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wingsofanillyrian · 3 years

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Lights Over Monaco: Chapter 3

Day late but here you go! Thank you to @acourtofcouture for beta-ing and putting up with me!

Chapter Masterlist

The six hour flight left Nesta well rested and refreshed as she checked into her hotel. She texted Jacob to check in and make sure none of his equipment had gotten lost on the flight. Having arrived a day earlier, he had been lurking around paddocks in hopes of capturing any drama on film.

He assured her everything had made it safely and informed her there were rumors flying about transmission troubles with the McLaren team. Nesta told him to keep an eye on it and unpacked her suitcase.

Nesta had just sat down when her phone rang. It was Tomas. Sighing, she decided she couldn’t avoid him forever.

“Tomas,” She answered coldly.

“About damn time you picked up the phone,” He replied, remorseless. He wasn’t earning himself any points. “What room are you in?”

She frowned. “How do you know if I’m even in Baku?”

“Doesn’t take a rocket scientist to find out flight numbers.” Interesting, he was keeping tabs on her.

“I don’t want to-”

“I said what room?”

Nesta sank back in the plush chair. Truthfully, she did want to see him, if only to determine what he had to say for himself. She couldn’t let go of the hope that somehow this was all a simple misunderstanding.

“Fourteen twelve,” She told him, instantly regretting it.

She heard him shuffling on the other end. “Five minutes.”

A knock on her door sounded a few minutes later, and she let Tomas in. “I saw the story.”

“Obviously,” Nesta scoffed, crossing her arms. Tomas reached for her but she stepped away. His eyes went bright with anger. She would not make this easy for him.

“I tried calling you.”

“I am aware.” Nesta picked at her nails to hide her trembling, trying to appear utterly nonplussed. “Did you sleep with her?”

“Yes.”

Nesta froze. Ever so slowly, her gaze slid to Tomas. Back straight, chin jutting out, staring down his nose at her. He still showed no sign of regret, nothing that would indicate he made a mistake.

“Why?” She rasped, fighting back tears. Tomas was not worth it.

He shrugged. “Because I wanted to. You and I are just fucking anyways. What does it matter?”

Nesta recoiled, blinking. “I can’t do this.” She had grossly miscalculated their entire relationship. Her palms began to sweat, her breathing increasing to a fever pitch. She pressed a hand to her chest, praying that the pressure would prevent her glass heart from shattering. Instead, it pushed the shards further into her lungs, making each breath ragged.

“Get out,” She whispered. Tomas scoffed, stepping forward.

“Nesta-”

“Out!” She repeated, more forcefully. She only needed to hold herself together for a few more seconds until he was out the door, then she could crumble.

Tomas’ face twisted. “Fine. I’ll see you at the paddock tomorrow anyway, I’m sure.”

Nesta let out a choked sob as soon as the door slammed shut. Her resolve broke, the dam inside of her punched through. Tears flowed freely down her face as she fell to her knees. She shouldn’t have loved him.

Before they had met, she knew he was nothing but a heartbreaker. He went through women the way a drunk went through a bottle of liquor. Tomas viewed women in the same way as well; objects to be used until they were no more than empty shells and then discarded.

Nesta let the grief crash against her for a handful of minutes before she realized how useless it was. Tomas would never love her. Honestly, she wasn’t sure if he was capable of feeling such an emotion at all. There was no use letting him affect her.

Gathering her strength, Nesta stood. She looked at the sorry image in the mirror, taking in the red eyes, the mascara tracking down her cheeks, the disheveled hair. She wouldn’t let a man crush her. She had made it this far by blinding herself to the sneers and derogatory comments thrown at her. Why couldn’t she do the same to get over Tomas?

But as she climbed into bed, she realized how flawed that mentality was.

**********

Sunday’s race kept Nesta busy. Lucien and Azriel collided in lap three, causing a safety car and ultimately leading to the pair of them being unable to finish the race. Nesta had seen it on a television hanging in the Mercedes garage, the entire team letting out a collective shout when Vanserra didn’t yield to Azriel in the 90 degree turn and the Red Bull tangled with the Mercedes. Both cars were a mess of broken carbon fiber and snapped suspension bits.

Nesta managed to corner Azriel and get a few heated words out of him, a rare bit of annoyance showing through his usual calm. “Vanserra should have cut into the corner more sharply. He was way off the racing line.”

“Some people would say that you should have backed off and yielded the position to him,” Nesta added, hoping to get him worked up further. “What are your thoughts on that?”

Azriel glared at the camera, addressing anyone who dared think the incident had been his fault. “If you’re not allowed to defend, what’s racing about, then?”

Azriel turned on his heel and belined back to the garage. Jacob lowered the camera and turned to Nesta to ask, “You don’t actually believe it was Azriel’s fault, do you?”

“Of course not.” Nesta’s attention returned to the monitors and she grimaced. The racing incident had allowed Tomas to move up into first. Cassian was only a second behind, but struggling to overtake. At least she no longer had to be invested in Tomas holding his position. She couldn’t care less if he won or not.

In the end, it was Tomas taking home top points for Red Bull, Cassian bringing home 18 for Mercedes and Varian with a handful for McLaren spraying the champagne on the podium. Red Bull’s one stop strategy meant that when Cassian dipped into the pits on lap 38 for a fresh set of soft compound tires and one of the wheel nuts got stuck, Tomas was the clear winner. Cassian had no way to make up the 10 second deficit. The 25 points Tomas’ first place finish awarded him allowed him to slip past Cassian and snag the championship lead.

And gods, was he smug about it.

Nesta told herself she didn’t care when Tomas sauntered into the press pen, his self-satisfied smile directed at her as he sat. Cassian and Varian filed in moments later, each silent as they took their seats. The room paused, Cassian’s hazel eyes flicking to where she sat front row. Everyone was waiting…. For her.

But her mind was blank. Not a single race related question surfaced. Nesta panicked, clenching a fist hard enough to feel her nails bite her palm. After a few beats of silence, the roar of the other reporters filled her head.

They had been waiting for her to ask something - anything - and she couldn’t come up with a single damned thing to say.

Jacob nudged her side. “You good?”

Nesta was too lost in the tangled web of thoughts to reply. This had all been a game to Tomas; his attitude now told her that. He had used her to gain favor with other teams and build a solid reputation with fans. After all, what better way to gain positive media attention than to have the sport’s most infamous writer in your bed?

She managed to keep her face carefully blank until the end of the conference. She didn’t say a word to Jacob as he packed up, shooting her confused glances all the while. The walls of the room pushed in on her, chest becoming tight. Standing on shaky legs, she fled down the hall, finding an abandoned alcove far from the cacophony of noise.

Chest heaving, Nesta tried to sort through her revelation. Tomas had used her. He had never intended to let this drag out. Those pictures had likely been a calculated move on his end, intended to spear her heart. Maybe breaking her had been his plan all along. He seemed to enjoy her emptiness, judging by the way he kept glancing at her during the conference.

Her phone vibrated. Against her better judgement, she checked it. It was only Jacob, asking where she was. She only texted back to say that she was fine before gathering herself. She couldn’t just crumble in a hallway where anyone could see her.

She had just began to head towards the exit when someone jogged behind her. “Hey!”

“Not now Cassian,” Nesta said, annoyance evident. How did he always manage to find her when she wanted to be left alone? It was like he had some kind of sixth sense, focused directly on her.

“Hold on,” He said, fingers brushing her arm. The touch froze her, muscles coiling. It had only been a brief moment, but the surprise of it was enough to disarm her. “You okay? You didn’t say a word at the conference.”

Her lips peeled back in a snarl. “Why do you care?”

He did not flinch. Most would have. “Because I’m a decent person, believe it or not.” She searched his face for any sign of insincerity. She couldn’t find any; his hazel eyes held only honeyed truths.

Nesta’s laugh was cruel, hot tears threatening to fall. “Right. Sure you are. Suddenly you feel like caring about how I feel instead of fucking with me. How about you leave me to my misery, Cassian? No need to rub it in.”

She didn’t wait for a response. Didn’t want to see the look on his face, whether it was anger or smug satisfaction, or something else entirely.

Nesta managed to make it out and call a taxi to take her back to the hotel. She was silent the entire ride, not bothering with half-hearted small talk. Collapsing on the bed, she didn’t bother changing. She queued up a cheesy comedy film, one that was full of stupid jokes that were funny when it first came out, but not relevant in the present day.

Halfway through, Nesta grew bored and checked her phone. There was a text from an unknown number.

You okay? You never answered me.

"What the fuck," Nesta mumbled, rereading the message. How had Cassian gotten her number?

Fine, was all she said back. She didn't know why she even bothered responding. Maybe it was because he had seemed genuinely concerned in that hallway and she felt slightly guilty for blowing him off.

I can buy you a drink if you come down to the hotel bar

Fuck off and leave me alone

Gladly.

Nesta let out a frustrated sigh and texted Jacob.

You gave him my number didn't you?

Jacob's response was only an emoji of a nervous smile.

"Little fucker," She mumbled, tossing her phone aside. She'd throttle him tomorrow on the plane. Right now, she was too hungry to send a snarky reply. If she slipped out the back, she could grab a burger without having to chance running into Cassian at the bar.

Grabbing a sweater - the desert got cold at night, she'd learned that the hard way - she made the trek down the fourteen flights of stairs, trying to piece together her life.

By the time she made it to a fast food shop, she was exhausted. She inhaled her meal in minutes, lounging in the dingy booth. She looked at her phone for what felt like the thousandth time, disappointed when there wasn’t so much as a text from Tomas.

She got up from the booth, tossed her trash in the bin and walked out. She took the long way back to the hotel, purposely winding through the streets. Why did she care if Tomas hadn’t texted her? It was her own fault that she had let herself fall for him in the first place. She knew it had been a horrible idea, and yet she had allowed herself to let him gain a place of importance in her life. They’d agreed on no feelings, and yet here she was.

By the time she made it back to her hotel room, Nesta was exhausted. It took her three tries to fit the electronic key in the reader, and she used her full weight to shoulder the obscenely heavy door open.

She didn’t bother with the lights, simply slipping out of her shoes and throwing her jacket in the general direction of the closet. She wanted to sleep; maybe that would reset her mind so she could feel less broken tomorrow.

“Hey-”

“Fuck!” Nesta jumped at the voice, fumbling for the lightswitch, heart in her throat. She squinted when warm light filled the room, shoulders relaxing when she saw who it was. Tomas, standing awkwardly by the desk, roses and a small box in his hands. Despite herself, hope bloomed.

“What are you doing here?” She asked, unmoving.

Setting down the bouquet, Tomas stepped forward to hand her the box. “I came to apologize. I know I missed your birthday and that I’m a shitty person. But if you open that, I think you’ll see…”

He trailed off, nodding to the present she now held. She opened the hinged black velvet, revealing a small diamond necklace. It was delicate, nothing flashy, but enough to make a statement. Nesta glanced up at him, heart warring with her head.

“Do you think showering me with pretty things will make me take you back, after what you said?”

“I think it’ll help, when paired with the fact that I-” He swallowed, trying and failing to hide his grimace. “I love you.”

Any and all sane thoughts left her head upon hearing those three precious words. Gods, she had dreamed of this moment for months. He’d only waited to tell her because it was clearly hard for him to say. But now that he’d admitted it, she could teach him how to love.

Nesta laughed, throwing her arms around his neck. “I love you too, Tomas. I always have.”

His hands rest on her back, not returning her fervor but she didn’t care. “Now will you take me back?”

The short answer was yes, absolutely. There was nothing she wanted more in the world than to wrap herself up in him and get lost. But her head knew that she needed to lay out a defense.

“Only if you promise we can make this real. If we can be together. Which means no more stunts for the cameras. I can’t keep writing about it like it’s nothing.”

Tomas tensed against her. “Fine. I can do that.”

The weight on Nesta’s chest eased. She let him lay her back on the bed, ripping at his clothes. She only let him pull away long enough for him to whisper, “I can’t stay the night.”

@aphoeni @planet-faerie @nina-zcnik @darlinminds @linsimin @that-little-red-head @teagoddess99 @enpointe10 @electronicstrawberrystrawberry @awesomelena555 @iptneus @weesablackbeak @wonderland–memories @nessian-trash-heap @magicalwaterfall @perfectlyimpxrfect @cassians-wings @valkyrie-archeron @acourtofcouture @nesemryn @chloepereyra @toastedroastedburnt @swankii-art-teacher @illyrianshadowhunter @bakingandbooks3 @maastrash @candid-confetti @flamingveritas @silentquartz @suckmykawaiidesu @18moneytoad @frosted-crackers @maybekindasortaace @lysandra-tiara9 @rowaelinismyotp @jlinez

#lom #my writing #nesta archeron #cassian #a court of mist and fury #a court of thorns and roses #a court of war and ruin #a court of frost and starlight #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acotar fanfiction #nessian #nessian fanfiction

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mca-attack21 · 4 years

Text

After

A/N: This is the second part of Too Late.

Peter went back to the tower and received the needed medical attention. His aunt would show up and be so relieved that he was in one piece. She would hold him as he cried and tell him that everything would be okay while silently cursing the world for being so cruel to the young boy who deserved a break. After a while, she would have to leave with Happy to start sorting everything out. Other Avengers would come in and offer Peter their condolences, promising that they would be there for him if he needed anything. Tony practically moved into Peter’s room, not wanting to leave him alone. The worst part came when Y/n’s mother showed up. He expected her to scream at him for killing her daughter. But instead, she just told him how relieved she was that he was okay. She cried, he cried, she explained to him that the funeral would be held a week later and asked that he speak if he was up for it. She reminded him of how much you loved him and told him that he could come by any time.

Two days later he went back to his Aunt’s apartment. Everywhere he looked he saw you, memories flashing. He remembered the countless movie marathons (and maybe make-out sessions) on the couch. He remembered disasters in the kitchen and the flour fight you had when he discovered you trying to bake his birthday cake last year. He remembered chasing you through the halls, both of you laughing, him kissing you when he caught you in his arms. He slowly made it up to his room trying to keep it together. But, that was honestly pointless. As he opened the door, he saw the multiple shirts he had tried on before your date sprawled across his bed. He pushed them on to the ground and laid down just wanting everything to stop for a minute. But his mind refused him such pleasantries.

Instead, he thought about the nights you had spent studying together. The time that you had discovered he was Spider-Man. He replayed multiple conversations the two of you had had. He remembered the day he asked you out, your first date, the times he went to your house after a particularly bad night whether it was to be patched up or just to talk. His mind continued on like that until he eventually drifted off to sleep.

The next morning Aunt May came in and brought Peter breakfast which he hardly touched. She sighed as she was at a loss for what to do. He stayed in his room all day, only getting up to use the restroom. He just wanted to be left alone and she tried to respect that, no matter how hard it was to watch him push her away again.

After two more days of refusing visitors and ignoring the outside world, Peter’s aunt informed him that your mother had called and asked him to stop by. He honestly didn’t want to, but he figured he owed her that much. So he forced himself to shower and get dressed. He then proceeded to walk the too familiar path to your apartment, which again was accompanied by various memories that caused his chest to hurt. He didn’t know how he was supposed to do this. He eventually made it outside your door, thinking about the first time he kissed you, right there in that hallway. He hesitated, and finally knocked softly.

Your mom answered and Peter could see how upset she was, not that anyone could blame her. She invited him to come inside and take a seat on the couch. He still didn’t know exactly why he was here.

“I went today to get her stuff- from the car. This- I think it belongs to you,” she said handing him the small ring box with the promise ring he planned on giving you that night. As he took it, his eyes closed as he tried not to cry again, not in front of your mom. She too was on the verge of tears as he pulled something else out of the bag. “Th-this was in the trunk, it was her anniversary gift for you, she’d been working on it for weeks,” she said taking a deep breath and handing it to him. It was very neatly packaged in blue wrapping paper with a red ribbon. He turned it over in his hands.

Noticing his hesitation, your mother reassured him that he didn’t have to open it now. He just stared at it.

“Can I get you anything, Peter? Maybe something to drink? Or to eat? People keep dropping off casseroles,”

“I’m good, thanks,” he replied clearing his thoughts.

“You can go up to her room if you want, I like to go in there. It makes me feel closer to her,” she added.

“Yeah, I think I might do that.”

He absentmindedly walked up to your room. It looked exactly the same as it had when he had last seen it. He looked over your photo wall, glancing through the pictures mostly of the two of you. You were smiling and/or laughing in 99% of them. Seeing them brought a smile to his face. He walked around the rest of your room thinking about the time the two of you had spent together there. He took in your familiar scent and felt if only for a moment at peace.

After a while, he made his way back downstairs. He thanked your mom and told her to reach out if she needed anything. She asked him if he planned on saying anything at your funeral on Saturday and he told her that he would. Though to be honest he had forgotten that that was even a thing. Not the funeral, just the speaking part. He would have to start thinking about it.

When he returned to his apartment, he wasn’t entirely surprised to find one of Tony’s cars was parked around the corner.

“Hey kiddo, how are you doing?” Tony asked as Peter entered.

“As well as can be expected,” he replied setting down the boxes from your house before sitting across from Tony.

“I wanted to check-in, and bring you this,” he said handing him a small shoebox,”

Peter was confused, to say the least. “Mr. Stark you didn’t have to get me anything,”

“I didn’t, it’s from Y/n. She gave it to me a few months ago, made me promise to hold on to it just in case something ever happened,” he explained waiting to see how Peter was going to react.

“She’s unbelievable,” Peter chuckled, the stopped was he thought.

“Have you eaten anything today?” Tony asked most likely at Aunt May’s request.

“Not really, but I’m fine,”

“Are you sure, I can have Happy can go pick something up and bring it by, he’s been worried about you,”

“I’m good, thanks though”

“Peter I’m sorry, I can’t imagine how hard all of this is for you, especially right now. You know that I and everyone else are here for you. If there is anything that any of us can do, all you have to do is say the word and we’re here.”

“I know Mr. Stark, thank you,”

“Okay kid, I’m going to give you some space so you can open that -when you’re ready. Make sure you eat something, if not for you, do it for your aunt who’s worried about you. Let me know if you need anything. Otherwise, I’ll see you Saturday.”

“See you Saturday,” Peter mumbled before taking the three boxes upstairs to his room.

He sat and stared at the anniversary gift and the apparent contingency plan. He debated which one to open first or whether he wanted to open either of them. Okay, that was stupid, obviously, he was going to open them. It was just a matter of when and in which order. After some thought, he made up his mind and picked up the blue box unwrapping it carefully. Inside, was a scrapbook. It had pictures from kindergarten to the present, but that wasn’t all that it had. It also contained some of your artwork and small memorabilia. For example, there were tickets from various movies, the receipt from your first date, the ribbon from the science fair the two of you won, and other things that Peter had absolutely no idea that you kept. His favorite part though was your handwritten additions. Small notes, song lyrics, quotes, and memories that you used to embellish the pages. You had narrated the entire story and it was beautiful. He spent hours going through it carefully, not wanting to miss anything.

When he finished, he put it back in the box and set it aside. He debated whether he wanted to also open the shoebox tonight as he had just been on an emotional roller-coaster. He hesitantly pulled it closer to him and pulled off the lid. There was a note on top which he read first.

Dear Peter,

I hope that this note never has to be read. However, it needs to exist. So, here we go I guess. In this box, you will find two things, first a Funko Pop! and secondly a flash drive with a video that I recorded for you.

The Funko Pop! is Kylo Ren. And you may be asking yourself why out of every character in existence, I would choose him. So here’s my reasoning: 1. You love Star Wars 2. I’m guessing that the world seems a little darker than normal right now, so I figured that he could serve as a reminder that no matter how far into the “dark side” you go that there is always redemption and light.

I love you Peter Benjamin Parker.

Forever and Always,

Y/f/n Y/l/n

Peter took out the Funko Pop! And set it on his desk as he retrieved his laptop and queued up the video. He tried to mentally prepare himself for it, but it was no use.

Hi Peter,

So if you are seeing this something happened to me. I don’t know whether it was Spider-Man related or not. I guess it really doesn’t matter. I just wanted to tell you not to blame yourself. And believe me, I know you well enough to know that you will try to. Even if I live to be 102 and die peacefully in my sleep of natural causes you’d still be looking for a way to blame yourself. That’s kinda your thing, putting the weight of the world on your shoulders. Anyways, no matter what happened, it wasn’t your fault. I knew exactly what I was getting into when I agreed to be your friend, partner in crime, and your girlfriend.

You are so good Peter. You are truly a breath of fresh air. While others actively ignore the pain and suffering in the world, you go out of your way to make a difference. You protect those who can’t protect themselves and you never expect anything in return. Your life has presented you with so many challenges and so many reasons to turn cold, but instead, they made you kind.

Please keep fighting. Don’t lose hope, find something that inspires you, and use it to make you better. Make the most of every minute because life is unpredictable, beautiful, and ephemeral. That’s kinda the whole point isn’t it?

I could keep talking to you for hours, but at the same time, I feel like there isn’t much more to be said.

I love you Peter, and I know that you will get through this. I believe in you and know that you will do great things in life. There is nothing that you can’t do if you put your mind to it. Keep fighting the good fight. Or should I say keep swinging the good swing. Maybe I should go for, ‘May the Force be with you’? Hopefully that made you laugh or at least smile. God, your smile can save lives. So I feel that it is my personal duty right here and now to remind you to smile everyday. More importantly be the reason someone else smiles.

The world can be dark and scary and cruel. But there is so much beauty and goodness. You just have to seek it out. I wish you the absolute best this world has to offer. I love you, always and forever.

Oh by the way, just in case there is any doubt, I am totally okay with you move on. In fact I want you to. Find a girl that makes you happy, who makes you more, and then allow yourself to enjoy it. Absolutely under no circumstance do I want you to use me as an excuse to stop living.

Stay Gold Spider-Man.

And with that, the camera clicked off and the video ended. Peter replayed it again, taking in your voice and smile. This whole thing felt so surreal, like a bad dream that he had simply yet to wake from. That video though, it was something he hadn’t realized that he needed until he had seen it. It was like the fog was beginning to clear and he knew that everything would be okay.

When he woke up, he ate half of his lunch, which satisfied Aunt May. He then sat at his desk to do the impossible task before him. He had to figure out what it was that he wanted to say at your funeral the next day. He must have written and deleted at least 10 speeches. Nothing was good enough. It needed to be perfect. He would sit there in front of that computer for hours. When he finished, he was entirely shocked to see that it was after 2 am.

May woke him up so that he had plenty of time to get ready for the service. The drive there was silent and Peter was thinking over his speech. When he arrived, Tony came to greet him. He wasn’t surprised to see many of the avengers in attendance. You were always with him at the tower and had become close to several of them. The service was short and sweet, your mom spoke, and then she asked for him to come up and say a few words.

It was in the moment that he reached the podium that he decided to entirely disregard his speech. And instead, speak from his heart.

“From the time I was a little kid, I always wanted to be one of the avengers. I wanted to have superpowers and make the world a better place. Y/n taught me that you don’t have to have powers to change the world. You just have to make a choice to be kind and do the right thing. She was one of the bravest and most beautiful people I have ever met. She always saw the best in people and went out of her way to make a difference in the lives of others. She radiated kindness, and inspired those who knew her. She always was there for me and never gave up on me. She taught me how to find the good in everything. She was the love of my life, my best friend, and my hero. She taught me how to become something more than I ever thought I could be. She saved my life in more ways than one and I will carry her with me every day of my life.” he finished quickly returning to his seat.

After that, you were buried and everyone went their separate ways. The following Monday, Peter finally went back to school. It wasn’t easy, but he had to start somewhere. It would take him three more days before he was able to put the Spider-Man suit back on. From there, he took it day by day. Some were harder than others, but he persisted. He walked at graduation and then swung by your grave to talk to you about his future plans. He was sure that you were proud of him. He spent most of his summer in the Avengers tower with Tony. In the fall, he’d be attending college. And from there who knew what would happen. But whatever life threw at him, he would remember to seek out the good and to do kindness recklessly as you had taught him.

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rune-writes · 3 years

Text

Unbreakable Bond

Fandom: Persona 5

Ann Takamaki Week 2020 » Day 5: Birthday

Word Count: 4704

Rating: G

Summary: Six months after Shiho's accident, Ann still could not forget the sight of her friend’s crippled form on the ground. All she wanted was for Shiho to be healthy again so they could have fun like they used to. On Ann's 17th birthday, Ren prepared a surprise for her.

Note: A belated happy birthday to Ann!!

Read on AO3.

~*~*~*~*~

Ann was reading a fashion magazine on her bed when her phone vibrated, beeping once. She reached for it, patting her bed and the sides of her pillow. Where was it? Her phone was nowhere to be found, so she looked up, and saw light shining from the top of the stackable cube shelves next to her bed. She grabbed her phone and checked the notification. One message. From Ren. The smile came unbidden as Ann unlocked her phone and clicked the message.

‘Happy birthday!’ it said, followed by party-face emojis and birthday stickers. The time stamp beside it read 12:02 AM. Her grin only grew as she struggled to keep her composure, rolling over to her back and holding her phone over her head.

‘Why aren’t you asleep?’ she asked.

‘Why aren’t you?’

Ann snorted a quiet laughter. Would it kill Ren to be honest sometimes and say he wanted to be the first to wish her a happy birthday? Not that she would admit she’d been waiting for his message either.

‘What are you doing?’ he asked then.

Ann grinned. ‘Texting you.’

‘On your bed?’

‘Yep.’

There was a momentary pause before he said, ‘Do you have plans after school? Wanna go somewhere?’

There it was—the question she’d been waiting for. Ann had kept her afternoon open for this very reason. Her grin threatened to swallow her face whole as she typed, ‘Are you asking me on a date, Ren?’

Another pause. ‘Maybe.’

Cheeky. Ann laughed under her breath. ‘Alright.’

***

Ren’s invitation was the only thing occupying her mind the entire morning. She wondered where they would go. Sharing a parfait at a cute cafe would be nice. Or maybe they’d go to the movies? They could eat a fluffy cake at a pastry shop. What if, at the end of their date, Ren surprised her with a present? Not something huge, but something unexpected. And then he’d walk her home, his hand holding hers, and once they reached her porch, his eyes would bore into hers in that way that made her stomach twist and knot before he’d lean into the gentlest kiss he had ever given her. The thought already made her heart race and cheeks burn.

Her phone vibrated again inside her bag while she queued in front of the subway escalator. She had put it on silent after the incessant beeping on the train ride to school. Her friends had flooded their group chat with birthday wishes and promises to hang out. A birthday party at Leblanc after school, Ryuji had said. But Ann already had plans, and when she’d said so, Ryuji and Futaba had bombarded her with questions: what plans? With whom?

Ren was conveniently not on. Ann wondered if he was doing it on purpose. It wouldn’t be a stretch to think he was waiting for her somewhere at the station, smirking to himself as he watched their group chat notifications come in.

When her phone vibrated again, Ann exhaled a quiet sigh and fished her phone from inside her bag. If Ryuji still spouted nonsense about how no one in their right mind would date a girl like Ann, she would give him a piece of her mind once she cornered him at school. However, it wasn’t Ryuji’s name that greeted her eyes. Ann’s eyes widened when she beheld the name displayed across her phone.

‘Happy birthday, Ann!’ Shiho said in her message. ‘Wish you all the best. Sorry we can’t celebrate together like we used to, but I’m sure Ren-kun has prepared something amazing for you. I’m still doing well on my rehab. The doctor said I’ve improved a lot. Not enough to do any sports yet, but I hope we’ll get to see each other soon.’

Her fingers twitched, and she clutched her phone tight. Shiho always wished her a happy birthday before school. Then Ann would find a cute little present hiding in her shoe locker or desk drawer. Shiho would throw her arms around her from behind with a beam spreading from ear to ear as she asked her where Ann wanted to go or what she wanted to eat. A part of her expected that to happen now, grinning with glee as she read the message, before she remembered that Shiho was no longer at her school.

‘Thanks, Shiho,’ she typed her reply, then her fingers wavered over the keys, her lips quirking up in quiet delight. If Shiho’s health had improved, the time they’d be able to hang out might be closer than she thought. She’d set to type something, anything—that’s amazing news, Shiho—when the image of Shiho’s crippled body on the ground flashed across her mind.

It’s your fault.

She froze in her tracks, her hands on her phone becoming still.

“Hey.” The sudden hand on her shoulder made her jump. A figure stood beside her—a figure in her school uniform. Sunlight reflected off a pair of glasses as Ren peered into her eyes. But then his smile faltered at her lack of response. “You okay?”

“Huh?”

“You kind of spaced out.”

Ann blinked—once, twice. “Sorry, I was—” The rush of traffic on the other side of the sidewalk startled her. She looked back behind her shoulder and found the subway exit standing some thirty feet away. She glanced at her phone, then quickly typed her reply. She’d already sent it and stashed the phone back inside her bag before Ren could take a peek at it.

“Were you waiting for me?” Ann asked instead, adjusting her bag straps around her shoulder.

Ren’s gaze was searching, but when Ann said nothing, he didn’t press the subject. He nodded down the pavement toward their school. “Let’s go,” he said, his lips breaking into a small smile.

***

“It’s from Shiho,” Ann said later that day. On lunch break, she sat on her desk, leaning against the window while she ate the melonpan she’d bought at the cafeteria. The sweetness exploded in her mouth. Ren’s dark gray eyes flitted upward, meeting hers for only a moment. “The text message I received this morning. She wished me a happy birthday.”

“That’s nice.” Ren responded with a nod, taking a bit bite of his tuna-flavored rice ball.

Ann waited for more, but no other answer came. “That’s it?” she asked.

“What else?”

She didn’t know. Some kind of surprised reaction, maybe? Or asked how Shiho was doing?

“She’s your best friend,” Ren went on. “You try not to show it, but I know how much you miss her.”

Ann pursed her lips into a thin line. She averted her gaze to her bread now held on her lap.

“How is she, though?” he added.

“Good, it seems, at least from her texts.” Amazing, in fact. Now she just needed to wait until the doctors let Shiho travel. Or, wait, she had a better idea. Ann turned around in her seat and fully faced Ren. “Do you think we should go see her?”

“What?”

“She’s been pestering me to visit, saying there’s a confectionery store with all manner of sweets near her school. She said they’re really good.”

Ren chuckled. “Do you wanna meet her or do you wanna eat some sweets?” he said. Ann responded with one of her own, leaning back against the window.

“Do you remember when I told you about Shiho?” she asked.

Her voice was quiet under the cacophony of her classmates’ gossips and talks. She hoped her voice reached no one but Ren. From the corner of her eyes, she could see she had his full attention.

“We only met in middle school, but it always felt like I knew her my entire life. She was this weird girl, quiet. While everyone avoided me, she just... randomly struck a conversation with me, saying my painting sucked.” The memory prompted a wry grin spreading across her face. “My parents were always away, so my house was always empty. When Shiho learned about this, she started taking me to all sorts of places. Pastry shops. Bakeries. These cute accessory stores or just shopping for clothes. Sometimes, I go with her to visit some sports stores or help her practice before big games. I never missed her games...”

Ann trailed off. It seemed like it was just yesterday when they were perusing the stores in Shibuya’s underground mall. Shiho had never tasted the buffet’s chocolate fountain either. When Ann went to visit her, maybe she could bring Shiho a crepe from that stand in Central Street Shiho loved so much. The small pang in her heart returned, clenching a little tighter.

After school, Ann refrained herself from pestering Ren to tell her where they were going. It was going to be a surprise, and she was content to let it stay that way. They rode the train to Shibuya and hopped off at the station. She half-expected Ren to lead her out and into Central Street, but they headed for the Keio Inokashira Line, where they boarded another train heading for Inokashira Park.

“We’re going to Inokashira Park?” Ann asked once they boarded the train and found an empty spot between a man in a suit and a woman carrying groceries.

“Yep,” he replied, but didn’t elaborate.

That was unexpected, though Ann wouldn’t say she minded going there. It had been a while, and strolling through the vast park under beautiful autumn leaves might be a great way to spend her birthday.

The ride took 20 minutes, give or take. They descended from the train, then exited the station to a quiet residential area. The park lay only a short walk away. Over a stone bridge crossing the river, trees with gold and brown leaves lined the path on both sides. Ann breathed in the crisp afternoon air, cool against her lungs. She always loved it here.

“So,” Ann said, turning around on her side and peering into his eyes. “What’s the plan?”

“Want me to tell you, or would you prefer it be a surprise?” He’d kept walking with hands in his pockets, his lips curving into the beginning of a smile.

Ann grinned. “Surprise me.”

Ren grinned back.

The first agenda of the day was a swan boat—one of the top tourist attractions of the park. Ren had apparently accompanied Yusuke on a ride once, where several people had thought them a couple. He had wanted to ride it with Ann after that. But when the rental place came into view, standing in the distance over the bank of the large pond, Ann ground her feet to a halt. Legend had it that the Goddess Benzaiten would curse any couple who rode the swan boat together. They would break up shortly thereafter.

“You really want to ride the boat?” Ann asked.

Noticing she had stayed back, Ren paused on his steps, tilting his head in genuine inquiry. “Why?” he asked. Ann refused to say why, partly because it was a ludicrous legend, partly because she feared the legend might come true. Understanding dawned on his face when she said nothing, and Ren pulled his lips into a teasing grin. “What, you’re afraid of some superstition?”

There were valid reasons one should be afraid of it. What if something bad truly happened to them and they broke up?

“If something bad truly happens and we break up,” Ren went on, “you can just blame the curse and forget all about me.”

Ann scoffed, feeling his reply was ridiculous enough to lighten her mood. “I could never forget you,” she said. Her answer brought a smile to his face, and Ren reached out to take her hand.

“That’s why I’m saying we should get on the boat and prove the legend wrong. Besides, would you really let some curse get between us?”

The answer was obvious as Ann felt her lips pulled into a quiet grin. He tugged her hand, then led her to the boat rental place.

It was her first time riding the boat too. It seemed fun, but she never had the chance to ride it. “Next time” had been her reason. If she thought about it now, there were no particular reasons behind it. Why? She could’ve ridden on it with Shiho if she wanted. Had Ann ingrained the curse so deep in her mind that she became incapacitated because of it? Because even without the bad luck, her life had already been a hell of its own.

People had shunned her. Some had even bullied her. She’d tried not to let it get to her, but for a twelve- or thirteen-year-old, peer pressure had been enough to corner her and make her think of the worst. Should I dye my hair black and wear contact lenses? If I look like everyone else, people may start to like me. These thoughts had spiraled down in her mind with no signs of stopping. She was always alone; her parents were never home. She had no one to depend on—until Shiho, but even that light only lasted three years before she was taken away from her.

Paddling the swan boat was harder than it looked. And with a difference in strength, it was hard to coordinate their movements. Ann would think their time in the metaverse had strengthened her muscles, but that did not seem like the case.

“You don’t look like it, but you’re pretty strong, aren’t you?” Ann said, huffing and puffing her breath.

Ren wasn’t entirely active in gym class either. He wasn’t the strongest nor the fastest. When the boys played soccer or basketball, he would always sit back. “I hate breaking a sweat,” he’d said once. Yet every time they were in the metaverse, he always looked like he was ready to show off.

Ren chuckled under his breath. “I’ve been going to the gym. Morgana nagged me to strengthen my muscles.”

Figures. The cat was behind everything. She should follow his example and visit the gym more often.

Wait—

“Where is Morgana?” Ann hadn’t seen him since morning.

Ren’s smile was wry. “When I told him I’ll be going on a date with you, he turned around and flicked his tail at me.”

“Poor guy. You should buy him something. What about sushi?”

“I should buy you something.”

Ann clicked her tongue in irritation then stared him down, her eyes hard. “You never gave him those tuna sushi, right?” He never did, from all the way back in August—Ann knew. Ren quickly relented, averting his gaze and finding some interesting spot to observe on the water. “It won’t be the high-end sushi bar like in Ginza, but I’m sure there are some delicious ones around here.”

“Then,” he said, “we’re having sushi for dinner.”

***

Massive trees lined the pond on either side. In the spring, pink and white sakura petals decorated the trees in its transient beauty. Ann often sat on the benches, under the awning of the low-hanging branches and overlooking the pond. She imagined that rowing a boat in the middle of it would feel like traversing through a forest. The thick foliage obscured the view of passers-by and park-goers, making it seem like she was in a dreamscape or fantasy, where there was only herself and nature.

That was what Ann felt now that she was sitting on a boat in the middle of the pond. But instead of sakura, the trees were now lined with gold and red and yellow with a dash of green here and there. They had stopped paddling, resting their legs. They’d gone quite far, their boat rocking between the gentle waves. Late sunlight dappled across the water surface. When a cool, crisp wind that brushed past her skin like a soft caress against her face, Ann watched the water rippling along with it. By the bank, leaves danced in the wind, swirling and dipping and soaring high until they flew out of sight.

“Having fun?” Ren asked. Ann nodded, drawing a quiet, contented breath. She felt his smile more than she saw it, before he shifted his gaze away and said, “I heard you’ve been wanting to ride the boat.”

That caught her attention. She turned to him.

“Who did you hear it from?”

“Shiho.” The answer rolled easily off his tongue, as though it was apparent. If Ren were any other person, Ann would have thought he might have heard it in passing or from Shiho herself. But he barely knew Shiho—barely talked to her before the incident in April—so how could he have known? He didn’t give her a chance to ask before he glanced behind his shoulder and said, “The sun almost set.”

The far eastern sky had grown a deep blazing orange while the sun made its slow descent behind them, sending out the last of its rays before dipping under the horizon. Ann swallowed her question as she moved to paddle alongside Ren to turn the boat around. They’d gotten the hang of it, finding the perfect rhythm between his paddling and hers. They reached the rental space by the time the sun completely disappeared.

Hand in hand, they headed for the gate leading toward Kichijoji. Various kinds of stores stood on both sides. From second-hand boutiques to chic cafes, furniture stores and handmade accessory stores. Ren’s focus had been on his phone for a while, typing one-handed as text message after text message came with each vibration and incoming beep.

“Who’re you talking with?” Ann asked.

“Hm? Oh, Sojiro.” The slight pause had tugged her curiosity, but when he met her inquiring gaze, Ren only said, “He’s making sure I don’t go home too late.”

That was nice, Ann thought, to have someone to worry about when he would get home. She didn’t have anyone like that.

Ren messed with his phone for a while longer. When Ann peeked, she noticed the map open on his screen. ‘Sushi bar’ was the search item and several red dots had appeared. Ren clicked and unclicked each dot, reading the descriptions and the reviews left on it, until he finally decided on a place and led her to it.

His phone beeped again. Another incoming message. Ann glanced at him right as Ren sent his reply.

“Boss again?”

Sojiro didn’t seem like the type to worry so much. Hadn’t he let Ren out on nights? Ren’s ambiguous nod only fed her suspicion that he was hiding something. She opened her mouth then, about to say something, when they rounded a corner and a voice she hadn’t expected to hear reach her ear.

“Ann.”

Ann froze.

Soft and meek, it was a voice she hadn’t heard in person for months. The last time Ann heard it was when they brought her to the school rooftop before she moved away. Ann slowly turned around in search of the source, and there, some twenty feet ahead, was a person she hadn’t expected to see. Dressed in a navy-blue jacket and white cropped trousers, her black hair tied in its usual ponytail, Shiho’s features lit up by the smile blossoming across her face. She held her hand high above her head, waving at her excitedly.

“Aren’t you going to say hi?” Ren asked when Ann failed to react.

He was beaming, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. Did he know? Did he plan this? Nonsense. Didn’t he know how far Shiho’s home now was? How had she even gotten to this place? On a school day, no less. Then there was her message that morning. Sorry we can’t celebrate together like we used to. Shiho wouldn’t have said that if she’d planned to come. She wasn’t the type to surprise Ann like this. But—

I’m sure Ren-kun has prepared something amazing for you.

Ann slowly shifted her attention to her still-beaming boyfriend, who was nodding his head toward Shiho as if trying to say, go on. Go to her.

“Did you plan this?” Her voice was only above a whisper.

He replied with a shrug and a knowing smile. Maybe he thought this was what she wanted, and maybe it was—she’d said so herself; she wanted to meet Shiho. But as Ann loosened her hold on Ren’s hand and all she wanted was to cross the distance and hug Shiho with all her might—because Shiho was here! She’d travelled all the way here!—Ann found herself hitting Ren’s arm instead. Again and again and again—hitting him with a fist as, one by one, tears rolled down her cheeks.

Why did he bring Shiho here? Didn’t Ren know her friend was still in recovery? Didn’t he know she was still going to rehab every week? Ann knew, because Ann had been in touch with Shiho every other day. They’d texted each other and called each other. Ann knew everything that was going on in Shiho’s life as though she lived it herself. And Ann knew that every day was still a struggle, even though Shiho had said she could almost do everything by herself now. But almost was still not one hundred percent everything. Her physician praised her for improving so much in so little time, but they’d told her to not push her limit. And travelling was clearly pushing the limit.

What if something bad happened to Shiho on the way? What if Shiho could never return to how she once was?

Arms wrapped around her. Shiho rested her cheek on Ann’s shoulder, warm tears seeping into her school blazer.

“I’m alright, Ann,” Shiho whispered to her ear, over and over like a mantra. “I’m safe.”

***

“I’ll leave you two to catch up,” Ren said before he disappeared from the bar. Ann watched him leave from their seat by the corner. They’d ordered several sushi sets, Ren promising to pay for everything. From his part-time jobs, he’d explained to Shiho. Though there was probably some truth to his words, Ann knew most of it came from their Palace pilfering.

Silence descended, broken only when Shiho said, “Don’t blame him too much, Ann.”

Ann glanced at her friend before shifting her gaze to her hands. “I’m happy you’re here with me now, Shiho, but…” She shook her head. “Once we return, I’m going to give him a piece of my mind. How could he have thought of bringing you all the way back to Tokyo?” If their sushi had arrived, Ann imagined she would have taken out her irritation on them. It’s not that she disliked Shiho’s presence. Just that…

“I wanted to.” Shiho’s quiet reply drew Ann’s attention to her. “I want to celebrate your birthday with you. And more than anything, I wanted to show you how well I’ve gotten.” Her lips quirked into a small smile, brightening her features. “And it’s not like I went alone. Mom’s here somewhere.”

“Your mom?”

Shiho gave a self-deprecating chuckle. “I got an earful, though.”

“Serves you right! If you wanted us to meet, I could’ve gone to your place instead. In fact, we were just talking about that this afternoon.”

“But that wouldn’t have been a surprise.”

A muscle twitched along Ann’s jaw as Shiho let out another light laugh. Ann clenched both of her hands on the table, gritting her teeth at her friend’s nonchalant attitude.

“Don’t overestimate your body, Shiho, please. Didn’t the doctor say you shouldn’t push yourself? You’re not your one hundred percent yet. What if something irreversibly bad happens? Yes, it’s great to hear your health has gotten better and I can’t wait to hang out with you again, but—”

Shiho’s crippled form flashed across her mind. Her throat closed up; tears sprang in her eyes as Ann furiously blinked them away. When she spoke next, she couldn’t hide the tremble in her voice:

“I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.” If Shiho’s rush to return to her full potential backfired, Ann didn’t know if she could forgive herself.

The server brought their sushi with three glasses of cold green tea. Ann averted her gaze, brushing at a stray tear as she took out her phone and mumbled something about telling Ren the food had arrived. However, before she could, Shiho’s hand encompassed hers.

“Do you still blame yourself?” her friend asked.

Ann went still. “I don’t,” she said, even as her heart clenched tight and her breath caught in her throat.

“It’s not your fault, Ann.”

She knew that. She thought she did. That was why Carmen woke up from inside her. But then there were moments when she lay in the dark, when thoughts she never knew she ever had kept her awake the entire night.

Your fault. Your fault. Your fault. You should’ve noticed the signs. You should’ve known she was suffering. Even if there had been nothing you could’ve done, you should’ve been there for her at the least. You’re her friend! Why had you let her feel so alone, so cornered, that the only consolation she could find was on the other side of the rooftop ledge?

Shiho pulled her into her arms, whispering soothing words to her ear. “It’s alright. It’s okay. I’m fine. It’s not your fault, Ann. It never was.”

The dam broke. Ann clutched onto Shiho’s back as tears she never realized she had held streamed down her face.

***

Maybe it was an excuse—checking up on Shiho, or going to the sweets store near her school. All Ann ever wanted was to see her friend healthy again so they could have fun like they used to.

When Ren returned to his seat, Ann ended up giving him a piece of her mind. A little more nagging and scolding and refusing to speak with him for the rest of the day. Shiho joked that it must have been Benzaiten’s curse, at which Ren laughed and Ann frowned.

“We’re not breaking up,” Ann said with certainty.

Shiho and Ren looked at her in surprise, after which Shiho said to Ren, “You heard her, Ren-kun.” They snickered at Ann’s expanse.

Shiho’s mother had gone to Kichijoji’s shopping arcade before she went to pick her daughter up at the sushi bar. Ann drew an internal sigh of relief when she saw no signs of vexations on her face as she greeted Ann with a smile. When the girls introduced Ren, however, there was a frozen stillness to her features that even made the unflappable Ren break out in sweats.

They waved her goodbye, but before they turned around the corner to wherever her mother parked her car, Shiho turned around once and shouted, “Come over sometimes, okay?” Shiho beamed, waving her hand high, then disappeared from view.

“You heard her,” Ren said. She did.

Ren offered his hand, but Ann only spared it a glance before turning her back on him and heading down the opposite direction from Shiho. Ren fell into step beside her.

“I’ll walk you home,” he said.

“No need.”

“Even so.”

Night had fallen. Lights flickered along the storefronts and windows. Conversations floated around as they walked in silence between passers-by in the shopping district.

As they turned the corner and headed back toward the park, Ann murmured, “Thanks.”

She’d acted strong—acted like she had accepted everything. That was never the case. A part of her—an insecure part of her—always came in the middle of the night to whisper despicable things about herself. Fake. Impostor. She only joined the Phantom Thieves because she felt guilty about Shiho. She’d sought to change the hearts of vile adults so no one would have to suffer like her again. It was true, but that was only half of the truth. In all honesty, Ann wanted to seek forgiveness. A redemption. If she accomplished many good deeds, maybe the Gods would hear her prayer and give Shiho her health back.

As the park came into view, Ann felt Ren’s gaze on her. She still refused to meet it, but let her face break into a tiny crack of a smile. The twinge of pain in her heart gradually subsided, leaving her feeling liberated, as though a heavy weight had been lifted off her mind.

~ END ~

#ann takamaki #ren amamiya #shiho suzui #shuann #renann #persona #persona 5 #fanfiction #persona fanfic #p5 fanfic #annweek2020

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can-i-stay-awake · 4 years

Text

Flower Bouquet: Moonflowers (Seonghwa x Reader) Part 1

Warnings: Insomnia? We’re not far into that boat yet, my angels

Genre: Fluff, Romance, Slow burn

Word Count: 2k

Series Masterlist

Spring’s warm breeze caresses your cheeks as you make your way to your school. You adjust the short sleeves of your summer uniform. You quite liked it. Crisp white school blouse with the very end of the sleeves lines with the same red tartan as your skirt and black tie. Though many of the female students chose to wear white knee highs, you couldn’t be bothered to shave this week so you wore black tights. To be honest, no one actually cared whether you shaved them or not but to you, it’s a matter of confidence. For such a rich school with rich or smart students gifted with scholarships, the people there aren’t as bad as you thought they would be. Of course there are the populars and whatnot but if ignored they ignore you. It’s really not your forte, speaking with people. You can’t say you’re introverted, but there’s no one who really connects to you.

It hasn’t been long since you’ve transferred here. Being a scholarship student is hard when all people care about it your money and looks… Or so you thought. After standing up for yourself to many various people and even publicly humiliating one of the most feared bullies in school, Kang Yeosang, you are neither glorified nor bullied. Though your classmates in English particularly enjoy your company to the point where you think you should just rename yourself, “Hey, what did you get for question six?”. You’ve only made friends with Yuna, a cute little (extremely tall) bespectacled girl whose potty mouth could possibly give sailors a run for their money.

“Y/n! Do you know what happened last weekend?” Yuna’s blonde hair dances in the light summer breeze. Her loud voice snaps you out of your thoughts.

“What happened, Yuna? Did a goat break through your garden fence?” You reply sarcastically, linking your arms together. Her warmth gives you a little comfort.

“No, I wish. I want a pet goat. My brother’s getting married!” Yuna’s gorgeous amber eyes have drops of sunlight swimming in them and you can’t help but smile.

“Oh? Tell him I said congratulations”

“Will do. I’ll also ask if he wants a goat” She flashes a cheeky grin.

“I don’t think he wants anymore goats in the house. You’re good enough” You snicker, squeezing her arm tighter after she punches you in the arm playfully. Your feet clatter against the pavement and you two cross the polished school entrance.

For you, school is more of a place to learn rather than a place to socialise. Unlike others, who use this school as a place for their popularity to thrive, you are among those who keep their heads down and only have a select few to mingle with. You met the bubbly blonde on your first day as she showed you the way to biology, her sassy sweet dual personality humoured you and you two immediately clicked. Sadly, Yuna is more of an artistic person and you only have English together. So instead of sticking together, you are forced to part.

The low hum of the biology teacher’s voice just barely reaches you, your hands scribble at your paper like you’re trying to win a war as you frantically note everything he says down. The scent of oranges fills the classroom. In a way, it’s how you feel at home in biology. Today the teacher is going especially fast with her notes. Pain ebbs at your wrists and you let your eyes wander around the classroom. They travel to the windows, the glass pane reflecting the light of the sun, then they travel to the colourful diagrams made by other classes and they finally fell on the neat, colour coded notes of your desk mate, Park Seonghwa.

His handwriting isn’t very special, but the way the letters are spaced out makes it look mature and refined. The dark haired boy even has a blue colour scheme: azure, cobalt and cyan dotted across the page framed by drawn on silver stars.

Truth be told, both you and Seonghwa are quite shy so the only conversation you’ve actually shared this week was when he didn’t have a pencil because he let Hongjoong borrow his. But you two know each other well and even have a few inside jokes. You two tried to hold a conversation about you two signing up to tutor struggling students but Wooyoung burst in screeching about god knows what. It’s not like you to blurt random things out but before you can stop yourself, you whisper in awe.

“Wow, your notes are super neat. You could put that on study gram…”

Seonghwa’s face visibly brightens from the praise, a smile briefly on his face before returning to his textbook. You never notice the faint rings under his eyes once his stops smiling. “Oh, thanks Y/n”

You were always a little curious about Park Seonghwa, but you never realised how intriguing he is. Little things like the way he acts all cute with Hongjoong to get his attention, and how he has nearly a motherly impact on even the outcasts like Kang Yeosang by letting him keep the black raincoat he was forced to borrow when you can see from the dark haired boy’s shoes that they are a little beaten up. Of course, since he’s so organised, no one even notices the way he secretly calculates his lunch money instead of just pressing his card on the scanner. You too, are practically broke but you can afford decent shoes without worrying about the price. These little things that tend to slip other’s minds are tattooed into your eyesight, highlighted in fluorescent colours.

A few days later, once again in biology, his complexion looks seedy and tired. His skin is dull and the charismatic glow in his voice is jaded. Throughout the week, he becomes progressively more scatterbrained. Like that time in computing science when he dropped his earphones and bashed his head on the upside of his computing desk while trying to retrieve it, and the time he literally forgot his pencil case. The teachers look concerned and it’s quite evident they’ve already checked up on him only to be faced with a half assed reassuring smile.

“Jesus, Seonghwa looks like a mess… I feel bad for the poor guy.” Yuna exclaims, “He’s running for student council president but if he’s like this, he’ll faint dead away. Should I check up on him?” You two watch him practically sleepwalking to his form room, his footsteps dragging and hands rubbing at his eyes. Yuna has an eye for these things too, perhaps she’s not as attentive as you, but definitely more than most.

“Yeah, I’m thinking of doing just that. He’s a zombie.”

Two days pass and Seonghwa looks a little better after Hongjoong practically forced him to sleep, threatening to throw confetti at him which he had brought from the art room. You’ve been trying to find the right time since you can’t just go, “Oh hi, you look like shit. Are you good?” And biology seems too far away for you to communicate, but you decide to wait until then. But somehow, it’s like the gods placed the keys right in your hands and shoved you towards him when you meet him in the supermarket. You buy two packets of strawberries, one for yourself and another for Seonghwa. He smiles at you but his face is now painted over with thick coats of fatigue and the concern probably shows on your face because he stifles a yawn.

“Hey” You greet him, queuing behind him in the long ass line you wish would just move already.

“Hi, Y/n. How have you been doing?”

“Good, you?”

“Good” It’s hard to continue a conversation like this, but you stubbornly press on. Seonghwa looks tired but he’s not facing away from you either and you’ve got his full attention. “Really? You’ve been looking rough nowadays. You should take care of your health. Don’t you always nag Wooyoung, Hongjoong and Jongho about the exact same thing?”

“Oh, how do you know that?” He fakes surprise, trying to steer the topic away from him. You can’t pressure him to say he’s not fine, but you sigh.

“Yuna and Hongjoong are friends. You did hear what I said, right? Take care of your health” You nag and he pouts.

“I am, Y/n. It’s just the election is stressing me out a little.” His eyes swerve to the bottom left, an obvious lie.

“Alright, but I can help you with it. Okay? You’re a literal zombie nowadays. Even our English teacher realised that you’re not in good spirits, and she’s more oblivious and air headed than a four year old”

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry for worrying you, I’ll take care of myself” He giggles, you can see the colour rising in his cheeks after a light hearted conversation. You’re not really that good with words, but if it makes him feel better, you’ll gladly do so.

The line progresses, and he lets you go first. Scanning the two boxes of strawberries and placing one in your schoolbag. You wait outside for the boy to scan various groceries and sweets and as he approaches the doorway you stop him.

“Seonghwa”

He turns around, the orange light of the evening sun blazing in his eyes. His dark hair dances in the wind.

“Take this” You hand him the box of strawberries and he’s lost for words, blushing and stammering.

It’s cute.

Very cute.

“Y/n, I r-really can’t take this! It’s yours!” He tries to hand it back to you but you firmly press the transparent container to his chest.

“Yeah, well I accidentally took two. This one’s for Yuna” You shake the bag you’re holding in your right hand. “I don’t like strawberries anyway”

His gaze is skeptical but he smiles sweetly and thanks you profusely. “Sure… Thank you so much Y/n! I’ll pay you back somehow, kay?”

“Park Seonghwa, you pay me back I break your back” You bark, but you let out a small laugh and he does too.

“Gosh, I ought to hire bodyguards” The light that Seonghwa’s eyes hold is so vibrant not even the milky way could hold a candle to the sparkles swimming in his warm gaze. “Thank you again, Y/n” He yells as he walks away from you.

“No problem, have a nice day and make sure to get some sleep” You holler back. As you make your way back home, your heart bubbles and fizzes like the drinks you see Mingi consume on a daily basis.

That night, you sleep well. No emptiness, no gaping void, no nightmares.

Just the comfort of your bed in the sea of your blankets.

It’s too bright this morning, too pretty with the flowers decorating the school entrance, too ethereal with the honey glow of the sun kissing your skin. Though it’s a little too hot, you keep a mini fan in your school bag and sunscreen to prevent anyone from dying.

“Hey, Yuna! I gave Seonghwa a box of strawberries after I met him in the grocery shop!”

“And good morning to you too” Yuna raises a brow, her eyes no longer framed by glasses but the faint outline of her contact lenses over her irises. She grins as you hand her a box. “For me?”

“For you” You smile as you two walk to school together.

“Hey! He looks better today!” You nudge her excitedly as you see the tall, handsome boy massaging red headed Hongjoong’s shoulders, exclaiming about how stiff he is. Though his energy isn’t up to 100%, you’re happy that he’s improving.

Or so you think.

“Seonghwa! Your votes are nearly taking the lead!” Yunho exclaims as they check the little website Wooyoung composed for the student council election.

“Oh? That’s nice” Yunho furrows his brow at Seonghwa’s nonchalant attitude.

“Are you okay? You look like you’re about to faint…” Yunho steadies the smaller of the two in his chair. Seonghwa giggles.

“You don’t need to worry about me, Yunho. I’ll go to the nurse’s if I’m not feeling great” He smiles, exhausted.

The brunet narrows his eyes, “Sure… I’m getting someone to check up on you, I have a meeting in the art club. Don’t move” Yunho rushes out the doorway only to meet you, on your phone checking your emails.

“Y/n, Seonghwa looks like he’s going to pass out. Could you keep an eye on him, please?”

“You don’t need to do that! I’m fine!” Seonghwa yells from the classroom but his voice is groggy, “and you definitely don’t need to do anything!” You look at Yunho, nodding and entering the classroom.

“Enjoy art club Yun-”

Thump.

You and Yunho pause to see an unconscious Seonghwa sliding sideways off of his chair and onto the floor. His hair flying to one side and his eyes fluttering shut.

“Shit!” You dash to Seonghwa side and Yunho calls out his name. “We should get him to the nurses!”

Yunho nods and you raise his legs into Yunho’s arms until the brown haired boy stabilises his grip on Seonghwa, still knocked out. You open the doors for Yunho as he dashes to the nurses, you feel agony shoot through your heart like an arrow when you see the elder’s head lolling in Yunho’s embrace. The students around you clear a pathway, murmurs filling your ears and looks of concern covering your vision.

The nurse, who everyone calls Minnie, puts Seonghwa in a comfortable position on entering, you realise Hongjoong already there gasping for breath. He probably caught wind of Seonghwa fainting and dashed to the office.

“Sorry kids, only one of you can stay. It’s better not to startle Mr. Park.” Minnie’s soft voice soothes everyone’s panic. Even Hongjoong’s posture is slightly more relaxed, you've never seen him without his overly perfect stance and you're reminded that perhaps the redhead isn't as studious as he comes across. Yunho nods, rushing off to the art club, Hongjoong looks longingly over his shoulder as he leaves.

”I’ll stay.” You announce. Nurse Minnie nods and pulls over a chair for you adjacent to Seonghwa’s freshly made bed. After opening a window and letting the breeze sway the curtains, you settle in and sit beside Seonghwa. His curls are splayed out on his pillow in such a disorganised but perfect way.

”Y/n..?” A voice deep with fatigue calls out to you and you have to restrain yourself from jumping up to the call.

”Seonghwa...” Is all you can say as he groans and shuffles his pillows. You give him a glass of water and colour bleeds back into his face.

”Hey.” He smiles, rubbing at his eyes.

”Is that all you can say when you've practically overworked yourself to the point of fainting?” You manage to keep your voice soft but you know he can hear the pout in your voice. ”Hwa...” Gently cupping one hand around his wrist, you see concealer on the finger he used to rub his eye with. You look back up at his face and a hint of dark circles are more evident on his porcelain face.

”I should get better concealer... Don't look at me like that, your expression looks like a cat eating a lemon, down to a cinch.” He chuckles but the smile doesn't reach his eyes. The aroma of citrus (with a hint of candy) fills the room. It reminds you of biology class and you realise the scent is coming from him.

“What do you even do? And why does it get in the way of your sleep? Is it insomnia?” You try to coax an answer from him, but you know you can only go far. “You don’t need to tell me, but it might help to tell someone” Seonghwa grins, sinking further into his covers.

“You don’t need to worry about me” He whispers, and you see his legs adapt the fetal position.

“But I do, because you’re my friend.”

“Am I?” Seonghwa’s dark eyes are once again all a-glimmer, his eyebrows are raised in surprise. It’s as if you’ve offered him a lifetimes supply of strawberries.

You stop yourself from doubling over and giggling, perhaps you understand why girls and boys alike look at Seonghwa the way they do. His calm and cool demeanour is alluring but those rare times where he opens up is what pulls you in. “Of course” You smile, and perhaps the blush dusted on Seonghwa cheeks isn’t a hallucination.

“If you really want to know, I’m busy looking after my younger cousins, Jihyo and Daehyun. My siblings and parents are barely home.”

“Seonghwa...” Concern once again bleeds into your face but the latter interjects before it settles.

“They’re super adorable though! And well behaved! It’s nothing to worry about” But one look at the dark patches under his eyes tell you otherwise.

“If you’re fainting due to exhaustion, it is a big deal”

“It was super hot today though, it could have been because of that” His long fingers run through his hair and it falls perfectly back into place. You’re tempted to ask what shampoo he uses but you snap out of it. “Seonghwa. Do you want me to help?”

“Help? It’s not a big deal!”

“If I bought Hongjoong here-“ You could see in his expression that he was awaiting Hongjoong’s nagging ever since you told him that Hongjoong and Yunho brought him here.

“No! Fine... He’ll nag my ear off” Red lips form a pout, his head drops. “He talks for so long that he ends up repeating everything he says and if you try and argue he starts all over again”

“I know. Remember when Jongho sprained his ankle playing basketball?” Hongjoong’s normally quiet and composed voice thundered throughout the hallways so loudly even the teachers dared not to intervene.

“Exactly, I’ll die. You don’t want me to die, do you y/n?” Seonghwa looks up at you and uses the type of gaze you give teachers when you want to skip PE. He pouts even harder and when you grumble, he giggles.

“I’m still coming over. If you’re not well rested by the time I’m finished playing with your cousin I’m moving in” Though these are jokes you usually pull with closer friends, something about your relationship with Seonghwa connects. You feel your presence calming him down and his soothing the creases on your brow.

“I got it” He giggles and covers his mouth with his hand. ”When are you free? I'm free all week, including today”

”Hmm, I have to help out Hongjoong with student council shit today... Is it alright if I come tomorrow?”

”Sure! I'm positive Jihyo will enjoy some company. Daehyun is a little older and introverted, but she's tired looking after her younger sister too. We can look after them together” That’s not your plan, but you nod and smile.

After school that next day, you wait for Seonghwa outside the gates. Unlike the cute, laid back persona he adapted in the nurse’s office the other day, his posture is perfect and his movements as elegant as a swan. It’s a facade, but a natural one that doesn’t stem from bad pasts. It’s just Seonghwa.

You like ‘just Seonghwa’.

”Y/n!” He waves and you wave back as his feet pick up the pace. ”Hey” He looks a little brazen, and you wonder if Hongjoong’s nagged him for returning to school beforehand.

”Hey Seonghwa! Did you stay in the nurse’s office or did you go to class yesterday? I didn’t see you leave”

”I had French. What do you think?” Seonghwa loathes his French teacher, who always makes loud noises and is way too animated and not focused enough on teaching. Seonghwa says that he seems like a nice person but he's not good enough of a teacher. You've yet to meet this man but you'd rather not if he ”has an attention span of a seven-year-old on a sugar high”. You two have some small talk until you reach his neighbourhood. ”Y/n, we need to be super careful. This isn't a good area.” He looks embarrassed and you try to wipe the anxious look on his face.

”I live pretty nearby, don’t worry. No fear! I have a death stare stronger than... I don’t know, who has really good death stare game?”

“Medusa?” He chuckles.

“Medusa!” You giggle and you spot the tips of his ears flush.

“I don’t have that much of an intimidating stare-“ Seonghwa is interrupted by a loud cat call in your direction, something about how your cute uniform would look cuter on the floor. “Fuck off!” He yells and the man is about to square up until you both shoot him a warning glare. You clutch the hockey stick in your hand you carry for PE and he leaves.

“I’ve never heard you curse before...” The Seonghwa you know is always poised and perfect, a gentle aura follows his wake as an ethereal glow does with an angel. He’s the one that whacks Wooyoung and San over the head with a rolled up chemistry booklet whenever they let a few foul words pass so you’d never imagine that kind of language. It was yet another side of Park Seonghwa you’ve just discovered.

“I’ve never seen you with such a face before...” You two both start laughing. He pulls out his phone and types frantically at his keyboard. Something motherly and caring lingers on his face as he picks up the phone and loving asks whom you presume is Daehyun, to be careful on the bus home.

“Aww, what a caring brother”

Seonghwa flashes a painful smile your way. It’s one of the cutest things about him, you think. “She’s a scatterbrain. I can’t let her out of my sight! Little sisters are a handful I swear”

You laugh at the overly exaggerated pout and huff that graces his features.

“Oh, how’s the student council election going?” Seonghwa brushes his hair back with one hand and nervously chuckles.

“I’m second place, but Hongjoong is pretty far ahead. I don’t actually mind very much. I just thought it would look good on my resume. Hongjoong is more the leader type, but if I’m being honest, I don’t think he wants to be elected” His eyes met yours and you admire the emotional intellect he holds to see past Hongjoong’s quiet and distant mask. He’s very extroverted when people come up to him, but whenever he’s alone you think that there’s a different world he sees through those starry eyes.

“Oh? Why so?”

Seonghwa’s walking pace slows a little, “It’s a guess, but Hongjoong’s parents seem to pressure him a lot. His grades, to be exact. Maybe I’m wrong, and maybe he has super nice parents. But I don’t think that’s likely” His gaze is downcast and pity pangs at your heart.

“Oh no...” You look at your black polished shoes and the flutter of your skirt as the grey pavement moves along with your footfalls.

“All families have at least something to deal with. Some problems bigger than others” The two of you exit the dark alleyway into a block of Tennant flats and he fumbles for his keys as you cross the third one. “Where are you going, Y/n?” He chuckles as you accidentally pass the red door to his house.

“Ah! Whoops! I went to the direction of my house by mistake!” You chuckle and wait patiently for him to unlock the door. A pastel yellow chick key charm swings as the silver of his keys shine in the streetlights. ”Cute charm”

Seonghwa blushes. ”Oh, Daehyun got matching ones for us at a school festival. It's totally unlike her too, she's kind of well... See for yourself, she's probably home by now”

The creak of the doorway makes you want to oil it right away but you stay put. Seonghwa takes his somehow unscratched and polished shoes on the mat and you do. “Sorry, I tried to clean but it’s a bit messy”

Pearly white sofas blessed your vision, not a single hair nor stain defacing it, the oak floor gleamed like water in the sunlight. The marble dining table sparkled, an equally clean vase where a single (artificial) pink rose sat. In baskets suspended by chains by the windows, there lay a few moonflowers nearly in bloom. The furniture isn’t very expensive, perhaps a little more than outside your budget, but the pristine perfect polishing made the place look like a palace.

“Messy? What’s clean to you?” You gasp in astonishment as he leads you to the living room where a blonde girl and a dark haired toddler sat.

“Hey, Daehyun. Hiya, Jihyo! How was school?” Seonghwa’s loving tone changes to a cooing, sweet one when addressing Jihyo. Jihyo runs into Seonghwa’s arms and he lifts her up, giggling. She replies with something about finger painting.

Daehyun’s blank gaze turns to you, a hint of curiosity in her eye. She waves at you calmly and you return it. “Hey, Daehyun, isn’t it?”

“Yep. Hi, Y/n. Can I call you that?”

“You can call me anything unless it’s “lady hand me down”, I’ve heard that so many times I’m ready to go on a killing spree” You joke, and Daehyun smiles slightly.

“Jihyo, this is Y/n. We can all play together!” Seonghwa giggles in his sing-song-y drawl. He puts her down and her brown eyes shift to you, assessing you in a little kid way before giggling.

“Hiya! I’m Jihyo~” She lisps, her words slightly broken but adorable all the same. You coo and crouch down to give her a high five.

“How was school, Dae?” Seonghwa turns to the middle child, who huffs in annoyance.

“They never serve the good food. If I die of food poisoning, I’m suing them. They ruined salmon for me” You expect Seonghwa to chuckle, but he looks dead serious as he rolls his white sleeves up.

“That’s abuse. Shouldn’t they give you good food so that you can learn better? What non edible junk do they give you? How bad does it taste that it ruined salmon for you?” Daehyun replies with a gagging noise and they chuckle. You stare at her for a little, Daehyun is a lot like Seonghwa. Cold exterior, warm interior. Perhaps even colder than him, but easy to thaw.

Jihyo waddles up to you after retrieving something from her vibrant pink toy box in the corner. “Blocks?”

“You wanna play with them, Jihyo?” Seonghwa asks, his lips are upturned in a huge dorky grin and you feel your heart melt at the sight.

“Seonghwa, you are to rest” You order in what you hope is an authoritative tone.

It isn’t.

“Seonghwa, you are to rest” He mocks your high pitches tone and pinches your nose. “Heard this from Hongjoong, not from you, please!” He pouts but you, though it takes a lot of willpower, don’t give in.

“Nope, go to bed”

“Y/n, will I have to go to bed!?” Jihyo pouts, and you wonder if it runs in the family.

“Not you, angel” You smile softly.

Daehyun looks up from her chemistry textbook and sighs, “Go. To. Sleep. Seonghwa. Or. I’ll-”

Seonghwa jolts and rushes across the room, the action reminding you of the Angry Birds slingshot animation and covers her mouth, face red and fuming. ”Daehyun, you better not blab” He squeaks and Daehyun blinks, his hand still over her mouth.

“Then sleep, dumbass. Take some rest, or else I’ll knock you out” Her muffled voice makes you laugh a little.

“Isn’t that normal sibling stuff? You know, dumb threats?”

Seonghwa’s eyes widen in seriousness, “No, I swear, she actually means it sometimes. She once put a sleeping pill in my milk, the snake”

“I did” Daehyun’s comically monotone voice back him up, her eyes not once leaving her book.

“I should have you arrested” He jokes and she smirks, “But I shouldn’t leave a guest here alone. It’s bad manners”

“I came here so you could rest, Hwa. Please take some rest.” You tell him. Seonghwa looks troubled and he sighs.

“I’ll still be in this room to check up on you guys. But thanks” His looks a little stressed but after you make Jihyo laugh. Perhaps it’s the wave of relief the he feels, but the atmosphere in the room brightens, the orange hue of the evening sunshine painting streaks across your faces.

Jihyo is extremely energetic, but when she sees you try to stifle a yawn, she lets out a concerned squeak. “Are you tired? Do you want to take a nap?” She asks, and you find it amazing how such a young child can read your emotions so well.

“I’m alright, Jihyo, angel”

“Why do you call me that?” She stutters in her cute drawl.

“Yeah, have you seen the Biblical versions of them?” Daehyun jokes, somehow managing to hear you from her electric blue headphones.

“Well, angels are very cute. And they bring happiness to people!”

“My mommy says all I bring her is-“ Seonghwa, who you thought was asleep, suddenly sits up from the couch and coughs. Jihyo is silenced immediately.

“Please, excuse us” The dark haired boy picks up his young cousin and leads her to the side room to your left. His expression isn’t angry, but worried.

You have a gut feeling that perhaps Jihyo had no choice but to observe the emotions of the people surrounding her.

Daehyun’s growls under her breath.

“Is everything alright? Y-you don’t need to tell me, I don’t mean to meddle-“

“No, it’s fine. It’s just that our Auntie isn’t very nice. Me and Seonghwa just have busy parents, but Jihyo’s mum isn’t... Fit to be a parent” Her voice his still expressionless, not a hint of pity. She sounded as if she were giving a presentation. But her fists are clenched by he side. “Poor kid. She doesn’t know that her mum’s an asshole. She just thinks it’s how people show love. She’s only been here for a month or so, so Seonghwa and I are trying to help her out”

“Family is... A sensitive subject, huh? Is there even such thing as a perfect family like in the movies?” You didn’t mean to say it out loud, but Daehyun nods.

“Nope, don’t think so”

You feel the happy, cheerful morale drop into the pit of the earth as Seonghwa and Jihyo exit the room. Seonghwa looks more shaken than the surprisingly cheerful girl holding his hand.

“Dae, you don’t mind watching her for a little bit right? Call me if you need anything” He suddenly pulls you up and takes an umbrella out of the store cupboard by the shoe rack of his doorway.

“Kay, go” Daehyun hops off of the couch to watch TV with Jihyo on the couch, cuddling her as if she were a glass ornament rather than a four year old girl.

The choir of raindrops hitting the pavement of Seonghwa’s street resonates with your footsteps. He coughs awkwardly to break the silence.

“It was weird for you, right? I’m sorry” He mutters. Green cloth shoots into the sky and spreads its wings like a butterfly. He holds the strongly viridescent coloured umbrella above your heads, inching closer in order to share.

“What? No! Never! It’s totally fine! These things happen, Seonghwa. They shouldn’t, but they do. I just hope she’s okay”

A trace of anger seeps into his deep brown pupils. “I try to tell her. To re-teach here that she’s not responsible for her mother’s behaviour, but she doesn’t get it. She think Auntie loves her”

“Oh dear”

“Please... Don’t mention this to any-“

“No, no! I would never! But Seonghwa, you shouldn’t have the burden of unravelling Jihyo’s tangled threads. You’re tired already. You and Daehyun shouldn’t be the ones to do that”

Grief and pity washes upon him, and it trickles into his words like water from a slightly cracked glass bottle. “Dae shouldn’t, I agree. But if I don’t, who will?”

“Can’t you speak to your parents?”

“They’re stressed and busy-“

“They’re family, Seonghwa. Their occupation doesn’t hold a candle to their own family, let alone children” Your stern voice makes him sigh, and you hold the oak handle of the umbrella with him.

“Not all families are like that, Y/n... But I can’t say my family is one of them. But should I stress them out? They don’t know my Aunt is like this. At all.” His warm hands slightly overlap with yours as he re-adjusts his grip on his umbrella. You feel heat creeping up your cheeks, and out of the corner of your eye, you see Seonghwa turn away but not fast enough to cover his pink dusted cheeks.

“Don’t you think it would be better for Jihyo if a therapist helped her out?” You feel his breath causing a ripple of movement in your hair. The sun bleeds through the cracks left by the grey clouds, but they are barely enough to let the city bask in its glory.

“You’re right. I didn’t think about it that way. How idiotic am I?”

“You’re not” You stare him dead in the eye, the sincerity of your tone even taking you aback.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. We’re not supposed to know everything, you know? She’s only been here for a month, according to Daehyun, so it’s a lot to take in” Seonghwa’s pinky brushes against the back of palm, before positioning his hand over your own. He squeezes it.

“Thank you, Y/n. I think I really needed to hear that”

You two go back inside.

The choir of the rain is mixed with your footsteps and the thump of your heartbeat.

And as Seonghwa edges nearer to take his shoes off, you hear his own rapid thumps.

“Jihyo loves me so much, don’t you, cupcake?” Seonghwa cooes as she crawls onto Seonghwa lap.

“D-Dae” She squeals, pushing Seonghwa’s head down so she can crawl over his head to get to Daehyun, who is sitting behind him. He looks betrayed and flashes a painful smile at you.

“Nah, you’re just a stepping stone to him. Isn’t he, Jihyo?” Jihyo giggles and snuggles up to Daehyun, who puts her phone aside and taps her nose.

“She’s a baby” You coo, pinching her cheeks.

“Yeah, a baby. I love babies... But this one thinks I’m a stepping stone” Seonghwa pouts playfully.

“You both have a pouting tendency. Watch a bee doesn’t sting you on the lip” You tease and Seonghwa rolls his eyes.

“A bee would be honoured to die kissing my lips” He flips his hair in a nonchalant manner but then proceeds to cringe. “I’ve been hanging around San and Mingi for too long”

Daehyun gags. “Never flirt with your crush like that, they’ll get so shook they’ll migrate planets” Jihyo chuckles along with everyone. “Oh, the results of the election are coming out next month, no?”

“Yeah, I kind of don’t want to win though. Too much trouble” Seonghwa ruffles Jihyo’s hair.

“Y/n, why didn’t you run? You’re a model student, you could have won!”

Poor Seonghwa must be oblivious to the fangirls surrounding him and Hongjoong left and right. You wouldn’t stand a chance.

“Uhh, yeah no. Not my thing. I like receiving orders, not giving them. I’m not the leader type”

Seonghwa pulls a face, “Me neither. Hongjoong is though. Maybe if he stopped daydreaming once in a while, he’d realise that. Though if he doesn’t want to be a part of the Student Council, he can be leader of the Art club. The person currently running is leaving”

“Art club?” Hongjoong had never seemed like the artistic type to you. But then again, you didn’t go to the same classes as him except Maths.

“Yeah, Hongjoong is really good at art. He can do all these weird things with glass. He made that bird for me over there!” Seonghwa points to the display case beside the television, there sat a cerulean glass blue bird. It looks very well done, with the feathers etched in and the beak perfectly shaped.

“Don’t pull my leg, really?” It looked good enough to sell for quite a lot on a website. Hongjoong could start a business.

“Yes, really!” He laughs his signature laugh, airy and gentle, and you nearly burst. If you didn’t realise you liked Seonghwa, you sure did now. “Do you want anything to drink?”

“Oh, no. It’s alright!” You say, but a hiccup follows. Seonghwa chuckles and gets up.

“Water it is then” He waddles into the kitchen, with Jihyo clinging to his leg. “Anything you want, Angel?” He struggles to deal with her weight.

“C-cookies, Hwa” Seonghwa winces at the puppy eyes before him.

“Not now, angel. You need to have room for dinner” Jihyo grumbles but then points at a bunch of grapes.

“Wow! What species of toddler is she?” You joke as she hugs a plastic bowl filled with green grapes and goes up on her tiptoes to place it on the marble table. You’ve never met such a pliant kid before and it shocks you to the core.

“An angel, aren’t you, Jihyo?” The taller of the two picks her up so she can push it further into the centre of the table.

“Yay! Angel!” She giggles.

“Daehyun? Are you hungry?” Seonghwa turns to the blonde, she nods a simple no.

“Should we watch a movie?” Daehyun asks. “We got that DVD set last week, didn’t we?”

“Oh, yeah! Your call, Y/n” Seonghwa flashes a charming smile at you and you fumble for words.

“S-sure! Jihyo can choose” Jihyo giggles in delight and hops to the box set as Daehyun sets it out.

“Why is this so deep?” Seonghwa whines, trying to bat away the tears forming in his eyes. You feel your heart shattering even though he isn’t actually that affected by Piggy being killed by the rock.

“Oh no! Don’t cry, we’ll all start crying” You plead, fanning them away. You wonder why Jihyo chose something as morbid as “Lord of the Flies” but she seems rather content with the gore.

“I won’t cry. I’ll laugh” Daehyun nudges Seonghwa playfully and Seonghwa gets up to chase her.

“Brat!”

“Oh, boo hoo. Go cry about it”

The entire evening is spent giggling and joking. You think it’s been the best evening in your life.

“Ah, Y/n!”

It’s been a few weeks since Seonghwa hung out with you. Ever since then, you two have been talking to each other more often like during breaks and after school activities. Along with Hongjoong and Yunho, you two have been carrying out duties and solving problems together.

“No, I didn’t get three for question five” You sigh and turn around, to Seonghwa, who pokes you in the cheek with the back of his pen. “Oh, sorry! I didn’t think you said that”

“I’ve been asked that too. I got 37”

“Me too!” That gave you the reassurance that you got the question right.

“Anyway, I was wondering if you wanted to have some bubble tea out in the city for lunch? Just a little thank you for looking after Jihyo again this weekend” He goes a little pink but on his face is a flirty smirk you’ve never seen before. It makes you want to sink under the table and squeal.

“Sure, but I think I should thank you for intruding”

“No, I should thank you for helping me out again this week” You reply. The sunlight bursting through the window paints Seonghwa’s complexion, making him look even more devilishly handsome, his dark hair threaded with locks of gold.

“We’ll be here all day. Just say yes” He flicks at your forehead gently and you smack his shoulder. “Don’t skip PE, Y/n. Jihyo is stronger than you and she failed.”

“Fine. And do you want me to show you real strength, Park Seonghwa?” You both laugh, and the teacher gives you two a warning glare.

“No, I swear! Pigeons are FBI robots!” You exclaim, and Seonghwa sniggers.

“So you’re saying if I kill one pigeon’s friends and family it won’t die of depression?” Another shit eating grin forms on his face. It’s so hot you wonder why the ice in your drink hasn’t melted yet, let alone Antarctica thawing.

“You monster” You playfully pout. A few friends have told you you’ve been hanging out with him too much because you’ve picked up his habits.

Seonghwa bats his eyelashes, “Moi? I’m an angel”

“Sure...” Seonghwa’s eyes suddenly light up, pulsating with mischievous intent.

“Hongjoong managed to fall asleep in the changing room. Look, I took a picture” Seonghwa wheezes as he unlocks his phone and shows you a picture of the dark haired boy with his eyes fluttered shut and mouth slightly parted.

“Jesus, no one should be allowed to look that pretty while sleeping” You blurt out in awe. The boy in front of you scoffs.

“He was drooling, idiot. Anyhow, I’m way more charming than Hongjoong” Seonghwa tries to play it cool, raising his eyebrows and winking but you can sense the jealousy bubbling up within him.

“Jealous?” You snicker, taking a spoonful of the strawberry decorated cake. The sweetness melts in your mouth, along with the fruity tang of the strawberries.

“No!” He laughs, a little too loudly that the cafe barista looks at him, her pretty doe eyes widened in shock. The boy then clears his throat and proceeds to continue his conversation. “I’m not jealous- Oh, hold on” Seonghwa moves in a little closer to brush off the whipped cream on the corner of you lips. The rough pads of his fingers gliding across the skin of your lips. He smoothly licks it off of his fingers and you both go red after the realisation of what he did.

“Ah, thanks”

“No problem” He coughs awkwardly. You check the time and tell him that it’s probably a good idea that you two head back to classes. Seonghwa nods, and as you two walk down the road he gently pulls you in by the waist as a car goes by.

“Are you okay? Ugh, drivers” Seonghwa scoffs, and squeezes your waist and then releases you.

“Hwa!” You dare say that he’s getting bolder nowadays as both of you have realised your feelings for each other. But instead of blowing the candle out directly, you’re both gently waving at the flickering flame.

“Sorry” He giggles, and you know he doesn’t mean it. “Come to this side” He swaps places with you so that he is on the side of the road closer to cars zooming past.

“Thanks, Seonghwa”

“No problem. Oh goodness the election results are coming out in a few days and I really regret running for it now! I’m so nervous”

You squeeze his upper arm, “Relax. I’m sure you’ll do a great job even if you win. I’ll be here to help out and I’m sure Yunho and the others will be glad to as well” Seonghwa’s eyes return to their normal, bright and sparkly sheen.

“Really?” His voice holds the innocence of a four year old, despite his deep and elegant drawl.

“Really”

That night, you can feel Seonghwa’s restlessness from blocks away. The silence of the night drives you up the wall and you pull out your phone. Is it the election?

You: You awake?

You don’t expect an answer, you shouldn’t. But your face lights up at the sudden green bubble indicating that he’s online popping up immediately.

Hwa: No, I’m asleep ;p

You: Alright, well when you wake up remember that I’m cheering for you! <3

Hwa: shdufyyfipiueouriguu

You: ?

Hwa: Sorry my fongers were beingg dimb

Hwa: *Fingers

Hwa: *Being

Hwa: *Dumb

You: Lmao, go to sleep you nonce.

Hwa: Nonce? Meanie :(

You: I don’t trust people who use those weird keyboard emojis. Use your phone ones like a normal person lmao

Hwa: Hello, Childline? I would like to report a case of child abuse. This individual has called me a “nonce” and is now choosing to insult my emojis! Harry Potter and the Audacity of this Cutie

Hwa: JHsudhsdyduyfisuyfuyfuyfuyufisu

You: Aww, thanks 😊

Your heart accelerates. Of course, after you and Seonghwa started hanging out more, he was more flirty and bold but you’ve never seen him become flustered before. He’s called you a baby and addresses you very endearingly. But is this sleep deprived Seonghwa embarrassed? It’s adorably funny to you.

Hwa: soodjjSOFFOJJFIJNFJJFI

Hwa: Damn it.

Hwa: I’m way too sleep deprived to play it cool

You: Should I send you an ASMR video? It helps me sleep sometimes

Hwa: Really? That would be great

Hwa: Excuse me, wait a second. Why are you awake?

You: Insomnia, ran out of pills.

Hwa: Poor thing :(

Hwa: Do you have a 24 hour pharmacy near you? I’m sure there’s one down the road and we don’t live far apart.

You: DKM STOP USING THOSE CURSED EMOJIS

You: And idk, it’s dangerous for me to walk at night. Even with my hockey stick lolol

Hwa: Where do you live? I’m coming

You: Seonghwa! No! It’s alright! I can stay awake

Hwa: Then I’ll stay awake with you <3

You: You don’t need to.

Hwa: I would have forced you to sleep, but Joong has insomnia and I kinda get that it’s hard

Hwa: So if you can’t sleep, ping me~

You: “Ping me” lmao

You: Thank you though.

You: You do so much for me. You know that? Like, whenever I feel like shit, you’re there.

You: Do you read my mind, Seonghwa?

Hwa: I’m glad I’m able to be here for you. At first I felt like I was had to so I could pay you back. But now it comes naturally. I don’t really click with people, but I can with you.

Hwa: Don’t get me wrong, I’m only here because I want to be. I like taking care of you and I’m thankful you do the same.

Hwa: Just seeing you makes me happy

You: I feel the exact same way, Hwa.

You: You make everything so warm and happy. It’s your presence and I get along with you so well!

You: I know you said it already, but please don’t feel indebted to take care of me, Seonghwa. I too, do it because I sincerely care about you.

You: I love yo|

Your fingers dash across the screen, but another sky blue text bubble makes your heart drop, the adrenaline building up in you blowing out in a sad puff.

Hwa: I’m sorry, I’ll be right back. Getting a call.

“Seonghwa... I don’t want to do this anymore” The latter’s stomach and heart hurl up and down at the chocked voice, probably crying through the phone.

“Hongjoong? Talk to me” Seonghwa tries to keep his voice steady and attempts to clear his mind and analyse the rise and fall of his voice and the tone. He wants to see Hongjoong face to face. That’s the best way he can read people, with their expressions. But he knows that Hongjoong doesn’t dare show his face while he’s crying, a rarity.

“The... The election... It was my parents who made me do it. Seonghwa... Seonghwa I can’t do this anymore” Hongjoong sobs, his clear voice murky with sleep and sadness. Seonghwa feels his own eyes fill up but he swipes them away.

“Focus on Hongjoong” He hisses to himself mentally.

“Hongjoong, your parents can’t dictate what you do or not. If you feel pressured and they don’t listen, you have to do something”

“I know! But what? Who’s going to help me? What if I get kicked out? My parents might still love me if I rebel, but I don’t want to take that gamble. Seonghwa... What do I do?”

Seonghwa bites his nail. For once, Seonghwa doesn’t know what to do. It makes him feel helpless that someone is hurting, especially if that someone is a friend. Hongjoong isn’t the type of person to be very in touch with his emotions, and seeing his glass mask shatter breaks him apart too.

“Hongjoong, you do what you think is right. And if you don’t know what is, then ask someone who knows. I’m sorry, Hongjoong, but I don’t know what to do. But you can always talk to me. I’ll always be here for you, Hongjoong”

“Really?”

“Yeah. If they kick you out, I’ll find you a place to stay”

Seonghwa hears Hongjoong crumpling down, “I don’t want to be abandoned” It feels like a spear through the chest hearing his torn voice.

“I know, sweetheart. No one does. But if you feel like that’s what you have to do, you have to remember that there are people who will always accept you. I will, Yunho will, Y/n will, Wooyoung will. Forever”

“But they’re my parents. They’re supposed to be here for me!”

“Joong...”

“Can’t I ever please them?”

“I’m sorry, Hongjoong, I don’t think I can answer that” Seonghwa whimpers quietly, trying to reply tactfully.

“Seonghwa, I need to go. I hear footsteps-“

“Hongjoong!” Seonghwa groans as the jingle of the phone cut sound effect goes off. Blinking back his tears, he opens the chatroom you two share, now blurred lines of black and white and blue bubbles.

Hwa: Sorry.

You: It’s okay.

Something feels off in the discreet way that he types. Seonghwa is quiet but he’s not a man of few words when opened up to.

You: Are you okay?

Hwa: Yeah.

Hwa: Why?

You: Are you sure? Instinct.

Hwa: Lol that’s sharp

You: Do you want to talk about it?

Hwa: There’s nothing wrong, dove. I’m just tired.

You: Try get a glass of warm milk.

You: You can talk to me if you feel crappy, okay? Whenever you need it.

Hwa: Thank you, Y/n. But I think that I can only take you up on that offer when it’s my issue to talk about, I don’t think I can tell you this time.

Hwa: We started giving Jihyo therapy, by the way.

Hwa: So thank you, for everything you’ve done.

You: Alright, I understand. But if you need help with anything, you don’t have to tell me who it is, but maybe I can help.

Hwa: Thanks, but I’ll try to figure this one out on my own <3

Hwa: Hey, I think I should try and sleep.

Hwa: Goodnight, cutie

You: Goodnight, Hwa

“Congratulations, Hongjoong! You won!!!” Yunho claps the smaller man on the back, who then flinches. Seonghwa looks concerned and pulls Hongjoong into his chest for a brief moment, quickly enough to allow a window of time to brush tears away.

“Thanks, guys!” He giggles, and a dazzling smile blinds everyone in the room. “I’ll do my best to impress all of you, so don’t abandon me!” He laughs at his little joke and so does everyone else. But Seonghwa is not laughing.

“Tough luck, Hwa! It was so close!” You pat his shoulder, and he grins at you.

“I’m free from burden, what’s this about?” He chuckles, his baritone voice a sweet melody. The sunlight is dim and the shades of the afternoon haze are bright and pastel blues.

“Really?” The smile on his lips seems forced, not reaching his eyes as per usual. Heat from the atmosphere scorches you and the rising tension in the room doesn’t cool it down either.

“Yeah”

You leave it at that.

As you’re about to ask him if Jihyo needs babysitting, Hongjoong clasps onto the dark haired boy’s sleeve. “Can we talk?” You hear the short man’s voice and how it dangerously wobbles.

“Sure” Seonghwa turns away and you don’t fail to notice the comforting hand around Hongjoong’s shoulder.

“Hwa?” You’re surprised by two hands suddenly picking you up and lifting you to the air, an uncharacteristic squeal emerging from a pair of cherry red lips. “Are you okay?” You giggle, warm at the small laughs from the other.

“Yeah! More than okay!” Seonghwa sighs and puts you down. “Sorry, I got too excited. It’s just that... I’m happy for a friend” Seonghwa would normally blush and lifting you up and perhaps even apologise for doing so but there’s something occupying his brain that makes him steer away from even you.

“That’s great! I’m so proud of Hongjoong” You smile sweetly, the golden-orange hues of sunlight framing your face, Seonghwa looks a little taken aback.

“You- you knew?”

“I knew who it was, not what was going on” You correct him and Seonghwa looks admiringly at you.

“Are you psychic? You know everything about other people...” The gleaming stars in his eyes become more dim and melt into the sea of his eyes like cubes of sugar.

“Well... I’m observant?”

Seonghwa nods. Like him, you’re in a world of your own but so alive and free in the real world too. It’s too beautiful too block out, so you walk along the fine line of the little flower filled bubble with Seonghwa and the world of the classrooms with the scent of vanilla and sunshine.

“Hmm, Y/n...”

“Yeah?”

“Are you free this Saturday?” He hums, fiddling with a lock of black silky hair that keeps falling in his face.

“Yeah...” You reach up and pin back his hair with a pretty hairpin, decorated with a tiny plastic moonflower. The way Seonghwa’s cheeks become pink remind you of the purple hue of potassium permanganate bleeding into the water in the biology demonstration the teacher showed you.

With Seonghwa.

You realise you do a lot of things with Seonghwa.

You ate with him many many times (With Hongjoong and Yunho tagging along at times. You went to concert with Daehyun, Jihyo and him last month. The tickets decorate your wall, covered in doodles of little flowers. You helped him with his speeches for his election, often staying after school to fan him off and correct his grammar as his mental health spiralled downwards.

It makes you feel all warm and butterflies gather, spreading their wings and flying about your body in a flurry of heartfelt affection. You look at him again, his eyes no longer tainted with dark circles and replaced with a rosy blush.

You can’t beat around the bush anymore, or else it will grow into a forest. A forest where Seonghwa may no longer roam in.

“It’s going to be Saturday” You tell yourself as you thread baby blue ribbons into your hair, matching the light blue frock and pale yellowish white oversized cardigan. Blue butterflies adorn your ears as they hang down on silver earrings.

“It’s going to be today”

You’re surprised you haven’t passed away yet from the sheer beauty of Park Seonghwa. His blue silk blue blouse hangs down to reveal a little bit of his slightly bronze chest and you want to target the mole on it with a kiss attack. He gasps softly and pings your hanging earring. “We’re matching”

The silk of his shirt and the blue of your dress are very similar in hue, and you make a sound of realisation. “Woah we are” Seonghwa chuckles and taps your nose.

“On Saturdays, we wear blue” And he yelps as you gently smack him on the shoulder.

“Don’t clown Gretchen like that, she’s my baby” You nag him as you practically inhale the piece of cake no longer on your plate. You tried to by dainty at first but you thought of future dates and thought it would be alright if you loosened up before tightening them.

Seonghwa chuckles shyly. “I really like this cafe, you know. It’s pretty” His eyes wander the cafe, scanning the blue walls and little artificial moonflowers in baskets.

“Yeah! And the cake is amazing. Doesn’t Yunho work here?” You laugh.

“Mhmm, he loves the aesthetic of it too. It’s partially why he wears so many of those clips” His lips suddenly part into an “o” shape. “Oh! I forgot to give you the clip!” Seonghwa pulls out the pretty moonflower hairpin, looking even smaller in his large hand. As you’re about to reach out for it he swipes it out of your reach, a little grin playing on his face. “Hold still, Y/n” And you feel his fingers swipe through your hair along with the metal of the clip. “You look better in it than I do. Daehyun bullied me about it all night” He pulls a face and you chuckle.

As you two walk out of the cafe and into the park behind it, you see the hues of sunset bleeding into the horizon. You sift through your phone as you wait for Seonghwa to come back from the bathroom.

“Boo!”

“SWEET JESUS” You yelp and you’re about to smack him in the chest but you see the pink wrapping of the florist beside the cafe. He gently places them in your hands. White moonflowers pop out and the calming husky scent makes you sigh.

“Hehe, scared you” He ruffles your hair and you look into his eyes. You expect the mischievous glint in his eyes but they are replaced with a warm loving stare. The light of the sun flickers in his eyes and the breeze kisses your skin.

“Hwa?”

“Y/n, hear me out” He goes a little pink, playing with a strand of his hair.

“I really like you. A lot. I mean, I love you. It’s- I don’t know why. It’s not because you’re just so beautiful and adorable- which you are! I’m not denying it! But you’re so... Thoughtful and sincere. And I was thinking that maybe you could be my girlfriend?” His voice is deeper but laced with awkward tension. You look at his face, growing redder at the second and you smile.

“Me too”

“Pardon?!”

“I love you too”

“R-really? You’re not just saying that-“ Seonghwa excitedly grasps your hands in his.

“Yes, really. Hwa, I really respect how you’re so caring and kind. With Jihyo, Daehyun and Hongjoong. You’re the sweetest person I’ve ever met”

Seonghwa’s eyes shine, perhaps with happy tears or the light of shimmering sky.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yep”

Seonghwa tries to lean in and pinches your cheeks, “Pucker up”

“I can’t stop smiling”

The dark haired boy doubles down with laughter before squishing your cheeks, “Better?”

“Better” You say, but it comes out muffled.

His lips gently brush against yours, his hand doesn’t leave your face and you gently lace your fingers through his dark locks and he sighs into the kiss, leaning further into you and supporting your figure against the wall behind you.

“You know why I gave you moonflowers?”

“Why?”

“The clip, it was really pretty” He taps it, re-adjusting it and planting a kiss on your forehead. “But moonflowers are my favourite too, so I thought they would look prettier with you holding them” He giggles a little bit at the cheesy words. “I love you”

“I love you too, Seonghwa” You capture his lips in another kiss.

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez fluff #ateez san #ateez smut #ateez yunho #jeong yunho #ateez seonghwa #seonghwa imagines #park seonghwa #seonghwa

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reeesea · 4 years

Text

Something Sweet: Part Three

~sweet beginnings~

one ~ two ~ three ~ four ~ five ~ six ~ seven ~ eight ~ nine

pairing: minsung, jisung/minho

warning: mild language

words: 2.5k ish

summary: sweet beginnings and small apartments, also Seungmin baby shows up

a/n: Im honestly just proud of myself for posting a third chapter woo!! lemme know if you read and enjoyed <3

also the spacing got wack trying to do the text convos, so hope the bold and non bold isn't too gross to look at. Minho and Jisung

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Minho wakes up to the sun streaming in through the thinly veiled curtains over his window. Thankfully he woke up to a minimal headache in spite of having gone out to the bar and an impromptu concert the night before. Rolling over in his small twin sized bed he reached for his phone to check the time and any potentially important notifications.

9:26 am

[ 2 new messages from Rich Boy Han Jisung ]

Minho finds himself smiling at the new messages from the boy that had stumbled upon him last night.

2:25 am

Youre right I do hear it all the time

but it sounds pretty sweet coming from you ;}

I'll tell J.One you thought he was amazing

9:28 am

Careful Han, your cockiness is showing

Jisungs’s cocky demeanor does nothing but make him more endearing to the older, but something gave Minho the impression that the boy already knew this. Not expecting a reply from the other this early in the morning, Minho stretched out of bed and made his way out of his small bedroom and quietly to the shared bathroom. Not a small feat in the old apartment shared by him and his roommates. Creaky floorboards, squeaky doors, and over all close proximity to each other makes being quietly courteous in the morning a frequent challenge for the boys.

The living room at the end of the small hallway was turned into a shared bedroom for Minho's two roommates. Felix’s mattress had gotten a bed frame from some trading website a few months back when he moved in. The makeshift wall of hung shower curtains and a fold out screen gave the boys the illusion of privacy between their respective sides of the room. Even though more times than not, Minho has come home to find the lanky brunette curled up in Felix's bed instead of on his designated couch.

Climbing over the piles of the boys’ clothes, Minho makes it to the bathroom without disturbing the other two. The two were still passed out from working their night shifts, draped over each other on the freckled boy’s bed. Neither showed signs of awakening any time in the morning hours. Minho showered quickly and changed in order to make his way out of the apartment and on his way to the studio to practice his Saturday away

Minho would have thought that the both of them would have remained in their university dorms for the summer, if they weren’t able to find apartments on their own. But, at some point after he had graduated, he had gained himself plus two of his underclassmen as roommates. He really couldn't complain though, it all made sense as all three of them were a part of the same dance studio, barely a block away, and all had reasons to be saving money. Paying a fraction of rent really helped with all that had to be saved in order to pay for school, studio fees, living, breathing, and most importantly audition fees.

As the summer had set in, so had the wave of audition opportunities for companies and crews. Felix had mentioned needing to prepare a video audition last week for a few entertainment companies in the area. Hyunjin was busy trying to save up his money to pay for the upcoming semesters at school to graduate like Minho had.

Entering the practice room and being welcomed by the distinctive scent of a dance studio was enough to bring Minho back to reality. Since graduating, he had been stuck in his thoughts about what to do with his future a lot. His childhood dreams of getting into the prestigious Yellow Wood Dance Academy seemed to slip farther away from him with every passing year. His audition tapes each year during university were almost always sent back, along with a ‘We are sorry to inform you…’

It’s not like Minho couldn't keep applying, but with every year the rejection stung a little bit more, and he wasn't sure if he would be able to take another blow. No matter how confident Minho acted about his looks, when it came to dancing his ego was glass fragile. His passion for dance sometimes felt like the only thing that kept him standing, but it had been a while since he had felt rewarded for his dedication. Even when his practically broken dream haunted him a little too much, focusing back to his craft really gave him a better grasp on reality. Making his way to the front of the room to plug in his phone to pick music, a new notification popped up.

[Rich Boy Han Jisung]

10:03am

dw dw its all fake i assure you, all just a ploy to get you to like me

What you up to on this fineee saturday mornin??

Hmmm wouldnt you like to know

i only tell boys i like so...

Minho smiled in spite of himself. Even over text the sparkly eyed boy was able to pull out and dust off his genuine smile. It had definitely been a while since Minho had found himself freely smiling, but here comes Han Jisung crash landing into his life, running amuck. After spending a moment debating whether or not just to tell the younger of his activities anyway, he came to the conclusion that mentioning dance would only result in more questions, and Minho really wasn't feeling like spilling his passions and dreams with the other already.

Haha i am only even more motivated now >:D

Dont strain yourself too much with that,

im just enjoying my saturday before my shift later.

Queuing up some music Minho migrated to the middle of the room to casually freestyle and warm up for the day. Allowing the music to flood his ears, movements to take over his limbs, and only his feet to remind him of where he was, Minho’s mind went blank as he began to relax and give up control of his body to the steady beats of the song.

---

By the time Minho wrapped up his practice and was heading home the sun was already starting to settle on the lower half of the sky. Surprisingly the day had passed him by quickly. Spending the whole day grinding out a routine he had been recently working to perfect was not usually an overall fun time, but Minho found that he was able to keep his practice productive and enjoyable.

His smile throughout the day certainly had nothing to do with his breaks to text to Jisung. The casual banter between them felt natural, and the light conversation made him feel lighter on his feet as he moved across the floor. Even with the flirty nature of their introduction, their conversation never steered far from how anyone would expect two close friends to interact. Minho found himself smiling more throughout the day as he checked Jisung’s messages throughout the morning and afternoon.

12:25 pm

Also for the record my capacity to flirt is honestly quite unimpressive

I hope you aren’t talking to me for my stage charisma and charm

To sweep you off you feet, i may be a disappointment

Usually i'm just awkward, cant flirt, doesnt leave the house, Jisung

You almost tripped over your feet walking into the bar last night

Dw im not sure id want you to sweep me off my feet with that balance

You wound me ;--;

By talking to Jisung, he had somehow managed to satisfy all of Minho’s previous curiosities while sparking new ones. Even with Minho generally avoiding giving away his own personal interests and dreams, Jisung didn't hold those same reservations and filled their conversation with “fun facts” and lively stories. Jisung’s lively play by play of the bickering taking place between his group mates, now officially introduced as Chan and Changbin, had Minho giggling on the floor of the practice room. The way Jisung described everything brought it to life in ways that he hadn’t expected from a casual text conversation. The boy was definitely a great storyteller even just over type, and Minho found himself wondering if he would get to hear his endless stories in person.

---

[Rich Boy Han Jisung]

3:36 pm

Youre one interesting man Lee Minho

Han, you know almost nothing about me

On the contrary I feel like I know a good amount

Youre name is Lee Minho

You work at the fancy restaurant Menu 98

You used to work at the bar we were at last night

You have a really beautiful smile

…

Are you quite done

Definitely not but if i start going off about how stunning your eyes are

you might block me

Which would be a shame please dont

What happened to awkward Jisung who cant flirt huh?

Minho returned to the small apartment to find Felix attempting to cook some ramen in the microscopic kitchen and Hyunjin sprawled across the couch watching some variety show. Felix was probably fueling up in order to spend the night gaming the weekend away before his work overtook his weekdays again. Hyunjin barely looked to be conscious but still managed to wave a greeting to Minho as he walked into the room.

“How’d practice go?”

“Pretty well. Finally was able to clean up that middle section I’ve been messing up.” Minho hurried into the other room to shower once again before heading to the restaurant for his evening shift.

“Oh glad to hear it.” Felix’s voice filtered in from his place by the stove that was shoved in a corner of the room, along with a fridge and a sink that barely classified it as a kitchen unit. None of the three were complaining, the stove heated up their ramen water and the fridge kept their milk cold, what more could they ask for?

“WAIT, did you talk to that guy at the bar last night???” Hyunjin’s loud voice carried from the couch through their thin walls allowing Minho to clearly hear even if his bedroom door was closed.

“Which one, Jinnie?? You gotta be more clear than that.” Minho had actually stacked up a few numbers from his night and received atleast ten free drinks from other patrons. Not too bad for the first night out, but of course the only phone number he had bothered messaging happened to be the one he had been texting all day.

“You know the one, the rapper one you left to go see perform.” Minho of course knew, but he wasn't gonna admit it to his roommate so easily, and just hummed in response eliciting a groan from the younger.

“If you haven’t, you so should. 3racha is all everyone from the bar is talking about. Their concert must have been a big deal or something.”

“WHAT, 3RACHA? You have got to be fucking kidding me.” Felix, apparently a fan, shuffles in with his ramen in hand to accompany the loud outburst.

“Hyung! One of them gave you their number?? They’re literally like the next big thing in the music scene. Which one of them was it?”

J.One, Han Jisung, the cute pink hoodie guy

“His name is Jisung I’m pretty sure.” Minho was very sure. “I didnt know they were such a big deal”

“J.One gave you his number? Damn hyung, you don't even know. They’ve been performing locally for years but their fan base has grown a ton in the last year. There’s rumors that they've signed with a company and are going to come out with something soon.” Felix continued spouting off information on the group to them, as Minho continued his routine of preparing for work at Menu 98.

---

[Rich Boy Han Jisung]

4:35 pm

Looks like my roommate is a fan of you guys

We’re not talking the tall beautiful bartender from last night right

No that was Hyunjin, Felix is the fan

beautiful?

Ah atleast ill be on the good side of one of ur roomies

Yeah tall boy was pretty, but something about him made me think he didnt like me

I think it was his face, and his height

Most tall pretty boys dont take too well to a squirrel boy being in their territory ya know.

Whats not to like about a cute squirrel boy

Im sure he likes you and youre over thinking

If his two roommates like you, he’ll have to like you by association

Did Lee Minho just admit to liking me

Wow the development, less than 24 hours

We love to see it

Your ridiculous

I said nothing of the sort

Sure sure hyung

Gtg now, dinner shifts starting

Have fun at work!!!!

(wait can i call you hyung???)

Minho left him on read as he walked into the restaurant, already bustling with waiters and the changing of shifts for the dinner crowd. ‘Less than 24 hours’ and Minho was already admitting indirectly that he liked the boy he had only just properly met the night before. Stranger things have happened he supposed. Minho continued to surprise himself with this one though. He was not one to seek out friendships or relationships. Anything more than the very occasional one night stand, was practically void from Minho’s social life. Other than the people he had met through dance and his roommates, there were very few others that Minho had chosen to form any kind of relationship with. Even his co-workers were mostly just faces and names he had to remember in order to do his job well.

Well, expect Seungmin.

“You look awfully happy today, who spiked your coffee this morning?” Seungmin had been a newly inserted character in Minho’s life but they became fast friends after a few too many late night shifts without proper caffeination.

Seungmin had been a newly hired host at Menu 98, just the average polite university student with enough experience to get hired. When Minho met him they exchanged the basic pleasantries and thought that would be the end of that, until one fated closing shift. A certain, tipsy, entitled, rich, high class asshole of a customer had held up Minho’s section for much of the night. Minho found himself being bossed around and verbally berated throughout the night, trying to serve the women who appeared to never be satisfied with the food or service Minho was offering. By the end of the night, she was their last customer and Minho saw her to the front to pay. His customer service smile, strained and barely holding up, and the woman’s complaints, even while paying, had him wanting to drop all his pleasantries and curse her out as she waltzed out the door.

“What an absolute fucking pain in the ass of a woman”

Minho hadn’t thought he had said his thoughts aloud, but looked up to catch Seungmin, who had let the words come out in hushed tones as he held a sickening polite smile on his face. After that point the two had bonded over various pain in the ass customers and a mutual love for sarcastic backhanded insults. Minho's relationship with Seungmin was probably the closest thing to a friendship that the older had experienced in a while.

“No spiked coffee, sadly”

“Well something’s making your usual sad bitch face smile, so it's gotta be good. Hmm...Meet someone?” Seungmin’s signature puppy eyes were on full display, but not without the signature mischievous glint they always held.

“Well wouldn't you like to know Seungmo~ but me and my usually flawlessly beautiful face got to go charm our way into some extra tips.” Minho gave the boy a gentle pat on his head, that was met with a stubborn pout forming at the younger’s lips.

“You definitely met someone, you usually don't have this much self-confidence so early into the evening.” Minho did nothing but giggle at his comment and made his way to the back room to begin his shift.

------

one ~ two ~ three ~ four ~ five ~ six ~ seven ~ eight ~ nine

#stray kids fic #stray kids #skz #skz fic #minsung #lee minho #han jisung #stray kids han #lee know #jisung #idk what to tag anymore

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crapitskizaru · 5 years

Text

Still Alive. (Revenant!‌Trafalgar Law x Reader)

Warning: proof that undead law could still be hot lmao

Word Count: 1,4k

The untold numbers of ghosts, vampires, and zombies casually passing by slowly start to feel overwhelming, but you keep your cool nonetheless; your alcoholic drink lost somewhere among the tables, untouched.

As your gaze dozes off, you start to wonder. How would life be if those weren’t costumes?‌‌‌ If the world was indeed filled with the supernatural and the unearthly, as most of us dream about. If there was something more to the blunt reality we know and are forced to live in.

Naturally, if any of your theories were true, you wouldn’t be standing among the monsters as calmly as you are now. Their teeth, fangs, claws, and hands would be trying to reach you, devour you, kill you. So maybe things aren’t as bad as it may seem in that blunt reality of yours.

You flinch, taken by surprise, as Ace bares his fangs at you. “Those are killing my gums!‌‌”‌ he mewls, mouth opening wide to specifically show you what he’s talking about. “See?‌‌ Are they bleeding already?”‌

“You don’t have to wear them,”‌ you sigh as he leans against the counter beside you. “It’s quite obvious you’re a vampire.”‌

The frills on Ace’s seemingly old-time suit keep on shuffling with each of his enthusiastic movements, a huge jewel on his chest and a top hat being ruffled between his quick fingers - all of the masquerade crowned by dried-up blood smeared on the boy’s face and neck.

He gasps dramatically. “What kind of vampire doesn’t have fangs?‌ I’d rather bleed out than take those off.”‌

“Then suffer.”‌‌ You cut him short and reach for the orange juice he was sipping on. “It’s not like anyone cares about costumes anymore.”

The moaning mass of your friends sprawled on the floor in the living room only confirming your words, the pungent smell of vodka lingering in the air and irritating your nose. The party seems to be coming to an unpleasant end.

“What do you mean?‌‌ They’ll sober up soon,”‌ Ace smirks. “I still have scary video games, horror movies queued on Netflix, eyeballs for the eyeball race, pumpkins and knives, toilet paper-”‌

“Toilet paper?”

“For mummy-making.”‌ He seems surprised that you needed an explanation. “And a whole bunch of balloons to pop.”‌

Before your brain can comprehend this huge amount of confusing information, you decide it’d be far better to catch a quick breath outside - away from the alcoholic stench.

Throwing Ace a short excuse, you storm off into the chilly air of the night, able to take a deep, clean inhale. There is a feeling of excitement as your lungs are filled with the distant smell of rain and damp forest that grows near Ace’s house. The night of Halloween is always the pleasant one in your memories.

The closer you get to the edge of the woods, the more they seem to draw you in, replacing the dizzy state in your mind with calmness.

And yet, something is not right. Something lingers at the back of your head, in the corner of your eye, at the bottom of your stomach, but you cannot place just what it is.

At least until you spot a figure standing not that far away, leaning against a tree. Without seeing their face, you know their eyes are on you.

“Hey?‌”‌ you start, walking closer. “Not a fan of parties?”‌

Ace has a ton of friends, but this one you can’t make out. And you are sure you would have remembered meeting him before - with the tall figure, dark hair and sharp gaze, he’s not the type to be forgotten easily.

“Too loud,”‌ he says without moving his eyes from you. “Too many people.”‌

The moon is not your ally tonight; without its light, you find it difficult to check out the stranger further and possibly nag Ace with questions about him later.

For one thing, the lighting is not needed. The pale shade of his skin strikes your eyes, dividing his figure from the black extent of the forest behind his back. So pale it resembles more a moribund patient just as death is about to take them than a normal teenager.

“Cold.”‌ You shudder in the frigid air. He’s not showing any signs of the cool bothering him, however, despite wearing only a button-up shirt. “How are you not freezing your ass out here?”‌

He sends you a sad smile. “I’m just used to it.”‌

That was it - no more words, no follow-up questions, no interest. You start to think you’d prefer Ace’s company over this guy’s, even if the goon is probably laying in his own vomit at this point.

“Well then, good for you. I‌ guess I’ll go ba-”

“No,”‌ he says sharply, taking a step forward. “No, please. Stay.”‌

There is a harsh tone in his voice, one that doesn’t leave any space for negotiations. With a hint of hunger?‌ You disregard the thought immediately. How can someone sound hungry?

“Uh, okay. Are you alright?”‌

“Yes…Yes. Just…this particular night always gets me.”‌

“Oh, it’s amazing.”‌ You breathe in the cold air.‌ “Out of this world.”

Your words seem to amuse him as he drags his hand along the spruce trunk slowly. Only after a few seconds, you notice he did it to cover the fact that he’s gotten even closer.

“Some believe the night of Halloween is the most dangerous one in the year,”‌ he starts, fixing his gaze on you, taking in your whole frame. “And what do you think?”‌

“What is there to be scared of?‌ What’s the danger?”‌ you ask. “Pumpkins? Plastic decorations?”

He chuckles. “I suppose you’re not one to be scared of monsters under your bed.”‌

“There’s no proof they exist.”

“What if there was one?”

You start to think his sad smile feels unnatural. But, now that he’s definitely closer than before, you can see the smoothness of his skin, the darkness of his irises and the irresistible aura around him, one that tells you to take a step forward.

“I’d want to see it,”‌ you whisper, furrowing your eyebrows while admiring the man. He’s still hidden in the shadow of the woods, his expression curious and fixed on you.

“So…close,” he mutters, reaching up with his hand as if to cup your cheek. But then his eyes flutter, you can see him retreating into the dark. “Ah. My apologies.”‌

You are about to ask just what he was apologizing for, but instead, your thoughts focus on the way the corners of his mouth lift up again, how soft his lips look. You want to know how they would feel on yours.

“I just wanted to feel you.”‌ His voice turns almost inaudible, spoken in a hushed tone, but you don’t blame him.

Shooting your surroundings a quick glance, there’s no one in sight, the party noises somewhat muffled when coming from the direction of the house, as if you are hearing them through thick glass.

And so you are not worried about a thing when your legs push you forward towards the darkness and onto the stranger, your mouth catching his in a shallow manner. It’s not supposed to be passionate or emotional - much rather it is curious, discovering, full of interest.

Instead of surprised, he seems overwhelmed, but he doesn’t break away; you indulge into the sensation, open up your senses to the softness of the affection, the close proximity of another person, the blood rushing in your ears.

“Tell me how it feels then,”‌ you mumble into the kiss and, without waiting for a reply, dive right back into him.

But then you feel his movements turn greedy, hungry, as he reaches forward to claim your lips deeper. Your hands find themselves traveling up his arms and slipping into his hair, noses brushing against each other, tongues touching.

You are not aware of anything other than the way he feels; that is, until his chest presses up to yours and you lose your balance, forced to take a step back and through the border of the forest, straight into the moonlight that seeps through the clouds.

His whole body tenses under your touch and you use it as an opportunity to pull back and catch a quick breath - an action you immediately regret, your gasp ends up muffled by your palm.

It’s like he had been replaced during those few seconds when you kissed. The skin you trailed with your fingers now covered in blisters, its shade turned sickly and ill, the eyes you stared so deeply into bleary and fogged over, the lips you caressed dried up.

This time there’s no question to the way he looks at you - hungry, ravenous, starved.

The moonlight reflects in his white eyes. “Makes me wish I was still alive.”‌

#trafalgar law x reader #one piece #xoxobb #op scenario #one piece scenario #trafalgar law #op imagine #op imagines #one piece imagine #one piece imagines #halloween

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tetrakys · 4 years

Note

idk if someone send you that request but it obviously matches Armin: 43, 42 & 52

42. “Just let me finish this/this level and I swear I’ll go down on you until you cum at least three times.” & 43. “If I have to stop what I’m doing, you won’t be able to walk for the next week.” & 52. “I’m not jealous! It’s just…you’re mine!”

I’m sorry honey this took me only what… four/five months? 😅 hope it was worth the wait.

I needed something quick and dirty with UL Armin and I remembered this prompt request. I know there’s probably only 3 people here who may be interested in this, so @itsmymindspeaking and @fuckyalllifes this is for us 😂

I chugged my drink in one go, a little dizziness coming to my head. I had spent good part of the night drinking and I was feeling just a little tipsy. It wasn’t like I was bored, I was out with my friends after all, but I wasn’t having the time of my life either.

I looked at Alexy and Morgan kissing passionately without a care in the world, and then at Rosa and Leigh, looking at each other with a complicity that anyone would’ve envied.

Then I looked at the empty seat right next to me.

“Is everything all right, Candy?” Rosa asked, sensing my discomfort. “It’s about Armin, isn’t it? Where is he, anyway? It feels like I haven’t seen him in ages.”

“Where do you think?” I replied without managing to hide the annoyance from my voice. “In his dorm room of course. He’s been holed up in there since the beginning of spring break.”

“Wait… he’s not… no it can’t be… is he spending the holidays playing video games 24/7?”

“Of course he is!” Alexy replied before I’d time to say anything. He must’ve caught our conversation between one kiss and the next. “Yesterday morning I left him sitting in front of the tv playing that stupid co-op game he likes so much, and that’s exactly where I found him this evening before we came here. I’m not even surprised, I gave up on him years ago.” He turned back in his seat, looking at Morgan adoringly. “Luckily, I don’t have to suffer through the night because of his constant jabbering with his geek friends, I’ve found a more comfortable accommodation. If I’m kept up all night is for completely different and more pleasurable reasons.”

After those words he started kissing Morgan again, abandoning the rest of the conversation.

“Well,” Rosa went on, “this isn’t right. You can’t let him take you for granted, Candy. Do something!”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know… try to make him jealous.”

“Ha! You know that won’t work. He’s the least possessive person on the face of the Earth.” I replied a little defeated.

“Then remind him what he’s missing out on by spending the whole time in front of a screen instead of his girlfriend!”

“Meaning? You know that I won’t be able to tempt him with a date. The times we go out, he does it just to please me, if it were for him we would spend the whole day in his room playing games. And don’t get me wrong, I love playing with him, it’s just that sometimes I need more, like…” I hesitated, “I don’t know, I feel like a spoiled child just saying this but… sometimes I just want his undivided attention.”

“Then take it!”

“How?”

She looked at me like I was stupid.

“You’re a woman, it’s not that hard to figure out. Do I need to check your underwear like in high school?”

“There’s no need. But… are you suggesting using my body to beg him for attention? Isn’t it a little too desperate?” I asked biting my lip nervously.

“Aren’t you? Desperate?” she replied ironically. “Look, it’s not that big of deal, really. Even I… you know how Leigh can get sometimes,” she looked at him queuing at the bar to get us a refill. “He’s so passionate about his work. Sometimes I need to remind him to take a break,” she laughed.

“Mmm…” I replied evasively. Her words weren’t completely unreasonable. I was a strong, modern woman, if I wanted something, I just had to take it. I’m a woman hear me roar and all that…

Maybe… maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

—

“Be careful… On your right! No! Fuck! It’s a grenade!”

I was leaning against the doorframe as I stared at my boyfriend, willing him to take notice of me. He was sitting down on the floor, back against the bed, wearing only his boxer shorts and a t-shirt. Controller in his hands, his eyes fixed on the big screen in front of him. I could hear the muffled voices of his teammates coming from the headphones he was wearing.

I’d let myself in thanks to my spare keys ten minutes ago, and since then I’d been waiting for him to strike a conversation with me. A distracted “Hi babe,” was everything that I’d gotten so far.

I thought again about Rosa’s suggestion. Was I really going to do this? Yes, yes I was. It was time to send the message through.

I started from my shoes, removing one at the time, then it was my t-shirt’s turn. I thought it was going to take longer for him to take notice of what was going on, but he must’ve caught the garment dropping to the floor with the corner of his eye, because he sent me a quick glance, surprised, and asked, “what are you doing, babe?”

“Just making myself comfortable,” I replied, as my hands went to the zip of my jeans.

I continued undressing seemingly without a care in the world, and he kept playing, but I could tell he wasn’t as focused as he’d been before. He kept throwing quick glances my way whenever he had a chance.

Soon enough I was left in just my underwear, but I didn’t stop, and went for the clasp of my bra.

“Fuck!” he cried out, he’d clearly messed up something in the game the moment my bra had come off and he’d stared at my breasts one second too long. I could hear irate voices coming from his headphones. “Just let me finish this level and I swear I’ll go down on you until you cum at least three times,” he said in an almost pleading voice.

I simply shook my head as with slow, calculating movements, I slipped my fingers under the hem of my panties and let them fall to the floor.

A horse groan came directly from his throat. “If I have to stop what I’m doing, you won’t be able to walk for the next week.” He tried to sound authoritative, failing miserably. “Please…”

“Keep playing, Armin.” I said walking towards him.

Without giving him any time to realise what I was about to do, I kneeled on the floor and forced my way between his arms, straddling him.

“Candy,” he cried out a little panicked, his hands almost losing their grip on the controller, “what…”

“Shhh…” I whispered in his ear. “Keep playing, not a sound, otherwise your friends are going to figure out something is going on.”

After these words, I started languidly kissing his neck. From the stiffness of his body, around which I was completely enveloped, I knew he was shocked and didn’t know exactly what to do. His shallow breaths were also an indication of his nervousness, and if the angry voices I could hear yelling at him from his headphones weren’t indication enough of the fact that he was pretty distracted, only half concentrating on the game, the hard length pressing against my core would’ve definitely been a telling hint.

“Fuck!” he groaned the moment I lowered the hem of his boxer briefs and took him in my hand. A couple of short, tentative strokes.

“MadHatter what the hell!” I heard someone yelling, and I knew Armin was finding more and more difficult to concentrate. Without wasting any more time, I lowered myself onto him, filling me to the hilt.

“Shhh…” I whispered again, as he started making a series of unintelligible sounds. “Don’t even think about muting the mic. Eyes on that screen and play, I know how important it is to you.”

I started riding him slowly, almost excruciatingly slow. I knew I was making him go completely crazy. My hands where at each side of his head, holding the bed frame. No other parts of our bodies were touching, except for our cores, and my nipples rubbing against his still clothed chest, every time I moved up and down.

“Candy… Fuck… I can’t… this is too hot…”

I knew he’d dropped the controller the moment I felt both of his hands on my ass, as he started guiding my movements faster and deeper. The irate protests of his teammates coming from the headphones signalled he’d just left out of the blue in the middle of the game. Everyone was probably getting slaughtered by the other team, but he didn’t seem to care. He took my lips with his and gave me a hungry, mind-blowing kiss.

Our movements got wilder, the pace almost brutal, punishing. I was throwing all my anger into it and, at the same time, he was taking everything and demanding even more, his fingers probably leaving ten small bruises on the skin of my ass cheeks. I was sure we would either pass out soon due to lack of oxygen or seriously hurt ourselves.

A few minutes later, when he took one of my nipples in his mouth and sucked it roughly, I came completely undone, crying out his name as he spent himself inside me.

“I don’t know what I did to make you so angry,” he said after a while, as we both caught our breaths, “but I should probably do it more often.”

“Or maybe you should just pay me some fucking attention,” I retorted. “Instead of playing with your online friends all the time. And then, maybe, you would get fucked senseless more often.”

He moved his head so that now he was looking at me in the eye with his signature jokester smile. “Are you jealous, babe?”

I grabbed his hair, pulling maybe a little more roughly than necessary. “I’m not jealous! It’s just…you’re mine!”

“That, I am.” Without losing his hold on me, he got up and threw me onto the bed.

“Armin what the…”

“I told you, didn’t I? If I had to stop playing, you wouldn’t be able to walk for a week.” He cheekily, replied as he took off his t-shirt and underwear and joined me on the bed.

He didn’t go back online until the end of spring break.

#my candy love #mclul #mcl armin #amour sucré #mcl #my writing #writeblr #writing prompts #lemon

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hookedontaronfics · 5 years

Text

Honky Dancer series - Chapter 1

NEW SERIES ALERT

Chapter title: Auditions Rating: M Pairing: Taron x OC Warnings: None at this time A/N: I was inspired to write a series based on the perspective of a Rocketman dancer. I hope you enjoy following a London-based dancer from her first audition run-in with Taron to maybe so much more - but don’t forget a healthy dose of drama along the way! More mature themes will develop, so be warned! Enjoy! x

“And first position … second … third … and fourth … now fifth. Good, and again.” I swept my arms gracefully through the positions my muscles knew by memory and my mind knew by heart. I’d learned the basic positions when I was no older than the girls I now taught, in their adorable pink tutus and bright shiny faces. “Keep going, that’s right,” I encouraged, walking between the barres and making adjustments while the 5-year-olds moved through each ballet position to the music I had queued.

I kept a watchful eye on these aspiring young dancers, hoping to instill in them the love of dance I had grown up with my entire life. Even when I offered corrections, I tried to do so in an encouraging manner. I’d had my share of critical teachers and even a few who thought I wouldn’t get that far. But I’d never let it bring me down and only used the negativity to push harder for what I wanted. Until, that is, a nearly career-ending injury four years ago that had kept me off the stage and behind studio doors instead. I’d made the transition to teaching on the advice of a dance counselor, and I knew I would never look back.

I ended class with some easy stretching and accepted the cute hugs and calls of “Thank you, Miss Juliette!” as my class filed out to their waiting mothers [and two fathers, bless their hearts.] Once the last girl had left I quickly packed my bag as Madison pushed her way in through the door.

“Oh my god, are you excited?” she asked me as I traded out my slippers for sneaks and pulled on a pair of comfy sweatpants and a hoodie over my leotard.

“I’m so nervous I could puke, but I won’t get an opportunity like this again. And I feel like I’m finally ready,” I grinned, making sure I had everything I needed in my bag for the audition I was already running late for. “Thank you for subbing my next class, I appreciate it, Mads,” I grinned, giving her a hug.

“It’s no sweat, now go!” she laughed, fairly pushing me out the door. “And break a leg!” she giggled as I groaned inwardly.

I rushed out of the dance school and hurried along Balderton Street to Oxford, heading toward the Bond Street tube station and taking the train across town to the Paramount studios on Chiswick. I snacked on a protein bar to keep my energy up while we rumbled over the tracks, doing a few stretches to keep my muscles loose as I wouldn’t have much time to warm up again when I got there. If anyone was staring at me, I ignored it, but I’m sure the tube riders had seen far worse than a few grand plies.

Once I arrived at the studio I hurried through the check-in process as quickly as possible. I was issued my number and told which group and studio to join before I rushed off to the bathroom to change. I’d chosen a sparkly magenta pink leotard I’d used for a performance piece years ago for this audition - I was trying out for the dance ensemble cast for Rocketman, the Elton John biopic, so even if it was a bit over-the-top I felt it was appropriate.

I pulled on tights and a black ruffled short skirt over that and strapped on my character shoes. I let my strawberry blonde hair down out of its tightly woven bun and dashed on a bit of thick eyeliner before affixing my number with safety pins. I put on bright pink lipstick and grinned at myself in the mirror. I certainly looked the part, I thought, stashing everything else in my bag and going to find my group.

I dropped my dance bag against the wall with everyone else’s stuff and found an open spot on the floor, sitting in a deep split and doing a few stretches while everyone else either chatted excitedly or went through their own personal warmups. The buzz in the room instantly cut out as a trim stately man strode in; I instantly recognized him as the choreographer we’d be working with. Waves of excitement and nerves washed through me in equal measure as we all stood and lined up without being instructed to. Several other people came in and took seats along the wall; I presumed they were likely producers and crew of some variety.

I tried to secure myself a spot in the middle front; even if I wasn’t feeling the most confident, I could certainly fake my way into it. This was my first professional audition since I’d made company - and later principal - for London Ballet Company. All of my dance dreams had shattered after the injury that meant I couldn’t do pointe work any more, but I’d thrown myself into classes in other styles as a sort of rehab process and in an effort to diversify my skill set, and found I loved jazz and Broadway the most.

So here I was, giving my all through the brief warmup, across-the-floor exercises, and combinations, hoping to catch the choreographers’ eye. I knew I was one dancer in a field of hundreds, some coming from other countries just for this chance. But I also knew how badly I wanted a spot in the ensemble, to be a part of such a spectacle.

My favorite combination involved a bit of a complicated leap into a fan kick; I could see other dancers struggling to get elevated but I felt so completely in my own element, soaring across the floor and losing myself to the music, which unfortunately wasn’t actually from Elton’s catalogue. We were split into smaller groups to perform the series of steps for the choreographer; at the end of it, I added my own little flourish, dropping into a very Fosse-style pose with curved shoulders and tilted hips. The choreographer brushed past me as he circled our group, muttering “very good” so only I could hear. I couldn’t help but smile, but kept my eyes low.

We were given a twenty-minute break after everyone had a chance to perform, and the choreographers from each room of dancers would be making first cuts before we would all be shuffled together and given a full routine to learn and perform on an actual stage. I dearly hoped I’d be making it through the cut, but sometimes not getting a part had nothing to do with how good a dancer you were. Directors sometimes wanted a specific “look,” and I had no idea if this would hold true for Rocketman or not.

The hallways were far too noisy for me so I stepped nimbly over dancers sprawled on the floor as I traveled away from the studio rooms, trying to find somewhere quiet to listen to my music and try to find a bit of peace. I filled my water bottle at a drinking fountain before turning a corner and leaving all the other dancers behind. I probably should have just plopped myself here, but curiosity got the better of me, so I followed down this hallway too, my character shoe footsteps echoing in the quiet even as I tried to walk softly. I plugged my headphones in and was just about to hit play on my Spotify playlist when I heard a couple of voices coming from a cracked doorway. The room had a bank of sweeping windows and I couldn’t help peering in; some day I would learn to tame my incessant curiosity, but today was not that day.

Three men stood inside, involved in what looked like a serious discussion. I couldn’t really make out much of what they were saying, their voices just low murmurs, but I thought I might have recognized one of them. Just then they all turned to head toward the door, and I ducked away from the window, hoping I hadn’t been seen. As I slowly tried to sneak away, the door swung open rather suddenly and flew straight into me, sending me sprawling onto my hands and knees, my phone skidding across the floor.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” the handsome young man I recognized said, instantly offering his hand to help me up and looking embarrassed. I took it, noticing how soft his skin was but how strong he felt as he helped bring me back to my feet.

“It’s alright,” I said with a laugh, brushing off my knees and hands and retrieving my phone from the floor. “Nothing hurt but my pride,” I said as he looked me up and down, taking in my obvious dance garb.

“Here for the auditions, then?” he smiled warmly at me, as the other two men carried on their conversation.

“Um, yes, though I’m hoping I’ve danced with more grace than I just displayed,” I grinned good-naturedly. “Though I should get back to that now.”

“Well I wish you best of luck, Number Two-Nine-Four,” he read off my assigned number with a smirk.

“It’s Juliette,” I supplied with a laugh.

“Juliette then, you may call me Taron,” he replied, smiling so widely his dimples showed through.

“Holy shit, you’re Elton!” I gasped, covering my mouth with my hands and making the other two men halt their conversation mid-sentence as they gawked at me.

“That’s up for debate but yes, I’ll be attempting to play him,” Taron grinned at my shock. I knew now how I’d recognized him, from the Kingsman films. But standing here in front of him was an entirely different thing. He was totally unassuming, just dressed in jeans, a black sweatshirt and a ball cap with “twenty-two” scrawled across it.

“I’m sure you’ll be wonderful at it,” I laughed lightly, trying to not feel shy in front of him, but for his part he did everything to try and make me feel at ease.

“I suppose if I was shit Elton wouldn’t have chosen me,” Taron just chuckled.

“No, I don’t think so. Well, it’s very nice to bump into you but I really must get back,” I said softly.

“Wouldn’t want you to be late, love,” he said with a wink. “We’re heading to the stage now,” he added, making my insides feel rather funny all of a sudden. “Maybe I’ll see you there.”

“Maybe,” I agreed a bit faintly, hurrying back down the hall the way I’d come, my heart pounding and unaware that Taron’s gaze lingered on my willowy frame. The hallways were already deserted and I worried I was late, but I slipped back into the studio room just in time, as we were all called to line up again.

The choreographer was holding a notepad and after thanking everyone for coming out and giving our hardest work, told us only five numbers from our room were advancing to the stage routine. I closed my eyes at that; five out of a room of 35. There’s no way I’m getting through this cut, I thought. I was confident in my abilities but there was so much talent it was practically dripping from the walls.

“If your number is called, please come join me up here,” our choreographer said, and rattled off the first number, 162. A spry male dancer who had all the marks of “ballet” written in his physique left our ranks and joined the choreographer at the front, fairly beaming to be one of the chosen. Next up was 052, a fiery redhead with a pretty face; 291 [so close], a black muscular male with a sweet expression; and 112, a tow-headed boy who looked barely out of secondary school.

I closed my eyes and held my breath as the last number was read, even if I had no chance. “294!” the choreographer called, and no one moved a muscle. Someone next to me tapped me on the shoulder, my eyes still screwed shut tightly.

“Hey, I think that’s you!” a girl whispered as the choreographer called my number again.

“Oh,” I laughed in disbelief, walking to the front in stunned silence as the choreographer clapped for us and everyone else joined in. After more thanking of all the auditioners, the people who hadn’t made it were dismissed, and after much chatter and shuffling of bags, it was just us five left. We’d all been told on the audition notice to bring black pants and a white button-down shirt we could dance in and tap shoes, though the particular style they had left up to us, and we were now instructed to change into those clothes and join all the other dancers in another studio room in ten minutes. I decided to leave my leotard on under my shirt, only doing up three buttons so it could still flash through. I switched my character shoes out for actual taps and then dashed off a squealing text to Madison that I had made it through the first round of cuts.

<Oh my god, that’s so exciting! So what happens next?> she texted back immediately.

<But you’ve been taking hours and hours of classes! I’m sure you’ll do great> she sent back with about ten winky-face emojis. I had to laugh at that.

<Gotta go, I’ll let you know if I make it through to solos.> I stashed my phone in my bag again and made it to the large studio room in time, lost in a sea of other black-and-white clad dancers, all of us trying to individualize in some way, with bright lipsticks or colored socks or patterned scarves tied round our heads. We were all handed cheaply made top hats and shown where to stand. The dancers from each room seemed to band together, so I was in line with the other four from my room, trying to give them encouraging smiles.

“We’ve got this,” I said under my breath to the tow-headed boy next to me, who looked incredibly nervous though he was probably one of the best talents in the room, even so young. He nodded at me and smiled kindly in appreciation, so I gave him a goofy thumbs up before the choreographers addressed our room.

There were about 60 of us, and I strained to hear what was being said over the coughs and rustles as dancers adjusted their clothes. Still, I got the gist of it and then we were hard at work, learning pieces of the routine, repeating each small snippet over and over and then quickly breezing through the next. It felt like a blur, but I did what I knew to do best in these situations; I linked each piece of choreo to an image in my brain to keep the sequence in order, building on it as we moved through the 2 minutes of routine the way a child might play a game of memory.

We were all sweaty and out of breath when our thirty minutes were up, and soon we were herded to the stage to perform the piece all on our own, as the choreographers and producers and maybe even the director for all I knew sat in the audience. Oh, and Taron, I reminded myself, trying not to let that make me suddenly nervous. The last thing I needed to do was forget the choreography. We stood on the stage under lights, staring out into the darkened auditorium. If I squinted hard enough I could make out the shapes of people in the seats but had no idea who they were. I wondered if Taron was out there looking for me, and the thought of it made me smile.

The strains of music began and soon we were lost in the whirlwind of the dance, performing the piece like we’d been rehearsing for months. It was nice to feel like I could rely on the dancers around me as much as they could rely on me. Sure, we were all competing against each other for those coveted spots, but we were also performers at heart. And so, for those two minutes, we leaped and we spun and we tapped and we shone.

When the music was over we all stood around on the stage together, whispering and waiting as the shadows in the audience deliberated our fates. I didn’t think I had missed a step, and I looked forward to giving my solo, a piece I had worked hard on and that had made Mads cry when I performed it for her. Still, twenty people wouldn’t be making it through this round and that made me even more anxious than I already was.

After about ten minutes someone called for order, and we quieted down immediately. Numbers were called quickly, dancers cheered or groaned, and I was thankfully called up somewhere in the middle of the pack this time. My relief was probably evident. We were given about twenty minutes to prepare whatever we needed to; I chose that time to eat another protein bar and chill out to some music. I had a simple costume for this piece, wanting my dancing to be center stage. I kept the black pants but exchanged the leotard and shirt for a black dance bra and black vest. I slicked back my hair into a sleek ponytail and pulled a hat low over my eyes. I wiped off the pink lipstick and left my lips neutral, but painted my eyelids black. It was a dramatic effect and exactly what I was going for.

We had to pick numbers and of course I chose the last slot, so I had a lot of time to wait around. We all were told we could sit in the auditorium seats if we wished to watch each other at this point, and I sat with my new-found “friends” from my original group, all of who had made it through the tap round. There was Pietre, the soft-spoken young boy; Dennis, the athletic black dancer; Leah the precocious redhead; and Markus, the handsome ex-principal. Markus was quite funny, and I enjoyed sitting next to him as we watched other dancers perform.

Slowly, our ranks got smaller and smaller as each dancer went onstage to perform and was subsequently dismissed. We wouldn’t be told if we had gotten the job until the next day, so this was our last real shot to make an impression. I wished Pietre, Dennis, Leah and Markus all good luck, and their solos were all amazing. It was going to be a tall order for the choreographers to make their decisions, whittling us down to just 30 core dancers.

And then it was my turn. There was no one else left to watch except the people judging me. But as I made my way up the stage stairs, I noticed someone standing in the wings, and realized it was Taron, waving at me and giving me a thumbs up. Had he really stuck around this long to watch me? I was a little dumbstruck at that and ended up stumbling over my own name when I was asked to introduce myself, even though they had my audition sheet in front of them. Get a grip, I chastised myself, stealing another glance at the wings. Despite the low light I could see Taron’s eyes glittering at me and I could feel his eyes following me as I took my place on the stage. I took a few slow breaths to still my mind, needing to go to that place where I was beyond my thoughts, where it was nothing but light and color and music.

I’d chosen Annie Lennox’s “Cold,” a song that was dreamy and ethereal and yet somehow heavy. Lines like “Dying is easy/It's living that scares me to death” and “But the more I want you the less I get/Ain't that just the way things are” hit me in the chest and had stayed with me ever since I heard the song, but when “Catch me and let me dive under/For I want to swim in the pools of your eyes” the image of Taron flashed through my mind, and the words gained a new meaning as I couldn’t let go of the way he looked at me.

When the song ended and I had struck my final pose, the auditorium was dead silent; I could have heard a pin drop aside from my own heart beating. I stood back up and took a small bow, turning to leave because I didn’t think anyone was going to say anything before suddenly someone in the auditorium was clapping, the sound hollow in that giant space. I glanced over at the wing, but Taron wasn’t standing there anymore and for some reason that made me feel empty.

“Thank you for your time, that was lovely. We’ll phone you tomorrow,” one of the faceless shapes from the auditorium told me. I gave them my most winning smile and then was dismissed. I was sweaty, sore and exhausted by the time I gathered my bag up, changing once again into sweats and ready to just head home and tuck into a bowl of homemade Thai peanut chicken curry. I’d done my best and the rest was up to someone else. I had my hand on the exit door when someone called my name. I turned to see Taron jogging toward me, a bit out of breath.

“You were brilliant. They all said it in there, you should have heard them after you left,” he grinned. “You left us all absolutely speechless.”

“I, uhm, thank you,” I replied awkwardly, trying to wrap my mind around what he was telling me.

“You’re absolutely a shoe-in, no question, but you didn’t hear it from me,” he said, winking at me for the second time that day. I let out a nervous laugh at that. “I look forward to working with you, Juliette,” he added, and I couldn’t help my legs feeling a little weak at the way he said my name. I was glad I was still holding onto the door handle to steady myself. On second thought, this might be a major problem, I thought, but he was an actor and I was just a dancer and I didn’t think we’d be spending that much time on set together. Besides that, Taron was on a whole other level from me, so I figured he was only being kind.

“Me too,” I finally managed to reply. He bid me have a good night and then disappeared off down the hall, to do what I didn’t know but he seemed intensely focused on every aspect of this project. He had certainly left an impression on me though, and I could feel my cheeks were flushed.

I finally made my way to the tube station, taking it across the city to my flat and letting myself in gratefully, instantly greeted by my fluffy 2-year-old golden retriever Troy. “Hey boy, mommy’s home,” I grinned, ruffling his fur happily. Madison had stopped in earlier to check on him and let him out, and I was forever grateful to her. Mads had been my biggest cheerleader and supporter since I started working at DanceWorks, and I had never met a sweeter, kinder soul.

<Finally home. We’ll know results tomorrow. Everything seemed to go really well for me> I texted her as I tossed my sweaty dance clothes in the wash.

<Think you’ve got the job?> she asked back.

<Not sure, these things are never certain even if you feel good about it but I did my best and something tells me I impressed the choreographers> I wrote back. Or rather someone, I thought, a small smile drawing across my face.

I set about making dinner, feeling half-starved now, and did my best to relax in front of the television, catching up with my favorite shows. I took Troy on a quick walk around the neighborhood in the late evening before finally taking a long soak in the freestanding bathing tub I’d invested good money in. There was nothing better after a long day of dance then letting my muscles unwind with lavender Epsom salts.

Tired and fully worn out, I stretched out in my bed, ready to catch some shut-eye but of course every time I closed my eyes I could see Taron’s handsome face floating in the dark. I wasn’t about to delude myself into thinking I had half a chance with Taron. From all accounts he was just an absolutely caring and sympathetic man and his co-workers always spoke so highly of working with him. But I could definitely say there was now more than one reason why I wanted the chance to dance on Rocketman.

Keep reading: Chapter 2 HERE

#taron imagine #taron egerton #taron x reader #rocketman fanfic #taron egerton fanfiction

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eastasianfeelings · 5 years

Text

how to go blind with jealousy: Hyungwon

— based on Monsta X as jealous boyfriends

Summary: Your boyfriend Hyungwon’s not the jealous type. So what if you’re a new make-up model on the show Lipstick Prince surrounded by other male idols? No big deal. Right?

Words: 2.8k

Warnings: jealousy, a bit of angst, making out

Dating an idol isn’t easy, especially when you’re a model-wannabe trying to break into the Korean entertainment industry. You and Hyungwon see each other maybe once a week if you’re lucky. You can’t complain, because you want success for him and he does for you as well.

When you get your first TV gig in a while as the nameless make-up model in the next few episodes of Lipstick Prince, you decide to text him the news instead of facetiming him. Monsta X is in the middle of comeback promotions, and you don’t want to risk calling him at the wrong time in the wrong place and accidentally exposing your relationship.

In the weeks leading up to your first Lipstick Prince appearance, the only message you get from Hyungwon is a Congratulations! and a heart emoji. So you’re surprised when you get a message from him on the first day of filming that reads, You’re shooting today, right? Fighting.

You reply with a quick Thank you and a V-sign, and then it’s time to shoot.

It’s the simplest role you’ve ever done: all you do is sit on a stool while a professional make-up artist uses your face as a canvas and explains to a bunch of male idols how to apply make-up. If you weren’t dating Hyungwon, the proximity to so many cream-of-the-crop K-pop idols would probably faze you a lot more than it does.

Your fortitude is tested when Vixx’s Leo, who’s guest-starring in place of N for the episode, asks to try contouring and highlighting on you instead of the mannequin.

“This mannequin head isn’t real,” he presents as his rationale.

Heechul’s bemused: “Of course it isn’t real, Leo-ssi. It’s a decapitated head.”

“So I want to try it out on her. Before I have to do it for real.”

“It is his first time,” the make-up artist acknowledges. “It might be better for him to get in some extra practice.”

“To make sure I don’t mess up,” Leo says bluntly.

Just like that, you’re out in the main filming studio, sitting across from Jung Taekwoon at a small pink vanity with lights shining in your face. You’re working to keep your expression completely neutral. It’s hard, with Leo staring critically at your face.

“But I don’t think her face is the same shape as today’s princess,” he says after several moments of silence.

The make-up artist steps in. “All people are different, Leo-ssi. Part of learning make-up is to understand what will work well with different faces.”

“If you don’t want her, I’ll take her, hyung,” SF9’s Rowoon offers.

“Wait, I need the practice!” Astro’s Eunwoo pipes up. “I’m new, remember?” He’s the one who replaced Shownu as a regular this season.

“Yah, it’s an unfair advantage if they get to practice on the model,” BtoB’s Eunkwang protests.

While the rest of the idols join the conversation, Leo makes a move. You find your chair abruptly tugged close in between his spread legs, leaving you exposed to his judging stare from a short distance.

“Can you pucker your lips,” he says to you, his voice quiet under the hubbub.

“Sorry?” you whisper. You’re pretty sure you’re not supposed to be speaking, but you’re also pretty sure you’re not supposed to be interacting with the idols in the first place, so who knows what goes.

“Pucker your lips. Like this.” Leo sucks his cheeks in and forms a pout that is, frankly, adorable.

“Ah. Yes.” You keep your smile inside and gently pull your lips into a moue.

Slowly, Leo begins applying foundation into the hollows of your cheeks. You’re almost positive that the shade he chose is too light for contouring against your skin tone… but who cares at this point, you might as well enjoy the sensation of having your make-up done by a K-pop idol.

The make-up artist drifts over and starts commenting. “Use the foundation brush to draw a solid line first, Leo-ssi, then use the blending brush.”

That draws the attention of everyone else. “Look at him,” Heechul says with an amused laugh, pointing over at the two of you. “He complained about her face shape and then just went ahead and started practising anyway.”

“I wasn’t complaining,” Leo says. He meets your eyes for a second and repeats, “I wasn’t complaining, you know.”

He’s reassuring you, in an oblique way, and you resist melting on the spot. “Yes,” you murmur, keeping your face as still as possible.

“Good, like that,” the make-up artist says to him. “And don’t forget the setting powder.”

“Excuse me, Teacher! Don’t give him special treatment just because he got the model,” Eunkwang whines playfully.

“Yeah, come help me.”

“Don’t play favourites, Teacher!”

With a barely-there eyeroll, the make-up artist leaves to attend to the others. That leaves the two of you alone, and gives the cameras room to zoom in and capture all the angles. All you can do is keep still, breathe as silently as possible and avoid all eye contact, lest your expression give you away.

Even once practice is over and you’re off the set, the flutters remain in your stomach. You did not expect this gig to come with so much contact with the idols.

Not that you mind, of course.

The next time you see Hyungwon is the day your first episode of Lipstick Prince comes out. He invites you over to watch it together, which surprises you, and you happily accept.

It’s Jooheon who opens the door and invites you in. “Noona! Long time no see.”

“Hey, Heony. You’re home too?” You follow him into the living room, where you find Hyungwon queuing up your episode on the television.

“Hi, Y/N-ah,” Kihyun greets you from the sofa, where he and Changkyun have gotten a start on Hyungwon’s snacks. “Congrats on your feature.”

“It’s not exactly a feature, but thank you, Kihyun-ah,” you laugh, plopping down beside him. “Changkyunnie, pass the chips?”

Hyungwon turns around then, and you get your first good look at him in what feels like forever. You can feel a smile spreading automatically on your face.

“Aren’t you going to say hi to me?” he asks, approaching with a sparkle in his eye.

“Hm, I’m not sure,” you tease. “Do I know you?”

He folds himself onto the couch beside you, slings an arm around your shoulders and pulls you close enough for your noses to brush. “Take a good look.”

As an answer, you close the distance to give him a peck, then pull back and soften your voice. “How’ve you been?”

“Good. Busy.” Hyungwon’s smiling now, his expression so gentle you want to melt into it. “You too, right?”

“Not as busy as you.” You withdraw a little more, conscious of the other members in the room, and look over. “Has everyone been eating and sleeping enough, Kihyun-ah?”

“They don’t listen to me anymore,” Kihyun says promptly, always ready to snitch on his kids. “Ungrateful little punks.”

“I’m going to tell Shownu-hyung that you called us names,” Changkyun shoots back.

Jooheon squeezes in between you and Changkyun. “Are we gonna watch noona’s episode or not?”

“Are you guys all staying to watch?” Hyungwon asks them.

“Why not?” Changkyun says.

“We’re supporting Y/N-ah,” Kihyun says.

“Though Kihyun-hyung just wants to see if he knows more about make-up than the idols on the show,” adds Changkyun.

Kihyun just shrugs, unashamed. “Hyungwon-ah wouldn’t even know that the episode had aired if I didn’t tell him.”

“That’s not true,” Hyungwon says, and starts the episode to prevent further accusations.

As the long introduction plays out, you wriggle around and get comfy. Hyungwon’s arm is draped along the back of the couch, and it makes a perfect headrest for you. You feed him some chips and he crunches quietly.

When the episode reaches the part where Leo asks for you, Kihyun shoots you a confused look. “Is this new in season three? Letting them practice on the models?”

You shake your head. “I think Leo-ssi just came up with this on his own.”

“Eh, look at that facetime, noona,” Jooheon crows.

The episode has cut to a montage of Leo and the careful work he’s doing to your passive visage. There are some extra flowery captions along the lines of “lost in their own world” and “oblivious to the chaos”. You’re mostly just startled and slightly impressed by your own ability to be expressionless.

“You can’t tell that I’m freaking out inside, right?” you check, pointing at the screen. “That’s a cool, chic expression, right?”

Kihyun considers, then nods. “Yeah, it passes.”

“Perfect.” You sit back, satisfied.

Changkyun reads off the subtitles that the show has added. “‘When we’re together, we don’t need anything else.’ Noona, are you sure this isn’t a feature?”

“Don’t read it aloud!” you say. “This is literally five minutes out of a fifty minute episode, it’s nothing.”

“Ten percent isn’t nothing,” Kihyun says. “Right, Hyungwon-ah?”

You all turn to look at Hyungwon. He’s been silent this whole time, which isn’t unusual for him. What is unusual is how focused he is on the TV. You’d half-expected him to be asleep by now.

“Hyungwon-ah?” You nudge him gently.

He looks from the TV to you. “Hm?”

“You still here with us?” you tease.

He blinks at you, then looks back to the TV. “What is he doing, right now?”

“What? Leo, you mean? He’s contouring.”

“…Why is your face like that?”

“My face? What is it like?”

Hyungwon stares at the screen some more.

“Like you’re going to kiss him,” he says finally.

You draw up in shock. “What? I’m not, that’s just the best way to find the face contour, really. Kihyunnie, tell him.”

“It’s true, Hyungwon-ah.”

“So why were you freaking out inside?” Hyungwon asks.

“Well, it’s a nerve-wracking situation,” you point out.

He doesn’t have an immediate reply. You settle back against the couch and focus on the episode again, keeping one eye on him.

Once your five minutes of glory are past, the rest of the episode is smooth sailing, mostly because everyone grows disinterested except for Kihyun. By the time the episode ends, you’re nodding off while Jooheon and Changkyun play a game of who-can-eat-nachos-the-loudest.

“Ah, great job, Y/N-ah,” Kihyun says generously as he turns off the TV. “You somehow looked okay even after Leo-sunbae put all that powder on.”

“Yeah,” you say with a sleepy laugh, “he kind of went overboard with the brush. At least he didn’t get too much in my mouth.”

Hyungwon’s arm tenses behind you, waking you by several degrees. When you look at him, he’s not dozing as you expected; in fact, he looks very alert.

“It wasn’t too interesting for you, right?” you say to him. “Thanks for watching it with me.”

“Did you know any of those idols before you filmed this episode?” he asks suddenly.

You’re taken aback. “Um? No, not personally. I’d heard of them, obviously, but I think the point is that the make-up model is a no-name stranger.”

He contemplates some more. “I think,” he says, “I wouldn’t have acted like that with a no-name stranger.”

“Acted like what?” Is he accusing you of something?

But he purses his lips and doesn’t answer.

You sit upright and let his arm fall away. Beside you, the other three members are now paying attention. You can feel Jooheon shifting nervously.

“Yah, hyung,” Changkyun speaks up. “You’re making noona feel bad.”

Quickly you twist to reassure him, “I’m fine, Changkyunnie.”

Hyungwon’s arm comes back up around your shoulder, restricting you from turning all the way. You frown and turn back. “What is it, Hyungwon-ah?”

He finally opens his mouth and says, “I didn’t know it would be like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re getting intimate with them.”

You draw back against his arm. “Intimate??”

“Hyungwon-ah, don’t be a prude, the whole focus of this show is the heart attack point,” Kihyun steps in.

“Is it?” Hyungwon says slowly.

“Weren’t you watching, hyung?” Jooheon says.

Hyungwon doesn’t move his gaze from you. “You didn’t tell me,” he says.

“Tell you what?” you say, exasperated.

He motions vaguely at the screen. “All those idols… it’s like a flirting show.”

“Well, yeah. Didn’t you see Shownu-oppa flirting when he was on the show?” you retort.

His mouth purses again as he thinks. Behind you, Jooheon’s jiggling his knee nervously.

You reach back and place a hand on Jooheon’s leg. “Jooheony, it’s okay.”

But as soon as you touch him, Hyungwon leans in and pulls your hand toward him so he can hold it. “Y/N-ah.”

“What?” You frown at him. “What is it, why are you mad?”

“I’m not, I’m not,” he says quickly. “I’m just… confused.”

Well, that makes two of you. You tug your hands away. “Confused about what?”

Hyungwon opens his mouth to answer, then glances behind you. You turn and see Kihyun, Jooheon and Changkyun watching you both with varying degrees of squeamish interest.

Fortunately, they get the signal. “Uh, I have work to do.” Changkyun stands and brushes the chip crumbs off his lap. “Jooheon-hyung, you coming?”

“Oh yeah, of course!” Jooheon hastily agrees, and the two maknaes make their exit.

“Yah, you slobs left crumbs all over the carpet!” Kihyun hollers, following them into the bedroom hallway. “Don’t track food into the bedrooms!”

Just like that, you’re left alone with your boyfriend.

Who still looks like he’s got something on his mind, his gaze roving over your face. You feel antsy, for some reason; you shift backward on the sofa, distancing yourself, and try to figure out what to say.

“So — ”

“Did he say anything?”

You blink. “What?”

“Leo-seonbaenim.” Hyungwon nods to the TV. “When you were shooting, did he say anything?”

“Uh, besides what he said on-camera? No, nothing.”

He shifts forward. “He didn’t try anything?”

“Well, what do you mean by ‘try’?” You scrunch your brow, wondering exactly what he’s getting at.

“Beyond applying the make-up. Did he do… anything inappropriate?”

Your brain works for a moment. Then you burst into laughter. “Anything inappropriate? Leo?”

Hyungwon’s drop-dead-serious face just makes you laugh even more.

“C’mon, he’s like the quietest idol ever,” you manage around your chuckles. “Are you seriously asking if he tried to hit on me?”

Hyungwon surges to his feet and walks to the other side of the room; his ears are turning red. “You said it yourself, it’s a flirting show.”

“I’m the make-up model.” You march over to him and pull on his hot ears. “Nobody’s flirting with me, Hyungwon-ah.”

He turns swiftly and clasps your hands in his again, searching your eyes.

“Believe me,” you reassure him, trying to tame your smile.

“Not even Heechul-seonbaenim?” he says reluctantly.

You suppress another laugh; he probably wouldn’t appreciate it. “No, Hyungwon-ah. Believe me, okay?”

Hyungwon is still looking into your eyes like he might unearth the truth in them, so you rise on your tiptoes and fit your lips against his.

It’s a chaste kiss at first, but there’s an instant sense of rightness that rolls through your body and mind with the feel of him so close to you. It’s always there, every time the two of you are together, and it makes you believe in things you didn’t expect to. You press in, craving more and also wanting him to feel it too, to want you too — then abruptly your back is against the window, hands pinned to the glass, as Hyungwon presses his body to yours and begins kissing you back.

He takes his time, advancing and retreating and exploring different angles in luxurious slow-motion that has you opening for him without resistance. You know he likes it like this, being able to have and take what he wants at his own leisure, knowing that you’re enjoying every moment of it.

When you start getting lightheaded, you dip your head and duck away from him to catch your breath. He’s panting quietly in your ear.

You wet your lips and carefully meet his gaze. “You believe me now?”

He mirrors your action, tongue flicking out like a gleam of siren song. “Mm.”

“I love you,” you say softly.

His eyelashes flutter as he closes his eyes for a moment. He opens them again and whispers, “I love you too.”

Smiling, you coax his hands off the glass so you can stand up straight again. “Thanks for inviting me over to watch my episode together.”

“Anything for you.” Hyungwon leans down to brush a kiss against your forehead.

“I’m glad to hear you say that, actually, because…” You step back and gauge his expression. “I actually have two more Lipstick Prince episodes to film.”

He stiffens.

“You’re going to be cool with that, right?”

His jaw works for a bit; he stays silent.

“You’re not going to go blind with jealousy or anything, right?” You’re starting to grow amused again.

“Well…” He pivots you around and starts walking you back to the sofa. “I won’t make any promises.”

“What does that mean?” Your calves hit the couch and you fall onto the seat cushion.

Hyungwon follows you down, one knee beside your legs. “It means no promises,” he repeats simply, and proceeds to kiss you into oblivion.

Author’s note:

I have an entire other draft where you and Hyungwon are just friends and it was almost 4k words long until I finally acknowledged that it just wasn’t going in the right direction. OTL Anyways, hope you enjoyed!

Also, here’s a bonus GIF of Leo just because.

#hyungwon #chae hyungwon #monsta x #hyungwon fic #monsta x fic #monsta x scenarios #monsta x imagines #hyungwon x reader #kpop fic #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #eaf original #leo #vixx leo #vixx #eaf: jealousy series #eaf writes monsta x

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ourimpavidheroine · 6 years

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Sayuri and Zu at a Bad Mover (for tortoisesforhire)

“Two for An Earthbender’s Revenge, please,” he said, shoving his glasses up his nose, patting at his various pockets, searching for his wallet.

“Or maybe we should get two and a half.” Sayuri patted at her noticeable baby bump. “Although to be fair little Dumpling here would only be able to hear it, not see it.”

The woman selling the tickets snapped her gum apathetically. “How many did you want?”

“Er, just two are fine.” Hmmm. He was running out of pockets. “Didn’t I bring my wallet?”

“Oh, I picked your pocket when we were getting out of the car.” She produced it from one of her own pockets. “You know what QiQi says, practice makes perfect.” She beamed at him.

“I never felt it!” He beamed back. “You are getting better!”

“Is someone going to pay for the tickets?” The ticket seller frowned.

“Right, right, of course.” He fished out some yuan and handed it over, taking the tickets in return, holding his arm out for Sayuri. She was normally graceful and light on her feet but had begun to totter a bit this far into her pregnancy, her balance just slightly off. She’d stumbled on the way into dinner a few nights prior and his father-in-law had immediately put forth his opinion that she should henceforth stay off of her feet, an opinion which Sayuri most vociferously did not agree with. She was already disgruntled about being forbidden any of her noxious chemicals in her workshop, but it was Meili who had put down her elegant foot over that one. Sayuri, he’d come to learn very early on, simply didn’t hear whatever it was she didn’t want to hear; taking after her royal father that way. But even she backed down when Meili made a decision. People might think that it was his eldest sister-in-law that was the most intimidating; she was, after all, a warrior, one of the greatest firebenders alive, the wife of the Crown Prince of the Fire Nation, not the beautiful and serene waterbender healer Meili.

They’d be wrong on that one. So very, very wrong.

He queued up at the snack bar while she first went to use the toilet and then inside to get them seats, remembering her bubble tea, going back and forth between sizzle crisps and miniature mochis before purchasing both. It wasn’t hard to find her once inside; she was very particular about where she sat, needing it to be exactly the proper distance away from the screen and not too close to any of the walls or else she’d spend the entire mover fretting and squirming. Not to mention her hair was out in force, barely held back by a waterbender clasp that he believed she had somehow gotten from Sitiak. Spirits knew how; she could have stolen it or simply asked for it, anything was possible, really, when it came to his wife.

He loved her so very much that sometimes he’d lay in their bed, in the entire suite her royal father had renovated for them on the third floor, marveling at how lucky he was. It was like someone had reached into his head and found the perfect woman and had brought her out, idea made flesh, into his amazing Sayuri.

“My bubble tea!” She reached out her hands, delighted, and immediately popped the straw into her mouth.

“I got us both sizzle crisps and mochis.” He removed her book from his seat, tucking it into the satchel he'd brought with him, before sitting down. “And Cork provided me with some snacks from home, as well.”

“Yes, very good,” she said. Meili had taken them all aside at the beginning of the pregnancy and told them to feed Sayuri whatever she’d eat, whenever possible. She was naturally thin as it was and, when she’d get caught up into something, prone to forgetting to eat if not forcibly reminded. They’d all gotten into it; Grandfather LoLo and Cork whipping up dishes they knew she liked in the kitchen, Grandmother Lin imperiously ordering her back into the house for meals, both his father-in-law and his royal father-in-law in turns cajoling and commanding her to eat. His mother-in-law would take her hands into theirs, kiss Sayuri’s knuckles, and in that quiet way of theirs say, Baby, the baby needs to eat now.

The somewhat unfortunate result of all of the extra food was that he’d also put on a little weight as well, his trousers getting tighter and tighter until he’d finally admitted to himself that he’d better update his wardrobe. He’d tried on his new clothes for her and asked her, joking, if she wouldn’t be happier with someone who looked more like her devastatingly handsome sandbender brother-in-law. She had watched him for what seemed an incalculably long time before reaching out to put her fingers across his mouth. My Zu, she had whispered, and then, to his shock, tears had began to drip down her cheeks. His Sayuri, who always laughed rather than cried! How could you even say it? she’d whispered, wrapping herself tightly around him, her belly pressing into his, the baby giving a kick hard enough for him to feel. My Zu. My own precious, perfect, perfect, perfect, portly Zu.

The lights started to dim down and he leaned over. “What is the mover about anyhow?” He’d never been very good with keeping up with whatever was current. She turned and kissed him, the thick straw from her drink scraping at his cheek.

“I haven’t the foggiest, but Pearl saw it and told me we couldn’t miss it.”

He adjusted his glasses as he settled back into the seat, absently taking a bite from one of the mochis before handing it to her. The mover scrolled across the screen, the setting a typical Earth Kingdom farm, or at least he thought so. He’d never actually been to an Earth Kingdom farm. There was the virile earthbending farmer, swaggering about the barn and his beautiful young wife, dressed in an improbably stylish dress and heels.

“Nice dress for a farmer’s wife,” Sayuri murmured at him. “Does she go out in the fields in those shoes?”

“Not unless she wanted to break her ankles,” he muttered in return.

“Shhh!” admonished someone from behind them. Sayuri, as per usual, ignored them.

“Maybe she has servants,” Sayuri snickered. “Maybe he just bends her along so she doesn’t have to walk anywhere.”

“Do you mind?” The man was leaning forward, glaring.

“Oh, not at all,” she replied, with a sunny smile and he bit his cheek to hold back his laughter. “Mochi? They aren’t as good as the ones from home, of course, but they aren’t that bad.” She held one out.

“I don’t...just be quiet!” The man’s eyes were starting to bulge out.

“Very rude, my gracious,” Sayuri said with a sad little shake of her head, turning back to the screen. “I vote the wife will be dead in five minutes, at the very most.”

The wife was dead in two minutes; killed by some very ruthless Dai Li agents, employing some very odd looking things that looked like large foam fists, poorly painted, that they quite literally threw at people.

“Honestly,” Sayuri tsked. “That’s not at all what rock gloves look like. And they’d most likely use their rock shoes to get up those walls, after all.”

“SHHH!”

“I once asked one of the Dai Li to capture me with one of his rock gloves to see what it felt like but Daddy found out and put the kibosh on it.”

“That sounds like your father.” He handed her a dumpling from the box in his bag, which she popped into her mouth.

“Well, no worries, QiQi let him, just not where Daddy could see. It wasn’t like he was going to actually squish me, he was very gentle. But my gracious, Papa found out and shouted at QiQi for hours, the impropriety of a Hou-Ting getting grabbed by a rock glove, you know how he is.”

“Really! And they put up with that?”

“Oh goodness no, QiQi just sucked on their teeth and then went for a very long drive. But Papa kept going on and on about it until GrandLin told him to zip it before she zipped him.” She took a deep suck of her bubble tea. “It was an excellent fourteenth birthday, all things considered.”

“Will you shut up!”

“Speaking of someone who could use a glove fist...oh Zu, do we have any more dumplings?”

“Of course.” He handed her another one. They watched for a time in silence as the grief-stricken earthbender swore his revenge on the King, fighting off dastardly Dai Li at every turn.

“He’s killed twenty-seven Dai Li so far,” he told her, finishing off the last of the mochis. “And he’s not even a Beifong.”

“Imagine how many he could have killed if he had been a Beifong!”

“Scads!”

“Hordes!”

“SHUT UP!”

It was a completely ridiculous mover; at one point the earthbender, waving his arms and randomly stomping his feet, swirled a single small rock in excruciatingly slow motion above his head as the Dai Li stood about, waiting for his attack, which improbably killed all six of them when it finally hit them, knocking them all down despite the fact that it only hit one of them. Several people booed enthusiastically and a man a few rows below them got up with a snort and left, shaking his head. “Couldn’t even hire an actual earthbender,” he grumbled as he left.

“It’s worse than watching Uncle Bo trying to be a waterbender,” Sayuri said happily.

“Oh! There goes what’s left of his shirt!” He scrutinized the actor. “Not as good looking as Ping, though.”

“No one’s as good looking as Ping.” She grabbed at his hand. “I swear I saw Meili discreetly checking him out the other day, you know, when he and Tupilek were sparring in the backyard?”

“You never did!”

“I did! I swear I did!”

“Naoki, I’d believe, but Meili?”

“Oh, Naoki, she’d just up and whistle at him with his shirt off, you know she has no manners.”

“You know who else has no manners? YOU!”

Sayuri turned around slowly in her seat, hand pressed to her chest. “My gracious,” she said, in her very best I am terribly put out by your shocking behavior tone and he clapped his hand to his mouth to stifle his laughter.

The scene cut away to what looked suspiciously like the throne room at the Little Ba Sing Se Fashion Mall, stuffed to the gills with what most likely was meant to look like opulent pieces but looked rather like a fairly seedy secondhand shop instead. A short man, darker of skin with spectacles, extraordinarily puffy hair that was clearly a wig and long, heavy robes, sat upon the rather small, albeit ornate throne. A Dai Li agent ran into the scene. Your Imperial Majesty, Hou-Ting, he cried, before kow-towing, and Sayuri let out a shriek of joy.

“Oh! It’s Papa!”

He couldn’t help himself, he started to laugh. “This is the best thing I’ve ever seen!”

I am the wise and venerable Hou-Ting, ruthless leader of the Earth Kingdom, the King on-screen proclaimed, throwing out a hand. Rise and report, minion.

“MINION!” Sayuri choked out, nearly doubled over with laughter. “MINION!”

“But why the wig?” he asked, wiping tears out of his eyes.

“It’s the humidity,” she explained, pointing to her own hair, setting the both of them off again.

Several exoticly dressed men and women entered, clustering about the throne. My royal concubines, the King announced, and Sayuri dropped what was left of her bubble tea on the floor.

“Your father finally got some concubines,” he managed to wheeze out as they clutched each other, trying to breathe.

“I am going to get the manager!” the man behind them roared, but they were well beyond that, simply trying to breathe. It didn’t help that next up was a bear, lumbering into the throne room and that was it, Sayuri nearly slid to the floor.

“I can’t, I can’t,” she gasped, wiping at her face. “Oh Zu!”

His ribs were aching with laughter, but he couldn’t stop; not when the King stood up from his throne, waving his hands about as the concubines tittered, the bear hunched over miserably in the corner of the screen, and certainly not when the King, in a fury, kicked at the hapless Dai Li agent. The very idea of his respectable and sophisticated royal father-in-law shouting death sentences, stamping his feet and gesticulating to the sky while surrounded by a great deal of unclothed flesh - not to mention a chained bear halfheartedly swiping its paws nearby - was simply too much for him.

The Queen! announced a royal servant, and a woman dressed in extremely revealing clothes, complete with terrifyingly high heels and a shocking amount of paste jewels, entered and promptly threw a knife into the wall above the King. Poor Sayuri bellowed, waving her hands about, utterly speechless, pointing at the screen. More specifically, pointing at the extremely improbable mustache on the Queen’s face.

“Oh, oh, oh,” he gasped, trying to hold himself together between whoops of mirth. “But why a mustache?”

“Sex appeal,” Sayuri managed, and then they were screaming with laughter, angry mover goers turning around and shouting at them, the man behind them jumping out of his seat and announcing he was getting the manager. He didn’t care and he knew she didn’t either; they were too busy laughing to care about anything but the Queen on the screen before them, telling all and sundry that she’d kill anyone who threatened the King. Finally, Sayuri put her head on his shoulder. “Oh Zu, I hate to say it, but I think I might need a toilet. In fact, I might have needed one a few minutes ago.”

He immediately gathered together their things, standing up and guiding her up as well. “Let’s get you to one, then.” They awkwardly shuffled past the rest of the people in their row, provoking angry hisses and a shout of Down in front! He got her to the aisle, however, and made sure she was steady on her feet before helping her towards the door and out into the lobby. “Can you manage on your own?”

“Them! Those are the ones!” The man from behind them was pointing at them, infuriated, the manager standing next to him. “Arrest them!”

The manager sighed. “I can’t arrest them, I’m not the police.”

“In any case, we’re leaving,” Sayuri announced. “Although not before I make use of what are very clean facilities, might I add,” she said, bestowing her very best smile at the manager, who looked pleased. “I must commend your staff and your most excellent management.”

“Thank you,” he preened. “Our customers’ comfort is always our first priority.”

“What? Seriously?” The man was outraged. “What about my fucking comfort?”

“Well my goodness, you needn’t curse like that, honestly, the lack of proper deportment in public is just scandalous, really.” She tsked at him before smiling brightly. “Now, you’ve missed some of the film. Would you like us to fill you in before you go back in? No? Suit yourself, then.” With that she sailed off to the toilets, throwing back, “We’ll tell the parentals they need to see it tomorrow night, of course. Shall we come with them?”

“Naturally,” he said, and ate the last of the sizzle crisps while going out to fetch the car.

#date prompts #sayuri #zu

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