark speaks up.

“what am i missing here you guys?”

no one replies.

“we’ve been friends for a year and you guys are all keeping secrets for me?” mark scoffs in disbelief, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“we arent in the position to tell you. its jeno.” jaemin murmurs under his breath, looking down on the ground just like the others.

marks keeps silent and stands up from the couch, the palm the torn note was in is balled into a fist as he goes into his room as well.

haechan sighs. “jeno has to tell the truth. he’s been holding onto that grudge almost forever now.”

everyone nods their heads in agreement. “if not, he’s going to live in despair now that he knows she’s his best friend’s soulmate..” jisung adds on.

everyone could only silently hope that things could go well.

after that day you’ve sent a reply, you havent heard from mark since. you dont know why. due to your lack of information on him, it felt as if he disappeared into thin air. although only a week has past by, you felt concerned and somewhat worried for him. did something happen to him? what made him cut off his connection with you? its not like you did anything wrong.

out of pure desperation, you decided to skip school today. youve never skipped school before, and you felt so rebellious and bad. why did you do this? so you could go to dream high and meet mark in person. youve had enough of the sticky notes. you just wanted to see how he was like in real life, not having to think about it through notes.

with a little help from jaemin by texting him on instagram, you knew that mark’s class should be ending by 4pm, and you were there at 3:50 in the canteen where jaemin told you to wait. funny how the security guard lets a student from another school come in with a pass or anything.

you slowly start seeing groups of students going down the flight of stairs that lead to the canteen which had a path leading to the front gates. some eyes glanced at you as they notice someone who doesnt belong at their school, you couldnt care less though. your thoughts were only filled with mark. how he looked like, how he would carry himself. your anticipation was the only thing you felt.

you wore your headphones yet you could suddenly hear a lot of squealing and shouting. you look up, turning you attention to the stairs. a large group of girls crowding around another group of people, who you assumed to be guys. you scoffed, thinking about how there’s always that one group of good looking guys all girls seem to go crazy for. you watch as the group of guys push through the large crowd.

once you got a closer look, you tilt your head to the side. you slowly bring your headphone down from your ears and let them rest on your neck, getting intrigued by how the girls were getting so crazy, even more crazy than the ones from your school.

“its mark! he’s so cute!”

you widen your eyes as you heard the word ‘mark’. you stood up from your seat, peering your head up to find which one is the girl referring to. you only see two guys walking. one smiling sheepishly while the other kept a straight and cold face. just which one is mark?

suddenly, you felt an arm grabbing yours and pulling you back. you jump out of fear and turn around noticing it was jaemin. you calmed your breathing as you look at jaemin.

“meet mark under the block nearby. its too hectic here for you to talk to him.”

jaemin dragged you out of the school grounds and to a secluded block where only a few students where walking past and left you there. you were lost in confusion but decided to trust whatever jaemin was doing, sitting down at a random bench.

“jaemin told us to meet him here where is-”

“raven.”

“what?”

you immediately stood in front of the two guys you saw at the canteen as you notice a familiar face. you werent able to get a clear look at them before, but now you realise that you knew one of them. “jeno..” you look at a different direction a you tried avoiding his gaze, though you knew you couldnt, forcing yourself to meet his eyes.

mark looks at the both of you, utterly confused as his attention shifts from you to jeno constantly. “this raven?” mark points at you, tilting his head. you nod slowly as your turn your head to face mark. you observed his body up and down. he was good looking, just like jeno.. yet his aura told you that he was way more outgoing and open than jeno.

“you look...”

everyone was silent.

you gulp in nervousness. “im busy. bye mark.” before jeno could go, mark pulled on his arm to bring him back to stand beside him, earning a glare from jeno. the one you could never forget. “stay. i know something happened. you were always quiet whenever we talked about this girl. and i also know you all kept something from me.”

you slowly turned to jeno. you could he was annoyed whenever he looked at you. you felt it through his eyes, and it was terrifying. jeno took a deep breath in, folding his arms and placing his weight on one leg.

“if you remember clearly, chenle told you that before we became friends with you, we had a fight and didnt talk to each other for a long time. we didnt tell you this, but it was her who caused it. she brought chaos into our group. everyone forgotten about it clearly, but i cant. after what she did.. i cant forgive her.”

you opened your mouth, wanting to reply but your words were somehow stuck in your throat. you didnt exactly know what to say or do in this awkward situation.

“it.. it was a long time ago jeno, please. my feelings for you were real, even if we werent meant to be. i dont know how many times you need me to say sorry.” you pleaded, biting your lip as you waited for jeno’s reaction.

jeno sighs and runs a hand through his hair as he lets out a huff of rustration. “then why did you leave? you left me stranded, and because of you, i almost left my friends becaused i lived in agony since i missed you so much. i almost pushed everyone away.” you shivered as jeno’s voice started to raise.

you also glanced at mark, who still kept his confused expression on his face. through his gaze never left you as you felt his eyes scanning you body up and down.

“you two used date?” mark asks. you nod in reply.

“we were kids. we didnt know about all this soulmate stuff. but now..”

“you know what? be together. im not going to leave my friends just because of my pent up grudge and feelings. i cant control fate either.”

years had now past since you met mark. it really was fate. the two of you became close in no time and now.. you were fianally married. you couldnt be more happy to be with mark. who you were destined to be really was made for you, and you only. and to think this all escalated due to a note you sent out in pure curiosity.

you still remember what happened with jeno after that day, despite the lack of interaction between you two, jeno was open enough to accept you as his friend again. you are now living a happy life with mark, and always being able to hang out with his group of friends. today was no different.

“haechan get the chilli sauce!” you hear mark shout as you smile widely, feeling his arm snaking around your waist to pull you close. having a barbeque was a great idea to celebrate jisung’s birthday.

you soon see haechan with the bottle of chilli sause, placing it on the table where everyone gathered around the table which had jisung’s birthday cake. “before we do anything with the cake, let me announce my wish.” jisung announces proudly. you raise an eyebrow. “you cant say you birthday wish out loud!” you scolded jisung, but everyone laughs.

“his wish is something we all know.” jeno says, winking playfully at you. you tilt your head in confusion when you suddenly feel mark’s arm leaving you waist. you look over to mark who was shoving his hand into his pocket as if to find something.

you were completely clueless when mark nods towards jisung, to show some kind of signal. “i wish for mark and raven to get married!” jisung shouts.

you gaped your mouth open in shock when mark pulls out a small box, opening it in front of you to show a ring. you cover your mouth in disbelief. “did you guys really-”

“please marry me, raven. my sticky note soulmate.” you hear everyone clapping s a tear of happiness drips from your cheek. you quickly wipe it away as you heard the nickname that mark gave you. “we wouldnt normally do this but it was jeno that suggested this.”

you look over to jeno who had a soft smile on his face as he nod his head. looking back at mark, you grin widely as more tears started flowing out. “of course ill marry you, you dork.”

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