#im usually very awkward when it comes to more one-on-one communication as a warning. i dont talk peoplely good | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wincore · 3 years

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field day | jung sungchan

pairing: sungchan x fem!reader

synopsis: when you, as cheer captain, are best friends with the pride and joy of the soccer team, rumors are bound to fly around.

genre: high school au, soccer au, bff2l, fluff

words: 7.5k

warnings: language, jung “the risk i took was calculated but man am i bad at math” sungchan

request: sungchan + ball + “ everyone is looking at us. is that a good or a bad thing? ” (from the first option) ^__^

song recs: after school - weeekly / pleaser - wallows / some - bol4 / sweet talk - saint motel / love so sweet - cherry bullet

a/n: i tried recalling some hs memories for this and im hoping i wasnt the only one that went through the “shipped with a random dude” ordeal LOL. i haven’t written shorter fics in a while so i’m glad i got to. tq for requesting, lovepie <33

In high school, peer pressure tends to come in different forms. For you, it’s taken the shape of this.

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

You look around your classmates, scanning each and every face chanting with glee like you’re a star player scoring the winning point. The tall figure shifts beside you, glancing at you like a blinking idiot. You’re not even on the losing team but it feels just as frustrating.

You glare at the boy beside you. The trouble is Jung Sungchan. The trouble has always been Jung Sungchan.

“Come on!” Chenle calls with a teasing grin from the buzzing crowd. The little shit. It’s getting hotter with each minute you spend by the green soccer field and its dusty chalked lines, just at the tip of the bleachers. You didn’t even get enough time to breathe before you were surrounded, the soccer team pushing a stumbling Sungchan onto you. It’s too sunny for this today.

“The star soccer player gets a kiss from the lead cheerleader after a winning game! That’s the rule.” Chenle announces.

Sungchan looks at you and you turn to him, the both of you looking at each other like fish out of water. Even though you’ve clarified at least a hundred times that you’re just friends, your peers don’t seem to be satisfied. (“Famous last words,” they say.)

“No,” you say, firmly.

“No,” Sungchan agrees, nodding his head wisely.

“Don’t copy me,” you say, smacking his chest, and a quiet ‘oof’ escapes his mouth.

The fact that you’ve been best friends since Sungchan offered you a light green crayon in elementary school just fuels the idea that you have to date. There’s this difference between elementary school kids teasing and high school kids teasing—it was so much easier back when boys were afraid of cooties from girls. It was innocent too. Now, it’s more of nudges and sly grins, teasing with unnecessary innuendo. (What else do you expect from teenagers experiencing puberty?) It doesn’t stop you from being best friends though. Sungchan still visits on Fridays to get on your mom’s nerves and help you with homework (or try to). You still have all the little trinkets he’s gifted you over the years and the lock to his phone is still your birthday. You’re best friends and strictly that.

When you got into the same middle school though is when it started going downhill. Holding his hand was awkward, touching him in any way was awkward and god forbid you compliment him on something. The kids around you would run across the halls saying “(name) likes Sungchan!” or the other way around sometimes. Heathens, the lot of them. But at the very least, he wasn’t too fazed and you wonder how he could be that even-tempered. If it was just you feeling that way, then maybe you did like him more than he did you.

You shake it off.

Sungchan’s much more grown now and at least a foot taller since his awkward adolescent years; he looks handsomer too but you wouldn’t be caught dead saying it out loud. After all, it’s only going to spark another debate on the anonymous school forum. (“(name) finds Jung Sungchan attractive, they’re totally dating.” “I knew it. A boy and a girl can’t be friends, especially if they’re both good looking.”) If you’re being honest, you hate the rumours so much—it’s one of the reasons, apart from puberty, stopping you from being as close as before. However, you do understand that this is how the passage of time works. You’re not going to be spending all of your time with each other, yes, but you still regard him as important. Your life is too busy now, with exams and practice—and you’d think a busy bee would get some honey as reward.

Sungchan’s curls stick to his forehead, unruly after he wiped at them with a towel. The sunlight plays with his eyes when he looks at you intently and you shrug. The smell of sweat is starting to make you nauseous. You remember that you too need to take a shower.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you mumble.

“Not today?” He asks.

You shake your head. “The girls have a plan.”

It’s not just the sweat. Or the crowds. You don’t like being here at all. There’s one more problem with this place.

You hate soccer.

And by hate, you mean you despise it. Like you’ll throw up at the sight of it. What’s so riveting about a bunch of smelly, sweaty guys excited about chasing a patterned ball? You’ve tried to understand it but every time your dad explains the rules, you find yourself zoning out of whatever alien language he speaks.

Sungchan has been the closest to getting you to understand the game and even then, you refused to learn. It’s not like you’re society’s definition of girly—but you’re not a tomboy either. The school has granted you the “ice queen with a warm interior” stereotype so you’ll just go with that. To be honest, you’re just a little more awkward at open affection than your friends. (And Sungchan has the “friendly beagle” stereotype which you’ll agree is partly true. He’s more of a retriever though, with that size.) It’s just funny how you can never seem to know who you are but other people see so clearly.

You hurry up to the locker rooms and hope for a better evening than this afternoon.

The sky burns blue and you wipe the sweat off your brow once you step out of the changing room. Cooling off from your shower has gone to waste. Adjusting your school skirt, you take your usual strides to the school gates.

Ryujin seems to be showing Yuna a very flamboyant dance move while the latter hypes her up. Ryujin is in her gym uniform because she has no care for her reputation apparently, but she makes it work. Yuna’s about to show her own move when she notices you and waves at you vigorously enough to make you jog towards her and stop embarrassing herself in front of the after school crowd. But then again, she’s too cute for that.

“We got bored waiting for you,” Yuna explains, voice hoarse from her cold. Poor thing wasn’t let into performing because of it. “Do you wanna see our cool new move? Ryujin came up with it!”

Ryujin rolls her eyes. “You’re trying to advertise me to (name) so she can recruit me into cheerleading, aren’t you?”

You smile and cross your arms, facing Yuna who’s been caught mid-act. She smiles sheepishly and pats your shoulder like she just said a funny joke.

“Actually…” You begin and Ryujin holds up her arms in a cross.

“No. Never. I’m already part of the hip-hop dance club.”

“I was going to say that I’ll join you instead.”

Yuna gasps in betrayal, big eyes widening, and Ryujin grins before sticking her tongue out and potentially ruining her image with that expression. She doesn’t care, however.

“Anyway, I can’t wait to get to college and join a dance club.” Ryujin looks at the two of you excitedly. “I keep getting snaps from Yeji and feel so jealous.”

Yuna pouts. “Don’t be so happy about leaving me.”

“Aw, is the baby afraid of not getting any more sisterly doting?” Ryujin teases and you laugh at the disgruntled expression on Yuna’s face.

“Don’t worry,” Ryujin continues with a sly grin. “Taehyun’s here to keep you company for another year.”

Yuna turns red in the face, a high pitched complaint emitting from her throat. “I told you to keep quiet about that!”

“Oh, what’s this?” You wiggle your eyebrows. “We’re starting boy talk early today.”

Yuna huffs. “At least, mine’s just a crush. I don’t know what relationship status: complicated you have going on with Mr. Soccer Captain.”

You flush hotly. “There’s no relationship status to be complicated about! Seriously, why does everyone think we’re a thing?”

“You’re cheer captain and he’s soccer captain,” Ryujin answers logically. “Plus, you’re best friends.”

“You have a lot of sexual tension,” Yuna answers honestly.

You make a face, slipping your arms into theirs and pulling them along the sidewalk. You better get something to drink before the sky starts to turn purple from pink tinged blue.

“Ooh, another desperate attempt from (name) to not get teased,” Ryujin leans back to whisper to Yuna.

You stop walking. “Wait. Where are we going?”

Yuna shakes her head. “I’ll lead the way.”

Skipping over the concrete sidewalk, you laugh at your friends and their stories (read: Ryujin gushing over Yeji’s college dance club and Yuna’s newfound crush on Taehyun). The blue sky has tinged orange by now but it’s the sort of colour that sits in between more significant timeframes, like night and evening. Passing by a city square, you eye the people with wonder. A girl in a pink skirt skateboards smoothly over the concrete, her boyfriend filming her with a loving smile.

“We’re here!” Yuna announces.

You look around the large open plaza, with people of all ages and in different attires trying out skateboarding and rollerblading over the grey concrete. It’s been getting popular lately, with idol pop stars taking to it too but you never knew there was this big a community. There seems to be a few stalls renting out skateboards too. The wind caresses your hair, evening cool settling in nicely on your skin. The sky is purple but it’s lit up with the city buildings and street lamps flickering on. It’s not a bad day at all.

Someone catches your attention. A boy that sticks out like a sore thumb everywhere he goes.

“Sungchan?!”

Your eyes somehow always settle on his figure, tall and standing out in the crowd of teenagers. He clutches his blue bag, the one he’s had since third grade, close to his chest and looks more like a tourist in this place than a frequent visitor. He’s not the only one in school uniform now that you’re here.

“(name)!”

You hate how you love the way his face lights up when he sees you. You’re not actually into him. It’s your friends brainwashing you.

“I was going to invite you,” Sungchan says, a sorry smile on his face.

Ryujin and Yuna frown at each other but you can’t exactly ask the reason for it.

“Isn’t it great we had the same plans?” he beams at the three of you.

Yuna suppresses a smile and you wonder why. It’s not like your friends would know he’d be here—you’d know first as best friend.

"How did you guys come across this place?" He asks, eyes round with curiosity.

"Somi's Tiktok," Yuna answers, smiling. "We thought she works here but if she really was, guys would be swarming this place."

Ryujin raises her eyebrows. "Speaking of which, I can clearly see why there are so many girls here."

Sungchan beams, turning to you for affirmation and when you don't give him any, he drops his grin to a more polite smile.

“I don’t work at the stalls though,” he answers. “I’ve just been here a few times.”

“You’re trying to learn, aren’t you?” Ryujin asks, raising an eyebrow.

He nods. However, you furrow your eyebrows at her. How does she know? Eyes widening, you realize it must be the school forum. You remember reading a post about a student wanting to learn skateboarding and the wording felt familiar but you didn’t think much. How they figured it out, you will never know.

“Oh! Oh, I think my nose is bleeding. Oh god.” Yuna sniffs vehemently, her finger at her nose. “I think I’m going to need Ryujin to get me to a clinic.”

Linking her arm through Ryujin’s, Yuna makes an apologetic expression and runs off into a particularly crowded area.

You blink. The realization dawns.

"They just left me," you tell him, exasperated. "How could they just leave me?"

He shrugs. "My team left me at a rival school's field once."

Great. Your last outing before midterms and your friends have abandoned you. If this is the case, you wonder why they complain about you spending so much time with Sungchan and allegedly ignoring them.

You regain a sense of your surroundings and turn to him. "Wait. They really left you?"

He nods diligently, eyes trained upwards as he tries to recall the memory. "I told you, didn’t I? On the plus side though, I made friends with the opposite team."

"That's so… cute."

Your cheeks heat up at saying it out loud. If Sungchan is affected by it in any way, he doesn't show it. Instead, he has his usual smile on.

“Do you wanna try?” he asks. “Skateboarding. Or rollerblading but I personally don’t recommend that.”

He curls his lips, shaking his head slightly. You laugh. Of course this beanpole has trouble balancing on skates.

"I- I figured you'd be good at skateboarding. Since, you know, you're so balanced and all."

You raise an eyebrow. "You wanna add skateboarding to your resume or something?"

"Yeah, that and the ability to imitate dog sounds. Wanna see?"

"No, thanks. I’ll pray this weekend to cure your furry behaviour."

Before he can respond, you’re interrupted by a whirlwind of colours and excited calls. A few girls run up to the two of you, younger and probably in middle school, flocking to Sungchan like bees to honey. Never in your life have you felt so ignored as in this singular moment.

You blink, turning to Sungchan who looks like a rather helpless, flustered eye of the hurricane. The winds don't seem to be stopping any time soon.

You clear your throat trying to get their attention.

"Wow, you brought your girlfriend?" One of the girls exclaims, sounding disappointed.

The other girls make similar whines of disappointment and you have half the heart to whack them over the head and tell them to focus on their academics instead of boys.

"You're so lucky to have him as your boyfriend," a girl comments, round eyes brimming with jealousy.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you declare sharply.

Sungchan looks at you with his doe eyes, blinking cartoonishly. You nudge him with your elbow.

“Yeah!” He agrees, with far too much gusto to be believable. “I’m not (name)’s boyfriend. I have no idea why everyone keeps saying that.”

“Let’s go, babe,” you say, resisting the urge to stick your tongue out at the girls. They’re younger than you and you have high school dignity, you remind yourself.

Slipping your hand into his, you take a few long strides away from them before you realize what you said.

“I- I did- I didn’t mean to call you babe,” you sputter, pulling your hand from his to look at him with wide eyes.

“It’s okay though?”

Sungchan raises an eyebrow and slips his hand back into yours, smiling.

“I don’t mind the rumours, you know?” He says honestly but his smile feels all too teasing. “Maybe we should go out for real.”

You huff, separating yourself from him again. “Maybe you just love attention. Disgusting.”

You point an accusatory finger at him and he bites at it playfully.

“While you're here, wanna see a cool trick I learned?" He straightens only having to tilt his head to look at you.

"If it's you falling on your face, then yes."

"I mean, hey, I could totally do that. Done that several times actually."

You smile despite trying your hardest not to. You like this about him—that he’s easygoing enough to make you look at life less seriously. If it’s with him, you could quit everything that makes you unhappy and start everything you love.

“So where is your skateboard?” you ask, walking side by side with him, who has finally learned to match your pace.

“It’s with one of my friends,” he answers, and points to a tall girl with long brown hair, wearing a pair of tomboyish shorts and T-shirt. Another girl with short hair and a bucket hat accompanies her, wearing a long hoodie and shorts, but she leaves before you reach them. They must be from a different school because you’ve never seen them before. The first thing that pops into your head is that they’d be good replacements for your cheerleading position if you were ever to leave. You shake your head. Now is not the time.

“That’s Jimin!” he introduces, and you wonder how he’s this way—how he makes friends so easily.

Jimin waves at Sungchan and then proceeds to ask if you’re his girlfriend with a big smile, like a script being followed everywhere you go.

She seems a little disappointed at the answer. “Well, I was going to suggest one of the couples skateboards.”

You flash her an awkward smile.

“But those are pretty difficult! I’ve been here for a month and my idea of skateboarding is still sitting on it while Soeun pushes me around. That’s my friend, by the way.”

“Ah.” You nod. “This is my first time skateboarding, actually. The only ‘sport’ I’ve ever done is cheerleading.”

Jimin furrows her eyebrows before her eyes widen. “Wait a minute. You’re the cheerleader best friend that Sungchan wouldn’t shut up about!”

Sungchan flusters, in the subtle way he usually does, and waves his hands robotically trying to explain. “I was just saying- that- that you’d be good at skateboarding. Because of the cheerleading.”

A boxy grin accompanies his explanation.

“Right.” Jimin covers her face and sends an obvious wink your way. “Anyway, you can have my skateboard for the day.”

She hands over a smooth black skateboard with white wheels, but on closer inspection you find that they’re light-up wheels instead. It’s oddly fitting for someone like Jimin even if you’ve known her the entirety of ten minutes. Sungchan is good at finding friends, rather. Soon enough, she runs off after making Sungchan promise he’ll deliver the skateboard home.

The trick Sungchan wanted to show you was a failed kickflip. At the very least, it made you laugh so hard you almost spit out the strawberry milk he’d bought you. Sipping his own banana milk, he sulked for a moment or two, telling you to try it out and see how difficult it is.

On the contrary, Sungchan was right. You are good at balancing on skateboards. But that’s where it ends. You don’t think you’ll be naturally good at kickflips, though being able to glide through the plaza while Sungchan runs after you with the drinks puts a big smile on your face. It’s the most fun you’ve had in a while.

Accompanied by Sungchan’s panicked “oh no”s and “oh we messed up”s, the two of you try the couple skateboarding move too; no one’s watching you here. It’s fun to see him stress over a skateboard because frankly, you’ve never met anyone as easy-going as Sungchan. (“I’ll figure it out along the way,” he says when you ask if he’s studying for finals, and proceeds to get a decent enough score). Suddenly the wandering gap is closed again. You’re not going to worry about stupid rumours from now on.

But for some reason, ‘you like him as a friend’ doesn’t sound right either. Despite having said it so many times, you might not believe in it. You shake off the thought. This evening, at least, you’re going to enjoy with Sungchan without thinking of teenage drama and hormones.

"You still don't think you and Sungchan make the perfect pair?" Yuna pouts.

You narrow your eyes. "I don't take opinions from traitors."

Chaeryoung leans back on her chair, and whispers to you asking if you’re okay. At least someone is concerned about you.

“It hurts to be left by my own friends but—”

“No, I meant, are you okay? Why aren’t you dating Sungchan already? You’re so cute together! And you’re best friends—Netflix writers literally daydream of this.”

You groan, throwing up your hands in defeat.

“And,” Yuna adds, knocking her chair closer. “Who’s really the traitor here? Us who ditched you with the love of your life—or you, who runs off every time she gets a call from her boyfriend?”

“Sungchan is not my boyfriend.” You cross your arms.

“She even shares her lunch with him more,” Ryujin complains from the side. “And they’re not even in the same class. Unlike me, by the way. Class 1 Shin Ryujin. Same class as you, (name).”

You slump, resting your forehead against the desk. At this point, you wish the teacher would walk in and start the class already. Unfortunately, lunch break isn’t over for another ten minutes and lady luck clearly isn’t smiling upon you.

“Speak of the devil!” Ryujin announces monotonously, leaning against her desk.

Sungchan and a few of his friends from the soccer team wave at you and the girls from the classroom door. Noticing Taehyun, Yuna quickly fixes her hair and you would tease her if Sungchan hadn’t casually strolled up to your desk and sat down on the chair in front of you. Long legs barely contained in the space, he adjusts himself by resting his arm on the headrest and his chin upon it. It’s all normal. However, when he leans down to match your eye level, you hear the sudden pit-a-pat of your pulse in your ear. At this proximity, you can even see the mole on his lip that he’s pointed out before. The sunlight from the open windows is pulling golden strings over his eyelashes and his lips aren’t dry as a desert like you expected. You know he uses the watermelon flavoured lip balm.

“Too close,” you croak. Embarrassed at your own voice, you rise sharply and glare at him.

“Is your heart fluttering?” Sungchan asks, smiling as he looks up at you.

You roll your eyes.

You can hear Yuna’s giggling and before you can shoot her a glare, Sungchan calls.

"Do you have any bandaids?"

He points to a rough scratch at the base of his palm, fingers slender and less calloused than what you'd pictured. Then again, soccer players don't use their hands much, do they?

You blink. "You came all the way here for bandaids?"

"Well… I remembered you keep band-aids in your phone case. And the nurse hates me."

You giggle.

Yujin mouths from behind Sungchan, “He just wanted to see her.”

You would feel flattered if you didn't know these people and their shenanigans. They'd do anything for some drama (and to get two innocent people into the dating trap).

“Why would I waste my cute band aids on you?” you mutter under your breath. “They’re limited edition, you know?”

No way are you sticking Ice Bear on your urban hazard of a best friend. A tall, cute, surprisingly polite hazard but he still annoys you nonetheless.

However, Sungchan's pleading smile has grown on you.

You reluctantly take the band-aid out of your clear phone case, the pink panda doll attached to it swaying with the movement. Proceeding, you take Sungchan's hand and lay it on your desk. With careful focus, you place the band-aid, admiring the size difference of your hands before snapping to reality.

Enough with the pink cloud of thoughts, you scold yourself.

When you look up, the proximity makes your heart skip a beat despite the logical part of you saying you shouldn't. Your faces are too close and this time, you don't even have the energy to croak it out.

"Thanks, (name)," Sungchan smiles at you.

Right then, the sound of a chair sliding harshly against the floor makes the two of you jolt away from each other. All of your friends and his friends seem to be sporting Cheshire cat grins and you don't like it one bit. You don't like not being in on the gag.

"Anybody up for gaming after this? My treat." Chenle looks around. “Sungchan is banned from the arcade soccer game though.”

"'Ey," Sungchan complains.

"Hey, Jisung and Ryujin are banned from DDR too but that's because they almost broke the handles off last time."

The memory makes you smile. Sungchan was there too, and you don’t know why you’re only just recalling all the memories with him in it, carefully and in detail. Every one of them seems to have been amplified, the little interactions suddenly coming to mind.

“(name)? You’re coming?”

You take one look at Sungchan and give up. Even if this is another childish ploy by your peers, you don't mind spending some more time at the arcade with infuriatingly addictive games. A tiny part of you is even willing to go along with them and see if it turns out the way they want it to.

“I’ll go,” you mumble, and the rest of the group cheers.

“But I have cleaning duty today.”

The group groans.

“Just get someone else to do it. Like a junior.”

“Isn’t that bullying?” You ask, frowning.

“Ask nicely. Anyone would be willing to do your bidding, (name).”

“Chenle, will you do it?” You give him a sickly sweet smile. “You’re class president after all.”

Chenle wrinkles his nose. “You’re getting stupider every day, (name).”

You sigh. “Fine. I’ll ask one of Yuna’s classmates then.”

“By the way,” Chenle announces. “Only twelfth graders are invited—”

A bunch of groans interrupt him.

“Quit whining.” He crosses his arms, glaring at them. “What do you even have to worry about? We’re preparing for the exam of our lives. Oh, and Jisung is an exception.”

“We’re only two years apart,” Yuna mutters under her breath.

“Oh, and from class 5, only Sungchan is invited.”

Another round of complaints pass and Chenle breaks into laughter. “Just kidding.”

Your friends are and will always be an odd bunch. Sungchan has previously proved to be the weirdest (several times) and it makes him the most lovable too. But then again, you don’t have free space in your timetable to put in teenage crushes, much less falling for your best friend. What you do have time for this afternoon, however, is relaxing at the arcade.

“Let’s go! I am so good at this. Think I’d impress your Steve Curry?” Ryujun gloats, after having scored three hoops in a row at the arcade basketball game.

“It’s Stephen Curry,” Chenle corrects. “And no, let’s focus here. Our goals are—”

He points to the two figures by the DDR machine, looking like a real couple. He’s been acting as damage control for the rumours and making sure you don’t drift apart because of it. They really don’t make guys like him anymore, Chenle sighs. He should get a friendship award or something.

“—those two.”

Really, Sungchan better be thanking him by the end of this. He’s never met anyone quite like Jung Sungchan, especially because Chenle cannot picture himself liking the same person since elementary school.

“Man, now I wish I had a girlfriend,” Chenle mutters.

Ryujin snorts. “Who’s going to date you?”

“You don’t have a boyfriend either,” Chenle reminds and gets a basketball to the shoulder.

“Why are you playing that when you don’t even know how to use it?” Your voice rings through to them.

“I said I’ll figure it out!” Sungchan reasons.

Chenle and Ryujin stare at the two of you blankly, as you bicker over a claw machine game and they share a look.

“Do they need our help?” Ryujin whispers.

Chenle shakes his head. “I think they’ll figure it out from here.”

Soon enough, you were laughing at Sungchan’s failed attempts and trying to outplay him. Your friends have already given you the shove. Chenle and Ryujin share a high five and that’s where the new story begins.

You finally know the thrill of a teenage crush. It makes you so damn infuriated that it had to be Jung Sungchan.

Now every time he waves at you from the field or hands you a bottle of strawberry milk or explains the calc notes you missed or does the bare minimum, you need to deal with the quickening of your pulse and a few butterflies loose from their cage in your stomach. It doesn’t help that you’re almost always together.

The two of you currently sit by the school field, Sungchan tying his shoelaces while you cool off with the water bottle he offered you. Practice ended a while ago for you and the girls have receded into the air conditioned indoor gym. The indoor gym is apparently occupied by the gymnast club and you couldn’t be more disappointed that you didn’t join them instead.

If anything, however, you’d rather leave this whole thing and focus on your academics. Hobbies shouldn’t be draining you—they should feel like skateboarding on a lilac evening with the wind in your hair.

With a friend you like very, very much.

“Sungchan,” you call quietly.

“Hm?”

When he looks up, you can’t hold in the urge to fix the hair out of his eyes. You’ve never been very physically affectionate so it might have come off strange. Sungchan looks at you quietly, stars in his eyes and you clear your throat.

“How long have you been playing soccer? It was before we met, right?”

He hums, eyes traveling up and then back to you when he remembers. “Since I was six. You were there at my first soccer match actually.”

“I was? Oh my god, was it the one you lost horribly and the whole team started crying?”

“Yes. Yes, it was.”

You giggle. “Six year old you would be so in awe now.”

Sungchan beams at that.

“Who knows?” he smiles, looking into your eyes with firm determination. “Maybe I’ll be the next Son Heungmin.”

“Even I know who that is so… no.”

Sungchan pouts and you make a face in disgust. “Don’t act cute, it gives me hives.”

“Okay, maybe not Son Heungmin. I could definitely be the next Park Jisung—and I don’t mean him.”

Sungchan points to a boy passed out on the benches, his exhaustion typical of any high schooler while another boy sits beside him, fanning him with a bunch of assignment papers. Jisung and Chenle really are more entertaining than any game on this field.

You turn to look at Sungchan, who’s moving his head around trying to catch their attention. When he finally does, he waves at them and gets big grins in response. He’s not all that bad, you think. In fact, he’s quite possibly the most amiable boy in senior year.

“Just be Jung Sungchan,” you mutter. “Not Son Heungmin or Park Jisung.”

Sungchan turns to you, smiling wide. “Advice taken.”

You scoff. “Whatever.”

Maybe it’s just you but Sungchan has been glancing at your lips very frequently today and mentally thank Chaeryoung for letting you borrow her lip tint. You didn’t know something so subtle could get you this giddy.

“Are you… going to give the CSAT?” You ask, glancing at him nervously. Part of you is sad you only developed your first high school crush in the very last semester. Or if it’s comforting, you could believe you’ve liked him all this time.

“Nah. Sports scholarship,” he says nonchalantly. “I was going to tell you but… I’ve been scouted already.”

You gasp. “That’s… great. Your future’s all settled.”

Sungchan seems to dislike the idea, lips pursing. “I don’t think anything’s settled except for the next step.”

You nod, somewhat understanding.

“What about you?” He asks. “Any university in mind? SKY? I’ve seen you study extra hours at the library.”

You look away, not feeling ready for the conversation.

“I don’t know,” you say quietly. “I don’t know what I like and what I want. I don’t even like cheer anymore.”

Sungchan gazes at you wordlessly but it’s the most comfortable you’ve felt talking about this.

“Maybe I should quit,” you mumble.

You don’t want to commit to something you no longer have passion for. But then again, you’ve spent so much time on it that it’s hard to leave.

“You should,” he responds, honest.

You scoff, shaking yourself from that moment of vulnerability. “But why would I quit something I’m good at?”

“If you don’t like it. If it hurts to leave but isn’t any better when you stay, you should leave.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re quite the philosopher.”

“I’m smart, right?”

You smile.

“Oy, you two!” Chenle calls, making his way to you two with Jisung trailing behind. “I don’t mean to interrupt your flirting but you got a spare water bottle?”

“Are you two going out now?” Jisung asks as a follow-up, and you feel a hot flush for some reason, unlike the previous times you’ve been asked this question.

“No,” you answer. You don’t mind the idea though now.

“Don’t lie,” Chenle complains. “I saw that picture of Sungchan teaching you how to kick a ball. You? And soccer? Something’s up.”

You throw up your hands in exasperation. “Seriously, who keeps up posting to the school page? And where do they get the time?”

"Two people with this much compatibility will always be a hot topic."

"We're not compatible," you retort quickly.

"Wait," Jisung says. "I know how to resolve this."

You raise an eyebrow.

"How do you have your cereal?" He asks, looking from you to Sungchan.

"Cereal first, obviously," you answer.

Sungchan looks up, finger below his chin as he thinks. "I drink the milk first, then eat the cereal and then breakdance to mix it all together."

You pinch your nose. "I swear I question your sanity all the time."

"Hah! That means you're thinking about me all the time."

You look away, rolling your eyes. He responds with an open-mouthed smile and finger guns.

"See?" Jisung grins. "Compatible."

The gruff voice of Coach Lee startles the four of you and Sungchan leaves with a sigh and a promise of meeting after practice. Jisung leaves with Sungchan and Chenle gives you one last teasing smirk before sitting down and going through the assignment papers he was using as a fan previously. You will never understand his miraculous ways of performing his presidential duties.

You don’t have a good feeling about the next match. The only reason you’re even sticking around anymore—as embarrassing as it—is to spend more time with Sungchan. Being with him puts you at ease, even if the school tries to wrap the two of you in a rope of uneasiness. This is your very last practice, for the next match is the final one of this year and then you’ll be back to spending even longer hours at the library with a stack of textbooks. It’s supposed to be a carefree age. At least, adults say that. Your high school life seems to be riddled with worries, and with that thought, you head into the air conditioned room to take a breather off your anxieties.

Only one more match, you remind yourself.

The pre-match buzz is driving you to the edge.

Your form is off, you can feel it already and Coach Kim isn’t as sunshine-as-rainbows as she usually is, courtesy to it being the last match of your life. She’ll never know though, how much you don’t want to do this.

Sungchan waves at you as he usually does before a match, disappointing a third of his fangirls, but it helps you ease. One last time, (name).

Watching the crowd of people, parents and siblings and friends, all excited and talking makes you take a deep breath. You practiced but it wasn’t good enough. You can never do well at something you don’t like anymore. This time, you feel guilty for committing to things half-heartedly. You want to start that fresh new college chapter already, with all of this behind.

There’s ten minutes left. You go back to the empty hall outside the lockers only to pace. This isn’t helping.

“(name)!”

You turn around abruptly to find Sungchan’s tall figure, and you must be looking miserable because his smile falls.

He doesn’t even ask what’s wrong, only takes careful steps towards you. “Do you need water? Medicine?”

His hands hover over your shoulder but he doesn’t burden you with them. You put your face in your palms and sigh, sinking down to the floor in a crouch.

“I want to quit,” you whisper. Your voice comes off more brittle than you’d like, and you realize that Sungchan hasn’t seen you cry since seventh grade when you failed a math test. You didn’t tell him then but you appreciated him studying extra hours for math just to teach you.

“You don’t have to go out there if you don’t want to,” he says quietly, dropping to the floor beside you. “I’ll stay with you.”

You stare at him dumbfounded. “Don’t be ridiculous! They’ll lose without you—you’re the ace, Sungchan!”

“There will always be an ace,” he retorts. “Maybe Jisung will finally get to shine. Or anyone else. I don’t mind spending an hour with you alone.”

You feel a hot flush spread over your cheeks. Looking away to the side, you mumble an ‘alright’ and only glance from the corner of your eye to see him smiling. Jung Sungchan is the most unreasonable boy you’ve ever met. Perhaps it makes him somewhat loveable too.

“It’s your last match,” you whisper helplessly.

“I’ll join the college soccer club and get to play more matches.”

You sigh, giving in. If he’s so adamant, you think that perhaps there is something in you worth sacrificing his game over. It makes an oddly warm feeling bloom in your chest. Sungchan is so damn convincing with his words. You wonder if it’s really okay.

With shoulders touching, an awkward silence takes over in the next second. You turn to him and open your mouth, watch him do the same and close it at the same time he does.

“You know,” he begins, “I was kind of lying about not worrying because I get the feeling coach will evaporate me tomorrow but—I can handle it. Mostly.”

You stare at him with wide, worried eyes. “You don’t have to do this, Sungchan. I’m the one running away.”

You slouch, pulling your knees closer to your chest and burying your face in them. The urge to scream is boiling within you but you can’t get caught. Not now.

“Sometimes to run is the brave thing,” he responds, insightful. “If you’re not up for it, it’s better to quit early than to regret it in the long run.”

You don’t know if it’s the fact that he just quoted Taylor Swift or spoke like your old school counselor—but you find yourself laughing. He makes sense. Sungchan, in his weird, oddball ways, always makes sense. And in that same way, he feels like home.

“You’re so good to me,” you say, looking up at him and at a proximity you’ve never been before.

It’s his turn to fluster, though he doesn’t do so as visibly as you do. He clears his throat, shifting his eyes around before meeting yours. “I- This is bad timing but… I like you. I really do. Since third grade when you drew that birthday card for me. I have it in my bedside drawer, by the way.”

He looks away and makes a face, probably wondering why he said that out loud.

You press your lips tight to prevent the smile that tugs at them. He looks at you with a wobbly smile, trying his hardest to resume his usual dignity—but he’s just a boy, after all.

“My type is dumb and pretty, though?” You tease, the smile escaping. “You said it yourself.”

He blinks. “Well, I am pretty but if you want me to be stu—”

You shake your head. “I like you too. You don’t have to act cute.”

He pauses, thinking. “I have never acted cute in my life ever. I was born cu—”

You hold his face between your thumb and forefinger. “You do that again and you die.”

He breaks into a smile.

“I’ve never met someone quite like you,” you whisper, embarrassed of your own feelings bubbling up from the bottle you had kept them in.

He laughs, open-mouthed and pretty.

“Actually, hey, I didn’t like you all this time from fifth. I liked you and then I didn’t like you and then I liked you again—”

“Okay, I get it.”

His shoulders relax and he smiles at you. You look up at the clock on the wall by the entrance to the field and bite your lip. You don’t love performing anymore but you know all the girls do, even the stand-bys. Jisung might not have to take over Sungchan’s position but you bet one of those tenth graders would love to take yours, the same way you did back then. They’ve practiced harder than you too and it’s only a matter of deserving.

You take a deep breath and get up, pulling up Sungchan by the hand. He raises an eyebrow, inquisitive eyes scanning over your face and you smile at him, strengthening your resolve. You should have done this way sooner.

Sungchan plays. You don’t let him sit it out with you.

Halfway through, you cheer the hardest you ever have, plastic decorative gemstones stuck by your eyes borrowed from the other girls cheering. It’s much more fun, you think. You’ve never experienced soccer like this. You’d love to sit at stadiums and join in victory chants. There’s enough weight off your chest to yell your lungs out.

Sungchan scores a goal almost immediately after and sends a thumbs up over to you. You laugh. This is the best break you’ve ever taken from cheerleading.

“Ooh, is this perhaps the (name) effect?” Chenle’s voice rings through the speakers and you feel yourself shrink slightly under the eyes. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see your homeroom teacher signal very angrily to the commentator box. You shake yourself off it. So what if everyone’s looking?

Sungchan places his hands on his hips, chest heaving and sends another signal to you before beelining for a straight goal. You whoop and the girl with a notebook beside you is visibly annoyed at this point but you don’t care.

Without doubt, your school wins and you watch as Sungchan runs to his team, a big smile on his face. The second he’s done getting pet by the team, however, he rushes to the bleachers, skipping over the steps to you, panting when he stops. The risk he took was definitely not calculated. He holds up one finger while he heaves.

“My cheering worked best this time, it seems,” you say to him, laughing.

His face is flushed from the exertion but he laughs heartily. “You could be yelling profanity at me and it’d still encourage me.”

You shake your head at the cheesy line. He takes a step forward, well inside your space but you don’t mind. He leans in.

“Everyone is looking at us,” he says under his breath. “Is that a good or a bad thing?”

You look behind him to find the whole team, along with your girls sharing furtive glances and giggling at the sight of the two of you. A few of the junior girls slap each other’s arms, bouncing on the balls of their feet in excitement. You’re not a celebrity. But everyone wants to cheer things on once in a while, don’t they?

“Good,” you answer, before pulling him by the shirt into a chaste kiss. When you pull apart, Sungchan’s face is so struck with awe that you want to look away but instead you bite back an obvious smile. It’s about damn time, someone from the soccer team yells.

“Woah. I think I scored a goal either way,” he says, an offbeat smile on his face.

“Oh come on, we didn’t even get to chant ‘Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!’ yet—oh shit, the mic’s on.”

Chenle is definitely getting an earful from your teacher after this. The two of you wave at him at the box and end up laughing at him trying to hide behind the desk.

As expected, the whole crowd surrounds the two of you in less than a minute’s worth of time, with several congratulations and “good score” offered to the two of you. The boys mess up Sungchan’s hair while the girls compliment you on how cute a couple you are. There’s also the question of when you started dating that pauses the buzz and makes everyone look to the two of you for an answer. Sungchan turns to you and you turn to him, and there’s no way you’ll tell half the school that your confession came in a private hallway outside the field—teenage imaginations run wild.

Instead, you slip your hand into Sungchan’s and run down the bleachers and towards the exit, laughter spilling from your lips. There’s only one place you can think of going to spend a cool blue late afternoon with.

“Skate plaza?” He asks.

“Skate plaza,” you answer.

#cznnet #neowritingsnet #nct x reader #sungchan x reader #nct fluff #sungchan fluff #nct imagines #nct scenarios #sungchan imagines #sungchan scenarios #nct x you #sungchan x you #nct sungchan #jung sungchan #nct oneshot #sungchan oneshot #nct fanfic #sungchan fanfic #moonwrites

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bothcreativitybois · 3 years

Text

The Mayors Sweet Treat Chapter 5

Wordcount: 2430

Ship: Intruality

TWs: Food, dog, swearing, sexual references, spicy thoughts (not smutty)

Chapters: 1 2 3 4

Taglist: @crazydemigod666 @star-crossed-shipper @idont-freaking-know @someoneiwasnt @seraphiie @the-sympathetic-villain @cute-and-angsty-princess @lonelymuffin @bloodymari-0666 @im-an-anxious-wreck @newtnotfound @fantasticallytired @obsessive-fallen-angel

“You’re good!” Patton shouted as Remus backed into the narrow driveway next to the bakery. His truck was filled with paints, tools, hardware supplies and a very happy looking dog. Janus stood by watching to make sure Remus didn’t hit anything. When The truck was backed in enough Remus killed the engine and jumped out, Patton rushed up to the tray of the truck and began petting the dog. Cain happily soaked up the love, Remus began hauling items out of the truck. “Who are you baby? You’re adorable!” Patton cooed, Remus smiled and Janus rolled his eyes.

“His name is Cain.” Remus said and grunted as he pulled out a metal tool box. “If you scratch his chin he’ll never leave you alone.”

“He also eats my food and doesn’t pay rent so I wouldn’t mind that.” Janus added. Cain jumped out of the truck and Patton knelt down to scratch his chin as instructed. Cain put up his head and closed his eyes.

“Oh you’re so cute! I love you!” Patton continued, Remus couldn’t stop watching him. The little dimples in his cheeks, how much love was in his eyes when he looked at Cain, Remus wondered what it would be like to have Patton look at him like that. His mind raced back to the thoughts he had a few days ago.

“Damn, you’re so cute.” Patton whispered as he bit his lip. Remus was on top of Patton and his hair perfectly fell around Patton’s face, creating a tunnel for just the two of them. Remus lent down and pressed his forehead against Patton’s, both men closing their eyes. Remus’ breath caught in his throat which caused him to let out a small noise. “I lo-.”

Remus was brought back with a pinch to his ribs.

“Ow, what the fuck?” Remus exclaimed as he swatted away Janus’ hand. These thoughts were getting out of hand. Yes they were fun but very distracting and uncontrollable.

“Roman told me to do it if you got distracted.” Janus shrugged and walked away with a crate of spray paints. Patton felt guilty for not doing anything, he joined Remus at the back of the truck.

“What can I do?” Patton asked. Remus looked around a moment, not sure how much Patton could carry.

“Uh, can you get that ladder for Janus?” Remus replied. “Only if you can.” Remus worried. Patton smiled smugly. He leant forward and dragged the ladder out, easily carrying it with one hand. He walked past Remus just as Janus walked back over.

“I carry ten kilo bags of flour two at a time.” Patton looked back and flashed a smile. “Don’t worry about me, honey.” Patton walked away and Remus followed half stammering some apologies.

Jan: Just talk to him ffs he looks incapable of hurting you

Virgil sat on the kitchen counter while Patton ran around grabbing ingredients, Janus and Remus were working in the other room. Virgil balanced a phone between his shoulder and ear, hold music played loudly from it.

“What are they saying?” Patton whispered. Virgil put up a finger as a signal to wait.

“That makes no sense, you would’ve known the location before taking the order. If it was too remote you shouldn’t have taken the order in the first place.” The voice began again but it wasn’t long before Virgil interrupted. “No, I understand but you should have contacted him, or at the least gave him an answer instead of bouncing him between numbers. Will we be getting a refund?” Virgil swung his legs off the table as the voice spoke more, Patton began dropping ingredients into a mixer. “That isn’t how it works, your contract said you’d deliver th-” Virgil was cut off by the voice followed with a disconnect sound. He threw down his phone and pressed his hands to his face. He took a deep breath and ran his hands through his hair.

“They don’t have my sign do they?” Patton asked sadly. Remus walked over to the kitchen entrance to listen in.

“No they have it, but they won’t deliver to such a remote location. It’s at a warehouse in the city. They’ll refund the delivery fee but you have to pick up the sign yourself.” Virgil explained. Patton put down the top of the mixer and clicked it on before turning to Virgil.

“How? My car is tiny!” Patton panicked, Remus quickly moved to him and put a hand on his shoulder as comfort.

“It’s alright.” Remus soothed. “I’ll go get it for you tomorrow.” Patton felt guilty. All these people were so quick to help him but he had nothing to give in return.

“No I need you for the picnic.” Patton reminded him. Remus had influence and in his own way always knew what he was doing, that made Patton feel comfortable. The confidence he exuded was…

“I’ll go get it now then.” Remus suggested. He took out some keys and spun them around his finger. “Virge, message me the address.” Remus liked long drives, they helped him think. And with everything that was happening, the thoughts he was having, he could use some time to think. Patton looked around, seeing who he would be left alone with. He didn’t have a problem with making friends usually but two people he’d just met?

“I can’t ask you to do that, Remus.” Patton said, hoping Remus would catch the hint. Unfortunately he didn’t.

“It’s all good, just watch Cain for me until I’m back. He doesn’t like long drives.” Remus informed as he walked out the door. The elderly cattle dog padded up to Patton and leant on his leg, his innocent puppy eyes were very different to his owner's devilish gleam. Patton wanted to scratch him but needed to check his batter.

Quite a few minutes of awkward silence went by. Patton tasted his batter and added some more tweaks, Janus used a thick lead pencil to sketch a drawing to paint over and Virgil did… something on his phone. Janus looked into the kitchen, Virgil looked awkwardly across at Patton. He sighed. Virgil wasn’t the biggest fan of new people and Patton clearly was caught off guard with Remus’ dramatic exit. Janus pulled out his phone and texted Virgil.

Virgie: hnnngg social anxiety

Jan: Just ask if he needs help!

“How much business can a sign company have?” Virgil complained, Patton laughed across the room. Finally the hold music halted and Patton heard a voice drone through the phone. “Hello, I am calling on behalf of Froggy And Doggy Bakery. We ordered a sign last year and it still hasn’t arrived.” Virgil said in a professional voice. The person on the other end typed some stuff then told him something. Patton put down the eggs he had in his hands and rushed in front of Virgil.

Virgil looked over at Janus who nodded gently in response, Virgil took a deep breath.

“Patton?” Virgil said across the room. Patton looked up from mixing some flavours through the batter. “Is there… can I help?” Virgil mumbled. Patton wasn’t surprised anymore, he began thinking maybe all the tall men in this town had an agenda to kill him with favours. He giggled and pointed to a few aprons on a hook.

“Grab one and come over here.” Patton smiled. Virgil walked to the hook and pulled off a pink apron, he tied it up and joined Patton at the mixer. Patton pulled out a toothpick and dipped it in the mixture before thrusting it to Virgil. “Try this.” Virgil took the stick and licked off the batter. The delicate and fluffy batter had a strong punch of lemon and vanilla. The flavours tingled the back of Virgil’s jaw.

“That’s nice but maybe a little… strong.” Virgil shared. Patton laughed and took back the toothpick to throw away.

“The flavour will dilute after baking, it has to be strong or you won’t taste it.” Patton clarified. He threw the toothpick into the sink and rummaged in a draw, pulling out some dainty white mini cupcake papers and a large patty cake tray. “Can you put one paper in each tray? I have to take out the meringues." Patton looked across the room to see Janus had abandoned the drawing and was in the kitchen entrance. Patton walked across to the oven and pulled out a tray of cute pastel pink meringues shaped like flat roses. Virgil began dropping the papers into the tray. The large tray probably had two dozen holes, each no bigger than an inch in diameter. Janus leant down to pet Cain while the others worked. Patton used a spatula to scrape off the sweet treats and place them in a plastic container. Janus watched Patton's hands, how smoothly he scraped off a meringue with one thrust and gently laid it on top of the others in the container. It looked effortless yet Janus was sure if he tried he'd snap at least half of them in two. Patton noticed Janus staring from the corner of his eye, he tried his best to stay calm and focus. Meringues were small and light, which means they're easy to crush. He was thankful he had Virgil to take care of the patty cake papers so he could focus and take his time. Patton placed the last meringue in the container and looked up in time to see Virgil place the last paper.

He’s really nice albeit a little dry and blunt.

"Thanks. I'll put in the batter to make sure they all have the right amount." Patton thanked. Virgil nodded and looked up at Janus, he smiled smugly.

“Wrist is tired, needed a break.” Janus opposed in a friendly tone. “Also couldn’t miss you wearing that cute pink apron.” Janus chuckled as he turned around his phone to show a picture of Virgil in the apron holding the small cake papers, Patton also stifled a laugh. Virgil took off the apron and hung it back up.

“Send that to anyone and I’ll add another 10 hours to your community service.” Virgil warned.

“Too late.” Janus smirked. “Officer Honeycutt loves seeing her recovered little delinquent.”

“Well we can’t all be teenagers graffitiing forever.” Virgil shot back. Patton looked up.

“Who is Officer Honeycutt?” Patton asked, both boys looked over like they had forgotten he was there.

“My mother.” Janus said as he put away his phone. “Don’t worry, she doesn’t give anyone trouble. Most she’ll do ya for is drunk and disorderly but you don’t seem that type.” Virgil and Janus laughed, but it felt friendly. Not like laughing at Patton but joking with him. He laughed too.

“And Virgil does?” Patton joked, both men laughed again and shared a look.

“You’d be surprised what he used to get up too.” Janus eluded. Virgil hit him in the shoulder and picked up his bag. Patton’s nerves had disappeared, he wasn’t sure when but they were gone.

“I’m going to get myself a coffee and take Cain out for a bathroom break.” Virgil announced before turning to point at Janus. “Play nice.” Janus smirked.

“How nice exactly?” Janus asked mischievously. Virgil gave him a serious stare, Janus put up his hands in surrender. “Alright!” He surrendered. Virgil left with Cain and suddenly Patton was alone with Janus. He had no problem with Janus but out of all the friends Patton had met he seemed the most critical. Or more accurately, most straightforward with his judgement. Patton began scooping batter into the papers with two metal spoons. Janus entered the kitchen and sat on a counter, closely watching. Patton was a man in chains, facing the judge and waiting for his sentence. Remus’ voice echoed through his head.

Patton tried his best to focus. Everything would be fine.

“What makes you think Remus is so sexy?” Janus said suddenly and plainly. Patton dropped the spoons in shock and batter splattered over a few of the papers. His face burned a furious red. Patton looked back at Janus who was unfazed. “Is it his moustache?”

“Shouldn’t you be drawing?” Virgil teased as Patton gathered more items.

“That- I don’t-” Patton tried as he shakily recovered the spoons. His head raced. He didn’t think of Remus like that… did he? Even if he did he was too busy to make a move. And with everything that happened with his last partner he wasn’t sure if he was ready to move on. He attempted to gather all his thoughts into a sentence. “I don’t have time to think of Remus like that and he doesn’t think of me that way either so what’s the point?” He hoped that answer was good enough. He cleared his mind and went back to scooping batter.

“Funny, most people don’t answer when I ask them stuff like that.” Janus remarked. “They usually tell me not to ask stuff like that or refuse to answer.” Janus laughed slightly.

“I’m sure you mean well.” Patton answered. “Maybe you’re trying to protect Remus, maybe you’re trying to get to know my taste, or maybe you’re just curious. But I don’t think you’re asking for malicious intent.” Patton turned around and gave Janus a reassuring smile, he looked away.

“And how do you know that?” Janus pressed. Patton put down the spoons and picked up the tray of batter.

“You don’t seem that type.” Patton repeated with a wink. He adjusted the heat on the oven and slid in the tray all the while Janus watched him in thought.

“What if you did have the time?” Janus asked abruptly. “To think of Remus.” Patton took a moment. He brought up thoughts of Remus, thoughts where he wasn’t worried about the bakery or his mother. He smiled as he ran the scenarios through his head.

“Yeah, maybe something could happen.” Patton admitted. “But like I said, I’m pretty sure Remus doesn’t think of me that way.” He didn’t even know if Remus was into guys. He’d made the mistake of assuming that before, it didn’t turn out well.

“Interesting.” Janus muttered as he walked back to the wall he was sketching on. “Remus isn’t easy to deal with sometimes. He’s loud, will do his best to annoy you and is unpredictable. But he seems to have taken a liking to you, so here’s a little advice: set up your boundaries or he’ll tear right through you.” Janus’ advice seemed bittersweet but it did get Patton thinking.

Remus seemed gentle with him so far, was that good or bad?

#the mayor's sweet treat #sanders sides small town au #roman took over #intruality au #sanders sides #sanders sides au #sanders sides fic #sanders sides fanfiction #ts remus #remus sanders #ts patton #patton sanders #ts janus #janus sanders #ts virgil #virgil sanders #food tw #dog tw #intruality

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cotncandyboifics · 3 years

Text

Why'd You Only Call Me When You're High?

AO3 Link

My Main Masterpost

Pairing(s): Romantic Dukexiety

Word count: 6.9k (Remus would be proud)

Story summary: A pseudo-songfic; 5 times Remus called Virgil high, and one time Virgil called Remus high.

Content Warning: Marijuana, Characters high on Marijuana, Description of the experience of being high on marijuana, Food, descriptions of eating, descriptions of preparing food, vague anxiety descriptions, insomnia, cursing, Remus Being Remus,(let me know if i missed anything please!)

Author notes: this is just. dorky fluff stuff. Idek lol. Enjoy

...

Virgil grimaced vaguely at his phone, which had begun to buzz periodically. More specifically; Virgil was glaring at the displayed name at the top of the screen, communicating who was currently calling him.

TrashMan 42069 is calling...

Remus never called Virgil. As in... never never. And even if he did, it was 7 am; Virgil sincerely doubted that Remus I-wake-up-at-2-pm-every-day Prince had ever been awake at this time of morning in his life.

The call didn't stop after 5 buzzes, and so Virgil picked his phone up, hurriedly accepting the call and pressing the phone to his face.

"uuum, hiiii...." Remus drawled from the other end of the line. Virgil scoffed under his breath. "I'll have a.... extra large cheese pizza, and another extra large with... extra anchovies...." Remus continued. Virgil genuinely couldn't tell whether Remus thought he was actually talking to a Pizza parlor employee or not, but more pertinently, he was very much disconcerted by the way Remus was acting. He had half a mind to ask if he'd hit his head on something, but... Virgil was gradually growing used to Remus' antics, and every time he'd asked out of his own anxieties in the past, Remus had been More Than Fine. He pushed his nerviness aside with a heavy sigh.

"Re, what are you doing?" his voice came out a bit husky, and Virgil realized this was the first time he'd spoken that day.

Remus didn't reply for a few long moments. Of course, this had exactly nothing to do with the fact that he was having a gay panic over the sound of Virgil's morning voice, which - again - was decidedly not happening.

"Haay Virge," Remus scarcely strung his words together, and they fell on top of each other as they rolled off his tongue in a quite klutzy fashion. It was almost soothing, in its way. "I thought if I pretended that you... that I was... that I thought you were a pizza man, then I'd forget to do... why I called you." Remus scrunched his nose to himself, taking his time to find his words, but eventually he got there. Virgil had been struck with realization part way through Remus' rambling, and was now scowling as if Remus could hear his facial expression through the phone.

"Remus, are you seriously high right now?" Virgil hissed.

"I mean... I think so... I definitely remember..." he pointedly enunciated each syllable of 'definitely remember,' before seemingly getting distracted by his thoughts. Virgil cleared his throat to prompt him. "...uhhhh... I don't wanna call you. Why did I... think that was...good." Virgil couldn't tell if Remus was talking to himself or not.

"Dude, go take a shower and... like, drink some water or something. I'll see you at work later. Please come in a better mental state than you're in now." Virgil hung up, setting his phone back down on his desk face-down, resuming his script read-through of the next production being put on at the theater he worked for.

Several hours later, Virgil was adjusting a few bolts on a light fixture, one of many all lined up on the long bar that he'd lowered from the fly deck earlier. He and Remus were stage technicians, and had both worked at this theater together for nearly two years now.

Remus burst through the set of doors off stage left, arms wide and his custom green tool belt slung over one shoulder like a sash. He bowed a bit dramatically to the stage and everyone on it (which, at the moment, was only Virgil; they were the only two in the theater, since Virgil regularly showed up early and Remus was here early too for once for... some reason) before stepping in long strides toward a burnt out light fixture, a few feet away from Virgil.

"You good?" Virgil murmured, feigning intense focus on a particular few wires. Remus had learned by now that Virgil was a man of few words and many thoughts; there was always a lot more to what he was saying than the small string of words he poured out.

"Heh. Sorry about that. I woke up in a funk, and though a wake and bake might... help. Didn't anticipate calling... you, though." he rubbed the back of his neck a bit sheepishly, focusing his line of sight on the company logo branded into the lighting fixture. "Can't say it won't happen again though! If I call you when I'm that stoned it means I really, really like you," Remus waggled his eyebrows, winking (specifically to highlight his sarcasm - a wink was a telltale sign that Remus' words were entirely a joke) at an utterly deadpan Virgil.

"Sure." Virgil paused for a moment. "Why're you here so early though?"

"Huh?" Remus replied, finishing twisting the bulb out of the fixture before looking up at Virgil, who was now presenting his phone screen to Remus, showing him the time. "Damn! High me can get punctuality! I thought it was three, not two... I was wondering why you were the only one here!" Remus had resumed his adjusting of the light fixture, hunkered over and partially upside down in a way that made Virgil's stomach churn. He only grunted in reply.

...

A recent sound design project had Virgil and Remus talking a lot more than usual - nearly every day. Virgil thought Remus would be a massive pain in the ass to work with, but he was a surprisingly diligent project partner. His ideas were often... eccentric, and at times too far-fetched, but they served as an excellent foundation. They clashed well with Virgil's taste and general groundedness (by extension, a minuscule helping of insecurity) that he brought to the table. They'd worked together over discord for the last few days, voice chatting and messaging through brainstorming sessions and developing their project.

It was 5pm, and Virgil was just beginning chopping some potatoes for a mash dinner when a message notification popped up on his phone.

TrashMan 42069 im tiiiired. gotta get up early to head into the theater, can we work tmrw mornin instead of tn ? wanna have an early night

Virgil smirked to himself, typing out a response.

since when do you sleep before 1am

but like, go off ig

see ya in the ams

Remus never responded, and Virgil resumed his chopping, and soon was plopping the potato portions into a pre-simmering pot.

Night arrived and fell entirely, leaving Virgil alone with his thoughts in bed, staring at the ceiling desperately as if it would put him to sleep. His bouts of insomnia made for horrible company, and yet another reminder of just how awfully lonely he truly was. He rolled onto his side, facing his bedside table just as his phone lit up and started buzzing.

Remus. Again. Odd. And it was... 11pm, according to the bleary text in the top corner of Virgil's phone screen. Not too bad, I might get to sleep by 2, Virgil noted to himself. He accepted the call before his drowsy brain could think through the decision.

"Shit, hi," Remus breathed. The usual sharp edge of his brash voice was gone, leaving soft, rolling words in its wake. Virgil sighed to himself.

"Hi."

"Did I awaken you from the sleep? I didn't think you'd answer..." Virgil recognized the drawl in Remus' voice then, but he didn't mind it so much. He was too tired to be grumpy about this.

"No, I couldn't sleep. I thought you were having an early night?" Virgil ran his fingers through his hair, rolling back onto his back.

"Ah... right... I told you that..." Remus spoke slowly, as if carrying each word, each syllable the way a mother carries her child. Virgil smiled softly into the darkness. "I was feeling like shit, so... I was just gonna, toke up. Knew I... wouldn't be able to... do any of the project... like this."

"Gotcha," Virgil mumbled. He had closed his eyes, letting himself ease into the sound of Remus' uncharacteristically gentle voice.

Remus started humming on the other end of the line, and that only proved to relax Virgil more. He felt himself grow heavy in the bed, limbs going slack and muscles and tendons untensing.

"Are you still alive?" Remus spoke suddenly. Virgil hummed.

"Yeah, I think so," Virgil said. "Your humming is putting me to sleep," he laughed lightly. Remus grew silent. "Uh, that's not a bad thing," Virgil resolved, "I have a hard time... sleeping, sometimes. Nothing usually helps. That's... uh, helping. If you wanna keep... humming, or talking..." As he spoke, Virgil realized just how weird what he was saying - what he was asking for - truly was. He cleared his throat. "Nevermind."

"I have nothing better to do right now, I can hum you to sleep, Virge," Remus' careful voice replied, ever so slowly. "If that's... what... you meant."

"Um," Virgil chewed on his hoodie sleeve absent-mindedly. "Yeah," he finally huffed, "I'd... like that."

Virgil anticipated a lot more awkwardness at this entire situation from Remus. But Remus was a generally oblivious person to awkwardness, seemingly especially so when he was stoned. He almost immediately resumed his humming, and Virgil was out like a light less than ten minutes later.

"Virgie? Did you go... fall into the sleep?" Remus asked after a while. When he was met with silence other than subtle, even breaths, he smiled to himself. He'd helped someone, even while he was like this. He truly didn't want to be doing anything else right now, so he just kept humming into the phone for a while. Maybe it'll help Virgil sleep even better.

The thoughts that an intoxicated mind produces truly are an enigma.

...

Remus and Virgil's sound design project was one of three being proposed to the directors and head technicians for the next production. The three were created as presentations, just the general idea of the design put together so that the one chosen of the three could be put into proper production by the entire sound team.

Virgil's and Remus' won.

They celebrated by indulging in a pizza lunch together before they were to head into work. A large, half pepperoni and half anchovies.

"Are those things actually good, or do you just eat them because everyone else thinks they're gross?" Virgil asked, chasing the floppy end of his next slice with his mouth. Remus grinned with a glint in his eye that Virgil knew all too well; it meant one thing, and one thing only. Mischief.

"Whah if ih's bof?" Remus spoke through his mouthful of anchovy pizza. Virgil scrunched his nose, punching Remus in the shoulder.

"Chew your food and don't talk with your mouth full, that's hecka nasty dude," Virgil laughed. Remus rolled his eyes in a very unconvincing manner, considering he was still smiling.

"Yef, mom," Remus spoke again through his unfinished mouthful. Virgil shoulder bumped him, and finally took the first bite of his next slice.

Not a week later, Virgil woke up rather late. Well, late for him; around 7am. He slapped a hand to his forehead, sitting up a little too fast. He set his hands on the bed beside himself to try and fight the onset of dizziness. After a few deep breaths and shaking his head and hair out, he reached for his phone.

No notifications, other than 2 missed calls from Remus, at 3:12am. Virgil sighed, laughing to himself slightly. He opened his messaging app.

why do u only call me when ur high lmao

...

Virgil was at the grocery store, milling through the dairy aisle, when his phone started buzzing in his pocket. He was surprised to see Remus' contact as the displayed caller ID, although not that surprised. Remus had called Virgil a few times while he wasn't high since Virgil had sent that message, usually to discuss theater-related things. Though, it wasn't like him to call at 8 in the morning. Virgil pressed the answer button, bringing the phone to his ear.

"Hey Re, what's up?" Virgil said as he started checking the expiration dates on a few cartons of heavy whipping cream.

"Virgieee... Are you walking around with no shoes on?" Remus' voice was calm and subdued.

"Uh-" Virgil was so caught off guard by the question -and the petname- that he literally looked down at his feet to check. Nope, he'd definitely put on his black high tops that morning. "No? I'm at the grocery store. Wh... what?"

"I saw someone," Remus blurted, speaking slowly. Oh, right. Virgil's lips tightened into a annoyed-and-disappointed expression. Of course he's just baked again. "They looked like you, kinda... no purple hair... but jacket- or, i mean, sweater... uhhhm, no... what's it called?"

"My hoodie?" Virgil offered, glancing down at his purple patchwork hoodie.

"Yeah, yeah, that," Remus drew in a long heavy breath. "they had a hoodie." Remus stopped then, as if awaiting Virgil's explanation expectantly. Virgil scoffed.

"So. You saw someone walking around with no shoes on, who looked kind of like me only based on the fact that they were wearing a hoodie?" Virgil recited.

"Well, yeah!" Remus said as if offended that Virgil needed to ask. "They were black shoes, and... and the hoodie was... just like your black plaid one."

"The one that I like... never wear? How do you even... have you even seen me wear that?" Virgil didn't know why he was asking; he must have if he knew of it.

"You did," Remus started slowly, "one time. The pizza time. Said your other one was dirty." Remus spoke like a small child who was being scolded and felt really bad for what they'd done. "And I thought... maybe you'd... dyed your hair back. I don't know why." Virgil sighed.

"Okay? Well, I promise I have my shoes on, and my hair is still purple, and I'm not wearing that hoodie today. I'm at the grocery store right now." Virgil's voice was harsh and quick, and he immediately felt guilt drop into his stomach like a brick. He had no real reason to be this cross with Remus... he was just a bit cranky that morning. "Can I... pick you up anything while I'm here?" Virgil immediately cringed at his attempt at amendment. What a weird thing to say-

"Ooh! Are you at Trader Joe's?" Remus' voice had a newfound excitement. Virgil smiled to himself, glad that his fumbled recovery wasn't really very fumbled, thanks to Remus'... Remus-y-ness. "They have these chocolate truffles that are soooo good..."

Remus gave moderately incoherent directions to where the truffles were shelved, though Virgil knew his way around the store enough that it didn't matter. After a few minutes, he came upon a small red carboard box with cursive gold lettering and a picture of a chocolate truffle on the front.

"Found them. I... text me your address? I can be over in... well, soon. I guess I don't know where you live." Virgil invited himself over extremely awkwardly.

"You got it, sunshine! See you soon," Remus' tone was a lot lighter and he spoke more quickly and sharply, as he did when he wasn't stoned out of his mind. Perhaps the prospect of having his favorite chocolate truffles had granted him some mental clarity.

The call ended, and moments later, two texts came through from Remus. The first was an address, as promised. The second left Virgil with a familiar sense of blind confusion.

ill start heating the milk

Virgil slid his phone back into his pocket, humming to himself. He'd gotten all the items on his grocery list already, so he headed to checkout. Soon after, he was loading a couple bags into the back seat of his car, setting the two boxes of truffles for Remus on the passenger seat as he strapped in.

The drive was surprisingly short to Remus'; less than ten minutes. He triple checked the address when he pulled up to a three story Victorian house, three doors lined up at the top of a set of marble steps.

He took a breath or two, staring down at the boxes of truffles in his hands and reassessing his situation. You're standing in front of Remus' house like a massive dork because you felt bad for getting annoyed at him on the phone. You decided completely on a whim to bring him some chocolate - of all things, but at least he's the one who specifically asked for it - and show up to his house???? his house. Yeah, this totally isn't weird at all.

Virgil took the steps two at a time, ringing the doorbell at the door farthest to the right. He heard the chime from inside, followed shortly by a shrill screech. A few moments later, there was stomping sounds, and Remus came into view through the window on the door, trampling down the stairs like an eight year old rushing to an ice cream truck. He made it to the door, unlocking it and flinging it open.

"VIRGIE!" Remus yelped, looking ready to bear hug Virgil, but was quickly distracted into marveling over the boxes of truffles Virgil was clinging to his chest. "You bought two!? Gods, this is better than Christmas! Get in here," Remus stepped behind the door, allowing Virgil to step inside.

"Did you... screech, a minute ago?" Virgil asked, looking around. He and Remus were standing in what served as a tiny, tiny foyer, a small rectangle of flooring that gave direct way to a rather large flight of wooden stairs. Virgil could see a shoe cubby and coat rack at the top of the steps, and started stepping up them cautiously as Remus closed the door behind him.

"Yeah. People usually can't hear if I say words, like 'COMING!', so I just kinda... scream. It works!" Remus was tromping up the steps a few stairs below him, and Virgil quickened his pace.

"Got it..."

Virgil slipped his shoes off at the top, stuffing them in the cubby. "See? Shoes," he gestured to the shoes now fit snug in one of the cubbies. Remus smiled a bit too wide, nodding his head harshly. "I also don't have that hoodie on today," Virgil spread his arms, displaying his usual patchwork hoodie.

"I'm mainly glad your hair is still purple. It looks h- I mean, I like it." Remus coughed slightly to himself before stepping around Virgil, starting to sock-slide down the hardwood floor hall. "Kitchen's through here! The milk should be ready!"

Virgil laughed to himself, stepping into the hall to follow Remus' trail. He came upon a slightly ajar door, and seeing a glimpse of a stovetop, he slid into the room.

"I also made some whipped cream!" Remus gestured behind himself at a bowl of whipped cream on the counter as he stirred at a simmering pot of milk.

"What's... what's it for?" Virgil asked slowly, feeling like he missed something entirely.

"Oh! Right," Remus seemed to realize he hadn't filled Virgil in. "The truffles are so frickin good by themselves, but I discovered - sort of by accident, don't worry about it - that they make the best hot chocolate. And I... well, I figured we could have some!" Remus spun around at the last part, saucer of milk in hand and smiling a bit maniacally at Virgil. He stepped over to the counter where there were two mugs beside the bowl of whipped cream. "Bring them things on over here. This show can't go on without the starring role."

Virgil shuffled over to Remus, setting the truffles down beside the whipped cream bowls. He felt the need to speak, but couldn't think of any suitable words.

"one or two? I usually do two, I like mine real rich," Remus said, tearing open one of the boxes of truffles.

"Two," Virgil coughed. Remus smiled brightly at him again.

Virgil observed Remus' process. He plopped two truffles into the bottom of each mug - in the process, popping one into his mouth and offering another to Virgil, who accepted - before pouring the steaming milk over them, nearly to the brim of both mugs. Virgil hadn't expected the truffles to float, but there were two bobbing brown balls rolling around on the surface of the steaming milk in each mug. Remus retrieved a small spoon, stirring gingerly as the truffles rapidly shrunk and dissipated into the darkening milk.

"Will you grab the chocolate syrup? It's in the door of the fridge," Remus commented, beginning to spoon whipped cream onto the surface of the hot chocolate. "Oh, and- nevermind, I got it." Remus reached into a drawer beside him, pulling out a small cheese grater.

Virgil returned with the chocolate syrup, setting it beside Remus' arm.

"Check this out," Remus said, pulling another truffle from the box. He started grating it over the whipped cream dollops, and it gently snowed chocolate shavings. "Isn't it pretty?" Remus glanced at Virgil as he switched mugs.

"Yeah," Virgil breathed, watching the little flakes fall and settle on the surface of the whipped cream.

Virgil felt himself becoming infinitely more relaxed and less anxious the longer he basked in Remus' presence. It had always been this way with him, although maybe it was slightly amplified now that they were alone. He leaned himself on Remus, chin on his shoulder. Remus didn't react, other than softening his movements significantly, as though he were afraid he'd scare Virgil away.

"Yes, yes, yes! Man, this is the good stuff!" Remus exclaimed as he squirted a trail of chocolate syrup over the flakey rain on the whipped cream mountains. Virgil chuckled, reaching for the mug nearest him. "Hey! Not yet!" Remus batted his hand away lightly.

"What else could you possibly want on hot chocolate? Come on, it's getting cold," Virgil whined. Remus only smirked.

"Pantry, top shelf, you'll know it when you see it," He spoke, glancing at the cupboard door a few paces away. Virgil stepped toward the pantry cautiously, opening the door slowly. There, presented proudly on the top shelf, was a bag of mini marshmallows.

"Oh fuck yeah," Virgil reached up, realizing he was far too short to reach the bag. "Uh, one sec," he said, stepping entirely into the pantry, reaching up with all his might. Even stretching as far as he could, he barely reached the base of the top shelf. Remus chuckled from over by the mugs.

"Here, let me help." Remus came up behind him, making to reach over Virgil's head just as Virgil tried to step out of the pantry and out of Remus' way. Virgil essentially walked right into Remus' chest, face to face with his stubbled Adam's apple as he reached for the mallows easily.

Virgil was frozen in place, feeling his face grow hot. Remus looked down at him, suddenly realizing their physical predicament.

"Shit! Sorry!" Remus stepped back, mallows in hand, giving Virgil more than enough room to step out.

"s'fine, don't worry," Virgil mumbled, cheeks red and staring wide-eyed at the floor. Remus laughed a bit nervously, stepping back over to the mugs and beckoning for Virgil to follow.

Once their mugs were properly marshmallow'd (although not s'more'd; neither wanted to go full Ned Flanders on this rainy Saturday afternoon) Remus led Virgil out of the kitchen and further down the hall, to the door at the end which opened up into Remus' bedroom.

Virgil didn't know what he was expecting Remus' personal living space to look like, but whatever it was it wasn't this. There was a very cozy-looking bed that took up most of the floorspace, and a very soft patterned rug at the foot. Against the far wall, beside a wide windowsill, sat an equally cozy-looking loveseat. There were blankets and pillows absolutely everywhere, crowding the loveseat, covering the bed and turning the windowsill into a cozy sitting nook. There was no other furniture, aside from a rustic-looking wooden bedside table that matched a small, overstuffed bookshelf. The walls were entirely covered from floor to ceiling with posters, art pieces, the like; but more than anything, sketches. Scores upon scores of sketches covered every wall, pinned up with colorful tacks and a certain few of them connected to others with small segments of colored string. As well, strung up on some of the hardier tacks were a few strings of fairy lights. Those, plus the salt lamp set on the bedside table made for some extremely lovely mood lighting.

"Woah," was all Virgil could say as he looked around in wonder.

"This is where the magic happens," Remus shoulder shimmied, sidling around Virgil to sit cross-legged on his bed, beginning to nurse his cocoa as he set down the boxes of truffles. Apparently they were far too precious to keep in the kitchen, where Remus' brother could very well steal them.

"Yeah..." Virgil stepped up to a particularly large sketch, one whose tack was connected with string to several others. Something occurred to him. "Are these..." He gestured vaguely at the walls, "are these all yours?"

"All the sketches, yeah," Remus breathed, hiding behind his mug as he took a large sip. He watched Virgil over the brim as the man stared in complete awe.

"That's..." Virgil couldn't think of the right words, and so drew a large sip of his own cocoa. Remus was right, the truffles made for an incredible hot chocolate. He sighed slightly, smiling to himself.

Remus finished his cocoa, tilting his head back to slurp at the residue and remaining whipped cream as he leaned back on his bed slightly. Virgil smirked behind his own mug, licking at his whipped cream.

Remus set his mug beside the salt lamp on his bedside table, beckoning for Virgil to sit with him on the bed. Virgil did, cross-legged an leaning against a pillow that was propped against the wall. He glanced to the windowsill nook.

"You got something of a view," He murmured, craning his neck slightly to see out the window. Remus giggled.

"Yeah! That's where I saw mx. no-shoes earlier." He smiled at Virgil giddily.

"Oh, I see." Virgil smiled back. "Well, I'm here now, purple hair and truffles in the complete package," he spread his arms slightly, and Remus' smile turned into a full grin. He retrieved a truffle from the open box and popped it into his mouth, then throwing a second one at Virgil. It hit him in the chest, and he picked it up, starting to gnaw at it. "You were right, these are super fricking good," Virgil mentioned, taking another large gulp of his cocoa.

"I know right!? Where have you been all my life, beloved truffles," he picked up the unopened box and held it high in one hand, beginning to serenade it. Virgil laughed at him, slapping him on the arm.

"You're a massive dork."

Remus' eyes glinted. "Well I-" He stopped short, the glint disappearing as soon as it returned. Virgil watched his face. No, no dick jokes right now. He gulped and cleared his throat, retracting his arm and pulling out another two truffles from the other box. He held one of them out to Virgil on the palm of his hand. Virgil took it carefully, holding it between his fingers as he took the final sip of his own cocoa.

"Here," Remus reached his empty hand out to take Virgil's mug, setting it beside his own behind them on the bedside table. Remus resumed chewing his truffle, watching the comforter shift with his weight as he leaned back and forth slightly.

"Can I?" Virgil pointed to a few more sketches over the head of the bed. Remus nodded. Virgil got up onto his knees, nearly pressing his chest into the wall as he looked at the many sketches.

Remus got up onto his knees too, sort of knee-waddling over to Virgil's side. Virgil's eyes continued scanning the sketches before they fell onto a particularly familiar looking one. His breath caught in his chest. He reached up to it, tracing the familiar purple plaid of his very own patchwork hoodie. Remus cleared his throat from beside him.

They both spoke at the same time.

"Um, you should probably know that-"

"Remus, I wanted to tell you-"

Virgil turned to look at Remus then, and belatedly realized just how close together they were. Remus' lips were pursed, and Virgil could see that he was chewing at the inside corner of his mouth.

Virgil drew in a breath to speak as Remus moved slightly closer. Pursing his lips shut, he changed his mind, deciding to take a risk.

He surged forward suddenly, shutting his eyes. Remus met him in the middle, and just like that, they were kissing.

It was soft and still at first, lips pressed firmly into each other's. Remus reached one hand up, gently cupping Virgil's cheek.

Virgil pulled back suddenly, but Remus' hand didn't leave his cheek. "I-I'm sorry, I really should've- asked- I meant to say things, i mean, before-" He stopped as Remus set his other hand on Virgil's waist. His face looked incredibly soft and gentle, lips parted slightly as he looked at Virgil like he'd hung the moon.

Virgil intertwined his fingers on the back of Remus' neck, and Remus pulled Virgil back into the kiss.

...

two days later, Virgil was up late again, unable to push himself into unconsciousness. His body was restless even if his mind was exhausted - or perhaps it was the other way around, his mind restless and his body exhausted? He really couldn't tell.

It was nearing 3am, and he was sitting curled in on himself, hugging his knees as he watched the stars out his window. His phone, face-down on the bed beside him, began buzzing.

He tilted his head, sighing as he fought an oncoming wave of exhaustion. He picked up the phone, flipping it to see the caller ID, although part of him hoped knew who it would be.

He pressed the answer button, bringing the phone to his ear.

"Hey, Remus."

He heard Remus gasp on the other end of the line, before murmuring a small "hi."

"I... are you not sleeping good tonight?" Remus' curious and confounded expression was almost palpable through the phone. Virgil smiled lazily, recognizing Remus' demeanor immediately.

"No, I'm not, but that's okay. The stars are pretty tonight." Virgil paused, scratching at his chin a bit. "Are you stoned again?"

A long pause. "Yeah," Remus blurted. "Sorry I... I nodded, but then, I realized... you can't see me."

Virgil smiled to himself again. "It's okay."

A long, comfortable silence followed. Virgil was too tired to feel the obligatory need to make conversation, especially with Remus. He'd be a fool to expect any awkwardness after a make out session with the spontaneous blob that is Remus, but he'd still been nervous to see or speak with him again. That all melted away now though, exhaustion and vague contentment taking its place.

"Virgie - uh, Virgil?" Remus piped up after a while, rousing Virgil from his trance.

"Yeah?"

"Do you, remember..." Remus trailed off, and didn't speak for long enough that Virgil almost responded to prompt him. "Did you come to my house, and also, kiss me, or was that a dream?" Even through his stoned lilt, Remus spoke a bit quickly, like he was trying to shove the words out of his mouth before he could change his mind.

Virgil chuckled. "That wasn't a dream, Remus. Yes, I remember." I don't think I could forget it if i wanted to tried.

"Oh." Virgil could hear the smile in Remus' voice. "Can we- I mean, do you want to, uh, do it again? Some time?" he didn't sound hesitant, no; just hopeful, and perhaps as though he felt like he needed to be excessively gentle. It was the sweetest tone Virgil had ever heard.

"I'd like that," Virgil smiled.

Remus sigh-laughed on the other end of the line, and Virgil's smile grew. "Cool," Remus said almost under his breath.

Virgil didn't do it consciously, but a big, loud yawn decided to worm its way out of him at that moment.

"Are you sleepy Virgie?" Remus asked in a strange partial baby voice. Virgil snorted at him.

"I'm literally always tired, so if the answer was no, that would be more concerning," Virgil quipped, but his voice sounded spent. Remus giggled a little.

"Can I hum to you?" Remus asked, smile still discernable in his tone. Virgil felt something warm spark in his chest, like a lighter being flicked and lit.

"I'd like that a lot, too," Virgil murmured, curling up beneath his covers as Remus started to hum.

He was out like a light in less than 5 minutes.

And if Remus stayed on the line for another half hour or so, humming to him and listening to his even breaths, who was to know?

...

Virgil felt like an idiot.

That wasn't an entirely rare feeling to him, but this particular time was different.

Despite his general edginess and rebel-against-society vibe, Virgil had never touched a drop of alcohol or gone near any intoxicating substance in his life. Until today.

He'd been Remus' boyfriend for almost three months now, and it was everything he could have hoped; haphazard night trips to convenience stores that ended in oddly romantic motorcycle rides, the odd gestures Remus's... eccentric mind came up with, and Virgil was in dire need of more hoodies he could let Remus steal. All this, but Virgil was still Virgil. He still had his anxiety disorder, he still dealt with insomnia. Though, sleeping in Remus' arms was proving an impressively effective remedy to the latter.

So, when Remus suggested Virgil look into the medical benefits of marijuana in regards to both anxiety and insomnia, Virgil was... intrigued, to say the least.

He did find a lot of supporting evidence through his research, and... well, he thought, what the hell, right? If Remus smokes it pretty much every day, and if this many articles are claiming its reliability... what harm would it do to try?

So here he was, sitting on his couch, having taken a couple of edibles, waiting for the high to hit him. His hand ghosted over his jean pocket, assuring himself that his phone was there in case he needed to call 911 or something. He was trying to do breathing exercises to maintain some sort of calm, but sitting still wasn't his strong suit.

He'd chosen edibles since he didn't want to have to deal with the whole... smoke and coughing side of things. And he really didn't like the sound of vaping. He figured this would be fine as an introductory experience, but he realized that he had no clue when the edibles would kick in.

He pulled out his phone, typing into google.

Marijuana edibles generally take 30 minutes to an hour to induce any psychological effects on the consumer.

Oh.

Well, he figured, there was no way he could sit still for that long.

He stood, deciding he'd make himself some dinner. Something to busy his hands with, and the leftovers he'd planned on heating up would last another day or two anyways.

He settled on some fettuccine alfredo, fairly simple but one of his childhood favorites. He had a feeling he'd appreciate the comfort food while he was... in an altered state of mind.

Virgil, however, hadn't accounted for the fact that he had an almost unnaturally high metabolism, and before he'd even gotten the pasta in the boiling water, things started to get a little funky.

The first thing Virgil noticed, before he'd even registered that the edibles were kicking in, was how he could hear his thoughts. Not literally, but it felt as though his stream-of-consciousness thoughts were more slow and clear to him, as though he was speaking directly to himself.

As he thought this, his vision suddenly came into alarming focus, and felt oddly like an unstable skyscraper. He stared down at his feet, and they seemed so far away, the floor looked far too far away... He gripped the counter nearest to him, trying to steady himself even if he wasn't actually falling. He didn't feel like he had any control over his center of balance, and even if he was mostly stock-still as a pencil, he thought he might fall down at any moment, down the many stories of building beneath him. But there was no stories beneath him... it was only his legs, which he didn't remember being so long. He stared a little harder at his feet. They weren't abnormally far away, were they?

Virgil vaguely registered the sound of over-boiling water as the realization hit him.

Oh. So this is what it's like.

He turned so that his lower back was stable against the counter, sliding slowly down onto his butt. Standing didn't feel safe right now, even if that made no sense.

He didn't really like this. He felt so isolated, so alone in this moment. He was too out of it to focus hard enough on those thoughts for them to really take root, but he was generally aware of them. So, he did the first thing he could think to do.

He pulled his phone very slowly and carefully out of his pocket, as if he thought it was a brittle sugar cookie. He stared at the dark screen for a solid minute, wondering why it wasn't turning on. Then he realized he had to actually touch the screen for that to happen, and so he did.

From there, it was relatively easy; he unlocked his phone, found the calling app, scrolled around a little haphazardly up and down the contact list before finding Remus' contact.

If anyone could help him feel less alone, if anyone knew what he was experiencing... it would be him.

He took a deep breath and held it as he pressed the call button, bringing the phone to his face as it rang.

It only rang twice before Remus answered. "Hello, Jack Skellington! What can I do for you this evening?" Remus' voice sounded a little extra mischievous, and Virgil couldn't even begin to place why.

He was quiet for a little too long, vaguely trying to decide what to say. "Hi." Not the most eloquent, but it worked for a start.

"Hi," Remus replied, the troublemaking lilt of his voice dissipating slightly. "Is everything okay, Surly Temple?"

Virgil giggled a bit. Your brother is funny. You keep stealing his nicknames for me. "I'm, yeah. Sorry, talking. it's hard. Right now." Virgil spoke haltingly, each word firm but isolated from the last.

"Hmmm..." Remus stroked his mustache from the other end of the line. Virgil giggled again, realizing he couldn't actually see Remus stroking his mustache, but could imagine it vividly all the same. There was no doubt in his mind that he was doing exactly that.

"Oh, 'm high," Virgil added quite belatedly.

"Oh! Well that makes a lot more sense!" Remus laughed, but quickly composed himself again. "What are you doing? Are you feeling okay? Is this your first time? What's happening?"

"Skyscraper," Virgil replied matter-of-factly, as if that cleared the air entirely.

"...right..." Remus replied slowly. "Stormcloud, is it okay if I come over? I don't... I want you to be- uh, to feel safe right now."

"Yes, please," Virgil clung to the phone like it was Remus' arm. "I miss you I'm kinda scared," his words slurred together, but at least he managed to say something slightly coherent. Remus grunted in acknowledgement.

"Okay. I'll be there in ten. Want me to stay on the line?" Virgil could hear shuffling around in the background.

"What're you doin?" He asked suspiciously, narrowing his eyes at the refrigerator door, since he couldn't actually look at Remus.

"Putting on my shoes, silly! What room are you in right now?" Remus replied, a sense of protectiveness twinged in his voice.

"Kitchen. floor." Virgil swirled his fingers on the wooden floor.

"Okay. Do you want me to stay- oh, fuck it. I'm staying on the line till I get there, okay Virgie?" Virgil heard the sound of a door slamming, followed by vague trafficky noises.

"You're coming," Virgil spoke, registering it in his mind finally.

"Yeah, I'm coming," Remus repeated, and the sound of Remus' car starting sounded shortly after.

Virgil smiled at nothing. "I love you."

The words were a bit slurred together, but he heard them out of his own mouth loud and clear. He almost clapped a hand over his mouth, a little horrified that he'd just said that.

Sure, he'd known he loved Remus for a while now, but they hadn't said it before. He'd almost said it, once, earlier that week while he was laying in Remus' arms on a drowsy Sunday morning, watching the lines of his face shift and harden as he slowly woke up. But he didn't. And now he'd just gone and said it, while he was stoned out of his mind for the first time, sitting on his kitchen floor about to break into tears-

Remus' voice, a little bit strained, interrupted Virgil's thoughts.

"I love you too."

A pause. "I'm almost there, okay? Everything's gonna be fine."

Virgil snuggled down further into his hoodie.

"I know, cus you'll be here."

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #virgil sanders #remus sanders #dukexiety #sanders sides fanfiction #ts virgil #ts remus #human au #5 + 1 fic #5 + 1 things #songfic

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normal-thoughts-official · 3 years

Note

We need more MIND CONTROL ANGST in this fandom give me Alec hurts Magnus and for a split second Magnus is just shocked with this feeling of "alec... hit me?" And even tho he very quickly realizes something is wrong it just feels so wrong and painful and later when Alec is unwhammied hes so guilty he doesn't want to even touch Magnus but that's what Magnus needs most rn, touch and affection and reassurance and comfort, cue misunderstandings and more angst before the ultimate happy ending :)

again, ur mind........ the talent in this.... *girl in porn voice* it's so big

also this is tagged but just to make sure, trigger warning for mind control, abuse/child abuse mentions, self harm

ok maybe it starts like... they are together and alec has a headache or something as the control kicks in or something and he falls to the ground and magnus runs after him like what happened? and alec's like "something's wrong, magnus, stay away" but magnus is too worried so he doesnt listen and he touches alec and alec hits him

and for a second he thinks it's because he went too far and touched alec without consent and his mind is flashing with asmodeus and his words when he hit him, and memories and for a second he barely knows where he is and what is happening and who is who. and because this is happening slowly alec screams "something is controlling me!" because he knows soon he'll be like possessed completely and he wants to apologize but he knows it's more important to let magnus know what's happening first. and sure enough soon a Demonic Voice overtakes him and his alec is obviously gone

and it's quickly resolved because magnus is 1- smart, and 2- powerful, and clearly the spell whomstever was using on alec was not super strong lmao. maybe someone who was trying to get to magnus for some reason? so like, extra spice because magnus feels guilty - he knows all too well what it's like to be forced to do things you don't want to do, to see yourself as a monster, to have nightmares about being forced to hurt the people you love-

and alec of course is drowning drowning drowning in guilt as well because he hurt magnus, it's the one thing he remembers before losing control, he hurt magnus when he was supposed to protect him, and he knows magnus has history with abuse, and he could clearly see the way that magnus lost himself in a flashback for a second, he triggered him and he became the people he had always sworn he'd never be, that he'd help him forget, and he hurt magnus he hurt magnus he hurt magnus he hurt magnus

and he feels so stupid because he hadn't even realized something was wrong before it was too fucking late, and he had enough control to scream at him, but not to hold himself back? what kind of bullshit is that? he feels like a failure and he blames himself and he wants to scratch his own skin off, make himself bleed because he failed the one person he loved the most, again, and he doesn't deserve magnus if he can't help him

so basically like as soon as magnus manages to undo the spell and they are done Finding The Culprit and Resolving The Plot alec is just like. completely retracted in himself. already scratching his hands in a similar way to what he did when magnus was in the hospital, fists tight and hurting, and usually magnus would notice that, but all he sees is the rage burning within alec, that terrifying anger that he shows sometimes and after alec hurt him... it's scary

and because the person who did this was trying to get to him, he feels like that's his fault, too. he dragged alec into this mess and he was too much again, and he's nothing but a burden to the people he loves and he knows how alec feels like he needs to be in control of things, how if he doesn't he loses his footing, and losing control of his body is the most terrifying experience - magnus would know - and he brought this on alec and didn't even notice when he's the warlock, he should be able to have noticed the spell, he could have stopped this whole thing from happening but he didn't and things could have been so much worse, all because he wasn't paying attention as always, and god, he hurt someone he loved, didn't he? again. he's like an omen, bringing pain and death and hurt to everyone around him, he's cursed-

and alec pretty much leaves immediately with some bullshit excuse about needing something, and magnus tries to call for him, but alec is gone in an instant and ignores magnus. and magnus is just unleashing the spiral he had been keeping at bay and contained while he was figuring out the solution for this, and he just had a horrible flashback moment and the voice of his father is running free around his head, telling him everything about how he's not good enough, not powerful enough, how he'll never have anyone because he's a demon and this is what he was made to, to hurt, and he might try to pretend otherwise but in the end it will always come back to this; so he's in a bad mental state to not realize what he otherwise would immediately - alec is blaming himself, of course he is - and just sees that he's angry and leaves. and then he's alone with his thoughts screaming at him that he keeps bringing pain to the people he loves, that he's useless, evil even, that his father was right, that camille was right

and maybe he knows deep down that alec wouldn't blame him for this but he still can't help but think that eventually alec would grow tired of him and why not now? what does magnus even have to offer him, except for baggage and pain?

and he can't help but think, what if it happens again? what if that was just the first time and soon enough alec will become camille just like he always feared his next lover would? and then he feels guilty for even thinking that, because of course alec wouldn't, and this wasn't his fault, and magnus should be able to get over it instead of spiralling like that and acting like alec had done something wrong when he knows alec got the worst position in that situation

and alec is just shooting arrows all night, letting his hands bleed and hurt and also doing his best to train, because he needs to do better, he needs to be stronger and he can't keep letting this happen because last time it was irreversible. and he's thankful this time wasn't like that but this is unacceptable and god, he hurt magnus

he probably only comes back home the next day and magnus doesn't sleep at all that night because fuck, he fucked up. he didn't notice and he let this happen to alec and then he was a baby about it and mentally compared him to camille and basically blamed alec for all of that and alec didn't even come back home. maybe this time he's done forever, maybe alec's tired of him, maybe this will be the one thing they never manage to overcome, because alec will blame himself and magnus can't pull his shit back together to support him, and god alec will blame himself and god last time this happened magnus had to take him off the ledge, and alec promised he would tell him if things ever got that bad but how could alec even trust him right now, what if he's gone, magnus didn't even check up on him, he was too busy worrying about himself like some fucking asshole

and like he knows alec is alive because he can sense him with magic even if faintly but he still has that moment of panic and maybe alec isn't ok and he doesn't know but what right does magnus have to track him down right now? what good could he even do? it would be overbearing and unfair to go after him, alec obviously doesn't want his company right now

so when alec finally comes home the next day magnus is like "alexander" relieved and worried at the same time and he kind of runs to him but alec stays still so he pauses when he stops, hand even hovering mid-air, clearly hesitant and afraid to touch him and alec thinks, he's scared of me, look at what you did, he can't even trust you enough to touch you. and because alec doesn't touch him either and just seems closed off, magnus thinks, you can't fix this. it's all your fault and he'll never open up to you again. you're done

and then more guilt because he thinks, alec is not camille, he's not withholding touching me as punishment, why can't i stop acting like this is his fault? what's wrong with me? just talk. but he can't because he's terrified and there's so much going on in his head and then he feels worse because he can't just do the right thing and communicate, again, when clearly he should be the one to bring this up and make sure alec knows it wasn't his fault, and apologize for not being there for him

and maybe alec has that moment of "maybe i should just... go" and then magnus tries to stop him like "no, don't, please" because he's scared if this goes on for longer he'll just spiral harder and then he'll lose alec for good. and in the process he touches alec and alec recoils like he's been burned and magnus freezes completely and the sudden movement makes his eyes widen for a second and there's this almost imperceptible flinch and then again the guilt because 1- he touched alec without consent and warranted this reaction; 2- alec doesn't even want to touch him and he could have prevented this; 3- he's acting like alec would just become his abusers again. why the hell did he flinch?

and alec goes "i'm sorry", and magnus almost interrupts in his haste to be like "no, no, no, don't be sorry" almost begging him and that's when it hits alec that magnus has probably been spiralling this whole time too. and he wasn't there for him when magnus obviously needed comfort after such a traumatic experience. fuck he's fucking this up even more

so magnus can see the spiral in alec's eyes and he's like "no, come on, sit down, it's alright" and offers him like tea or something and his hands are shaking a bit because he wants to fix this and they both do really. cue awkward "im sorry" "no im sorry" "no im sorry" "no im-"

anyway they both talk about what they had been thinking and the guilt and the spirals and (in magnus' case) the whole thing about being triggered and not knowing how to deal with that and they clear the air and reassure each other because they are healthy and communicate and we stan that. sometimes just talking about the pain and reassuring each other is enough, you know?

and like alec holds magnus' face tenderly where he had hit him and very slowly leans down to give it a kiss and strokes it a bit and magnus takes alec's hand/fist and gives it a kiss too and slowly heals his knuckles and alec smiles up at him in the way he does and magnus' eyes shine too when he asks "better?" all hopeful like it really matters to him you know

and just alec peppering kisses on magnus' face and magnus kind of nuzzling against his hand and they both get that comfort of touching and knowing that they're still welcomed for each other and they have a Really Long Hug. complete with alec's face buried in magnus' shoulders and magnus clutching him a bit and it's almost smothering for them both but it's what they both need you know. and they whisper to each other "it's ok" and "i love you" and all that nice stuff 👌

anyway this is REALLY LONG so im ending it now im just obsessed with the mental image of alec kissing magnus' face and magnus' kissing his hand bye. also i love this ask ugh we stan mind control angst

#sh #shadowhunters #magnus bane #alec lightwood #malec #long post #self harm tw #abuse tw #child abuse tw #mind control tw #angst #mind control angst #ask #anonymous

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wonderlustlucas · 4 years

Text

mistletoe? oh no! - im jaebeom

⇢ prompt Why do we kiss under a mistletoe when it’s a parasitic plant that steals nutrients from its host tree? ⇢ pairing jaebeom x female reader ⇢ word count 6.9k ⇢ genre fluff ⇢ warnings swearing. alcohol. suggestive make out at the end :D ⇢ summary Six months ago, you drunkenly kissed Im Jaebeom on a beach trip with your friends. Afterward, the awkward tension kept the two of you from ever having the ‘What are we?’ talk and eventually, too much time had passed for anything to ever happen. Luckily, Pollyanna and a stupidly placed mistletoe have brought your feelings to the boiling point.—friends to lovers!au ⇢ a/n happy new year’s my loves! as one last hurrah for 2019 & as part of @kwritersworld‘s holiday writing event, here is yet another idiots to lovers, christmas/nye au! here’s to a lovely new year, & new decade. i hope you all have a blessed, joyous, & prosperous year. i love you! ♥︎

You once thought that you were an introvert.

You know— someone deemed shy, with a preference to keep to themselves rather than going out of their way to interact with others. Introvert. Opposite of extrovert.

It wasn’t until you were a senior in high school did you learn new definitions for these personality categories. An introvert—according to your philosophy teacher and a TED Talk speaker shown on the projector during class—is someone who, simply put, thinks of how they feel before speaking. Extroverts, on the other hand, only identify their true feelings on a topic after they have begun discussing it.

The lesson stuck with you. Albeit your perpetual reservation from others, you were always one to argue. Smart, excellent report card over the years— but found yourself blurting your opinion out at the first chance before fully thinking it through. Now, you concluded, I suppose I’m an extrovert if that truly is what it means. This knowledge, for some strange reason, gave you a token for change. If I’m an extrovert, you thought, I must start acting one.

Now, having just been accepted into law school, you think you have hit the nail on the head when it comes to meeting both definitions of an extrovert. Park Jinyoung, on the other hand, has his doubts.

“Are you sure you want to do this? Have you really thought about what this is gonna do to your life?” Despite the genuine concern laced in his tone, Jinyoung’s words make you wince. How he manages to suck the life out of a celebratory night out for drinks truly is beyond you.

“Yes, Jinyoung,” you groan, taking a desperate sip of your coquito like it’s really going to help against his insufferableness, “I’ve only been working for this for a few years, let me change my mind now.”

“You didn’t answer the question,” he counters, leaning in close enough for you to taste his Jo Malone fragrance on your tongue. You raise a skeptical brow at him. “Have you thought about what becoming a lawyer is going to make of your life?” His words are clipped and emphasized like he is speaking to a child, trying desperately to get his point across.

“I appreciate you looking out for me and my future, Jinyoung,” you sigh, reclining back in your bar stool because sitting that close to Jinyoung for that long makes your head dizzy, “but I promise you, I have thought about this. I know I have a lot of hard work ahead of me, but it’s what I want to do. I promise.”

Jinyoung huffs, defeated, before tipping his wine glass back and chugging what is left like some sort of animal. Very not Jinyoung-like. “Well, then I guess there’s no reason to not celebrate with you,” he grins. Then, not even a beat later, “When are you gonna make time to marry Jaebeom and have a bunch of sexy little babies?”

“Aw, for crying out loud!” You howl, slapping a hand to your forehead before turning to him with a pointed glare and a pointed finger. “Okay, first of all, the fact that you used sexy and babies in the same sentence concerns me. And second, stop saying me and Jaebeom are going to get married! He doesn’t even look at me, how do you equate marriage out of that?”

“You mean, you don’t look at him. You guys had a great time when we went to the beach not even six months ago, saw each other half naked, shared a drunken kiss before bed, and then dropped all communication! What the hell is up with that?” Jinyoung has a habit of lecturing you like it’s his full-time job and it drives you absolutely insane because he’s always right.

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” you mumble, bringing your glass to your lips and taking a lengthy sip just to buy some time. “Come on, ___. My boy is out here drowning in unrequited love while you’re just all ‘Teehee! I’m a lawyer! Don’t talk to me when I’m doing lawyer tings!’ Cut the bullshit and let him take you on a date and blow your back out for Christ’s sake!”

You are physically unable to suppress your laughter, hand flying to cover your mouth and head thrown back at his comical outburst. He’s lucky you love him or else he would seriously regret that outrageously inaccurate imitation of your voice. He’s lucky you are tipsy enough to lose yourself in laughter and he’s especially lucky that he is correct, once again.

“Jinyoung,” you wheeze, letting out one more breathless giggle before flipping on the serious mode switch, “I would love to not only go out on a date with Jaebeom, but to date him. But things got awkward and so much time as passed that suddenly starting things up again would be weird. Don’t you think?”

“No!” Jinyoung yells. Half the people at the bar jump at the noise and turn to glare. You do just the same before shooting an older gentleman beside Jinyoung an apologetic look. “I just don’t think you’re drinking enough.”

“Yes,” then, a pause to ask the bartender for the check now that Jinyoung’s lectures are starting to put a downer on you, “that’s exactly it. I’m afraid to get drunk off my ass when Jaebeom’s around because I’ll do something stupid and either scare him off or bring him home and both are terrible options!”

“You’re no fun,” Jinyoung scoffs, “my two best friends, both pining after one another, but pulling the sixteen-year-old card and not talking to each other. Great! Just great.”

You laugh, hopping down from your seat and patting his knee once you have slipped on your coat. “Buy a mistletoe for the Christmas party and maybe something can be arranged.”

Jinyoung doesn’t find it funny.

For the past six years, it has been tradition for you and your friends to have a belated Christmas slash New Year’s party where Pollyanna gifts are exchanged and an excessive amount of alcohol is consumed because, well, your friends are fun. For the past three, however, you have been holding said party at Youngjae’s house, because he is the only one who has a house and houses are infinitely better for parties than apartments. Plus, Youngjae is a gracious man who welcomes the company year after year. Can’t understand why he wants nine psychopaths in his lovely little abode, but that’s not your problem.

What is your problem is the fact that there actually is a mistletoe hanging from the ceiling fan in the kitchen. You’re going to kill Jinyoung.

You once thought Choi Youngjae was the coolest person to bless the planet. Now, you’re not so sure.

It’s the first thing your eye goes to upon entering Youngjae’s outrageously beautiful row home. Usually, you need a solid ten minutes to accept the fact that you will never become a model and have as many zeroes at the end of your savings as Youngjae, spending way too much time swooning over his grey vinyl wood floors and brick fireplace and white marble countertops. This time, however, while Jinyoung and Yugyeom do the whole bro hug greeting after wiping the snow from their shoes, you stand pressed up awkwardly against the front door, crockpot of buffalo chicken dip in hand, glaring at the stupid thing from two rooms over. Before you can turn an accusing finger to Jinyoung, Youngjae has turned to welcome you.

“You made it!” He cheers, flashing that thousand-watt smile of his and easing some of the tension that has begun to build up in your nerves like plaque. “Somehow, someway,” you return, relaxing into his embrace when he curves around the precious chicken dip to offer a half hug. “You need a drink,” Youngjae decides after having evaluated the lack of excitement in your response. Following after Jinyoung and Yugyeom, he leads you into the kitchen with a lively bounce to his step. “Bambam just finished making hot toddies, or you could be the first to take from our jell-o shot Christmas tree.”

He gestures to said “tree” on his dining table, a neatly stacked pile of green, red, and blue jell-o shots and you feel awfully terrible at having to ruin its perfected assembly. “It’s beautiful,” you muse, setting the crockpot on the counter and plugging its cord into an outlet, “it would be my honor to have the first one.”

“___!” Hollers Jackson as he slides open the door from the back patio and enters the kitchen, Maggie filing in after him. He must have joined her for a smoke outside. He proceeds to do a little dance shimmy as he makes his way over to you. “Jackson, my love,” you grin, squeezing him into a tight hug after he slaps a messy kiss to your cheek. “How are you, Miss I-Got-Accepted-Into-Law-School?”

That is going to be the topic of discussion for the night, it seems, and the heat of an embarrassed blush works its way up your neck at the realization. “I’m good. Really good, actually,” you say, directing your attention to Maggie who slips around Jackson to tuck into your side, “definitely not as stressed as I was. The holidays are a nice break from everything.”

“We’re all so proud of you,” Maggie hums, leaning her head on your shoulder.

“Seriously, congratulations, again. You deserve it,” Jackson praises, reaching to squeeze your cheek. You swat his hand away in fear he will mess up the foundation you spent way too much time applying.

“Thank you, guys. I’m glad someone is happy for me,” you grumble, directing a cold glare to Jinyoung who, somehow, has already managed to fire Yugyeom up.

“What?” Bambam interjects, jumping into the conversation now that he has made his way into the room. “Didn’t you guys go out when you got accepted?”

“Yeah,” you sigh, smiling to the very expensive looking boy, “but he’s more worried than excited. Thinks I’m not considering how becoming a lawyer is going to affect my future, the stress of it, having a family, but…”

Maggie scoffs. “God, he sounds like your dad.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Ugh! Everyone, shoo! Why are we all in the kitchen? Go sit in the living room,” Youngjae hisses, grabbing Bambam by the shoulders and shoving him out of the room. Bambam makes a sound of protest, gesturing dramatically to all the food and the pot of hot toddy still on the stove.

“You can come back when there isn’t an entire crowd in here,” Youngjae counters, slapping a handful of jell-o shots into his hands, “I made Yugyeom promise to not eat all of ___’s dip, you don’t need to worry.” Bambam grumbles in response, stumbling after the others and you follow suit with a laugh.

Pausing just before the living room, Bambam stops to pass everyone a shot. “Here’s to Christmas and getting Jaebeom and ___ to kiss under the mistletoe.”

“Stop!” You whine, just as the rest ‘clink’ their cups and shout, “Cheers!” Nevertheless, down the hatch the jell-o goes and you glare at them all once they are done.

“Oh, speak of the Devil,” Yugyeom snickers just as you have ran ahead to crash down on the sofa, stretching your legs out across the chaise. Rolling over off your stomach, you turn to watch Mark, Jaebeom, and Shelby arrive, one too many gift bags and bottles of wine in hand. “Oh,” Maggie whispers from beside you, elbow nudging into your side, “look at your man.”

Funny thing is, you already are. To give you the benefit of the doubt— you were already watching the trio stumble into the room anyway, but it just so happened you stopped at Jaebeom. Before things between you got complicated, when you were just friends, he always had a way of stealing the oxygen from your lungs. Now is no different.

Dressed in black slacks, a white tee tucked in and a baby blue blazer to top it all off, Jaebeom looks nothing short of marvelous. He’s been growing his hair out, too, the black waves curling down to brush his cheekbones, screaming to be combed through with your fingers. And oh Christ, you can’t even begin to talk about the nose piercing. In the midst of your swooning, Jaebeom looks up after having deemed his sneakers clean enough to walk through Youngjae’s home, scanning the room before conveniently landing on you. The blush on both of your faces is instantaneous, hardly a second of maintaining eye contact before the embarrassment burns too hot and you turn away. Still, you can’t fight your smile.

Neither can he.

“Now the party’s started!” Mark hoots, swinging two bottles in the air like he’s asking for disaster. “Hurry and put everything down so we can play something,” Yugyeom whines from his seat across the room, pushing Jaebeom’s butt to move faster. “Patience is a virtue, Yugyeom,” Jinyoung comments, throwing a Hershey Kiss wrapper at him.

“Absolute children,” Maggie mutters. You hum in agreement.

“Do you wanna play the alphabet game?” Bambam proposes, earning a groan from Jackson. He hates the game, despite how often you all play it, claiming it takes too much brain power for a party.

“Yes! I’m down,” Shelby shouts anyway, having returned in time to hear Bambam’s question. To Jackson’s misery, you all agree as well.

“Youngjae!” Bambam shouts, waiting for him to yell back. “Grab the peppermint vodka when you come in! We’re playing the alphabet game!”

The way you all play most likely has deviated from the original rules of the game, but it works and it’s fun. Sitting in a circle, you go through the alphabet, naming something in a certain category that begins with whatever letter you’re on. For example, if you were doing fruits and were on the letter W, you could say watermelon. But, the person to your right is counting to ten, and once that time is up, you have to take a shot and the letter moves on to the next person until someone gets a word. Sounds easy, until you’re three shots in and not even halfway through the alphabet.

With Shelby collapsing down between Yugyeom and Jackson on the love seat, Youngjae on the armchair by the fireplace, and Mark on the bean bag brought down from upstairs, you realize with a rising sense of panic that the only possible seating for Jaebeom is by—

“Hey,” he says, tapping your outstretched legs, “can I sit here? You can keep your legs stretched. I don’t mind.”

“Oh, sure, sure!” You squeak, jerking to sit up and to pull your legs to your chest. However, just as he sits, he grabs your ankles to tug them back. Hesitantly, and with an appreciative smile sent his way, you hesitantly lay your legs over his lap, his arms comfortably rested over them. Oh, fuck.

Swallowing hard and trying to ignore the way your heart flutters in her chest, you turn back to your friends where the game is just starting.

“Okay, I’ll start since I’m in the middle,” Mark announces, readjusting himself in the bean bag to sit closer to the coffee table, “Yugyeom, you count. Actually, you don’t need to, I already have my word. A, as in artificial tree.”

“One word, idiot,” Youngjae scoffs, smacking the back of Mark’s head, “take a shot. Yugyeom, you go.”

The younger boy pales, panicking when Mark does as he is told. Then, he blurts, “A as in angel!”

“B as in bells!” Shelby shouts.

“C as in… Christmas,” Jackson says with a wink.

“D as in December,” Jinyoung hums nonchalantly.

“E as in eggnog!” Bambam cheers.

“F as in…” Maggie pales, trailing off. In your head, you start to count, while simultaneously trying to think of a holiday word that starts with F. “Festive!” She shouts suddenly. “Oh, shit, um… G as in… gingerbread?” You huff, relieved.

“H as in holiday,” Jaebeom says with a soft smile. All eyes are on Youngjae as he stares hopelessly at the ceiling. “I, as in…”

In your head, you count alongside Mark. “What the fuck starts with I?” Youngjae hisses, slapping his knees anxiously. The silence is deafening until Mark shouts with a sadistic grin, “TEN!” Youngjae hangs his head low before reaching for the bottle. Ironic, because Mark can’t think of a word, and neither can Yugyeom, Shelby, or Jackson. Jinyoung grins at their expense until it’s his turn. “Icicle,” he says without a beat.

“That’s not Christmas-y!” Yugyeom whines, hands thrown up dramatically. “Can you think of anything better, stupid?” Jinyoung fires back, evidently shutting him up. Poor Yugyeom, he can never win.

“J as in Jesus,” Bambam says with a laugh.

“K? Bruh, you gotta be joking,” Maggie sighs, throwing her head back against the sofa, trying to concentrate. “Ten,” you sigh sadly even though you counted to fifteen, patting her knee and Youngjae passes her the bottle. “Um, K as in…” Christ, you can’t think of anything either. Kris Kringle? No, two words, fuck.

“Ten!” Jaebeom chuckles, squeezing your calf and you quickly take a swig with a wince. The round goes all the way to Shelby, who happily yells, “Kings!”

The game drags on, keeping you all at the edge of your seats by the time U and V come around. When it comes to W, everyone has had one too many shots to be able to think quickly enough to come up with wreath. Except for Jinyoung, of course. You give up on Z, deciding there is no such word and you all let out a relieved breath at the game’s conclusion. “Does this mean we can eat now?” Jackson mumbles, far too gone for a party that has only started hardly an hour ago.

“Yes! I’m ravenous,” Bambam groans, helping his friend stand. Together, they’re the first to make way into the kitchen and you’re surprised Youngjae doesn’t chase after them to make sure they don’t knock anything over.

“Well,” Jaebeom yawns and you are suddenly mortified to realize that your legs are still casually stretched out over his lap. “That was fun.” Swinging your legs away and moving to sit up, you nod in agreement. “Very fun. Love watching you and Jinyoung outsmart us every time.”

“Hey,” he frowns, elbowing your arm now that you’re sitting upright beside him, “nobody could think of tree for T, but you did, so shush.” You turn to give him an unamused look. “That’s because Jinyoung was overthinking, and Maggie and Bam drank too much,” you laugh, standing with a stretch. Jaebeom raises an eyebrow. “What?” You ask, unsure of what that look means.

“Why does your snowman have a cape? Oh—” he starts, lifting the fabric attached to the winking snowman on your ugly sweater to find a carrot penis below the three buttons. Jaebeom breaks out into laughter, face scrunched up and head thrown back and it consequently makes you laugh, too. Well, if there was any person that was going to ask first, you’re glad it was him. “Was not expecting that,” he chuckles, wiping the tears that have accumulated at his eyes before rising to stand and oh, suddenly you feel so small with him standing so close to you like that. God, he’s beautiful, you admire. Without thinking, you brush away a tuft of hair that has fallen over his eye, just to see your favorite pair of moles. It isn’t until rosiness blooms across his cheekbones do you realize what you just did.

“Sorry,” you rush breathlessly, taking a step back and turning to make sure nobody saw that. Luckily, only Shelby and Yugyeom remain, too busy cozying up to one another to notice. “___!” Maggie shouts from the kitchen like some godsent angel whose purpose is to save you from awkward moments. “You have to come see this!”

You shoot Jaebeom an awkward smile before swinging around him and making a beeline for the kitchen. Idiot, you scold yourself before taking a deep breath and bringing a smile to your face. “What?” You hum, leaning your head on Maggie’s shoulder. All it is is a SnapChat story of someone you went to university with, a picture of an engagement ring, but you are beyond grateful she called you in. After she stops to take a selfie with you, you navigate around your friends to start a pile of food on your plate, everything from dim sum (thanks, Jackson), grilled pork belly, kimbap, bulgogi sandwiches, spaghetti (thanks, Jackson, part two), and, of course, tortilla chips with your buffalo chicken dip. Big plate for big brain.

Despite the crowdedness, thankfully you are able to avoid standing anywhere close to the mistletoe once Jaebeom enters the room only a few moments later. Finally making your way to the dining table, you let out a sigh of relief now that you don’t have to worry about anything looming above. Of course, your friends have a different idea.

“___,” Maggie purrs just as you have set your plate down, gazing at you expectantly and fluttering her lashes.

“What do you want?”

“Could you get a water for me? There’s bottles in the fridge. Pleeeaaase?” She sings. You wave her off, having already turned around. Can’t be mad at her, honestly; you forgot to grab something for yourself to drink, anyway. Pulling two bottles off the shelves and nudging the refrigerator door closed, you’re just trying to grab a potato chip from the bowl on the counter when Mark rounds the corner and trips over his own feet, coincidentally falling towards you but when you step back to avoid the red wine sloshing in his glass, Jinyoung has suddenly appeared behind you and you stumble over his foot.

It’s a good plan, you think, expecting Jaebeom to catch you like some fucking knight of shining armor and steady you just below the mistletoe, but unfortunately for them, you’re quick to reach for the counter and Jaebeom has literally just turned around in his search for silverware. Regaining your balance against the cabinets, you do not miss the group’s combined groan of disappointment and can’t help but triumphantly grin. “You okay, Mark?” You ask, spinning around and suppressing a laugh at the ‘please don’t kill me’ look in the older boy’s eyes. “Yep,” he coughs, stepping to the side as you brush past.

Dinner is tense, to say the least. Maybe it’s just you. You’re annoyed, beyond so, at your friends’ lack of maturity. Relatively speaking, yes, they are trying to help push you and Jaebeom in the right direction, but their ways of operation lack any beneficial qualities. This is your problem, and you have to deal with it yourself.

You stay quiet, for the most part, occupying your thoughts simply on eating and the approaching excitement of Pollyanna. When you all picked out of a hat a little over a month ago, you initially panicked at Bambam’s name looking back at you on the folded piece of paper. As it turned out, buying gifts for him ended up working out; first, you found matching sweaters for him and his cats, then a travel set for his Bleu de Chanel cologne, a mermaid blanket he had found an Instagram ad for and wouldn’t shut up about, and finally a gift card to his favorite Thai restaurant. What’s more exciting is finding out who has your gifts. Plus, everyone did incredibly well keeping quiet this year, managing to make it all the way without slipping who had who.

Unfortunately, your irritable emotions aren’t done for the night. After finishing your much needed, sobering meal, your goblin friends are prepared to have you and Jaebeom beneath that mistletoe if it’s the last thing they will ever do. Trying to clean up before everyone really gets trashed is an absolute nightmare, everyone taking part in the scheme of leaving just the two of you in the room, nudging him your way, asking you to help Jaebeom do this, help Jaebeom do that. It only gets worse once he realizes what they’re trying to do, curving around you like you have the plague and each time you make eye contact, you contemplate fleeing to the bathroom just to scream.

After what feels like ages spent in the stifling kitchen, you migrate back to the living room to finally, finally open gifts. Good riddance, mistletoe. At everyone’s look of general disappointment, you let out your umpteenth relieved sigh of the night and collapse back into your precious spot at the sofa. You know you’re getting old when you have only been out for two and a half hours and you’re already exhausted.

To make matters worse—or better, you can’t really tell at this point—Jaebeom also sits back down beside you. You can tell he’s anxious; he’s gone back and forth between picking at his nails and a scab on his jaw for a while now and you almost want to say something until you remember how deliberately he dodged you in the kitchen. Maybe, just maybe, a part of you had hoped he would have taken the opportunity and kissed you himself. Why would things ever be so simple?

“Alrighty, friends,” settling into his chair, Youngjae beams. “Let’s get this party started. We’ll go in the same circle as before.”

In turn, Mark flashes that boyish smile of his and leans across the table to pass a bag and small box to Jinyoung. “Ooh,” the younger boy hums excitedly, “thanks, Mark.” Next, Yugyeom hands Jackson a bag, Shelby slides a big box to Youngjae, and, breaking into a fit of laughter, Jackson ends up giving a bag right back to Yugyeom. Jinyoung passes Maggie her gift, and when Bambam rises to hand Jaebeom a hefty bag, you can’t help but miss the way he glances sadly to you before smiling gratefully at his friend and engulfing him into a hug. Suddenly, it dawns on you that there are only three other people left, and watch with an impending sense of dread as Maggie walks across the room to give Shelby her gift. Two left.

Grinning excitedly, you lean over to pass Bambam his gift bag, earning a smile in return bright enough to put the Sun out of business. Now, the moment you all have been waiting for.

Sucking in a deep breath, you turn to Jaebeom, sending all prayers to God that he will rise to hand Mark the bag in his hands.

The universe laughs.

“Ugh,” Jaebeom groans, grinning like a Cheshire cat, “you’re so far.” He places the gift bag, which, is surprisingly heavier than expected, on your lap. “Thanks, Jae,” you manage, smiling fondly at him. Behind him, Youngjae drops a box by Mark’s feet, but by now everything around you has faded into the background, leaving only you and Jaebeom floating in the midst of it all. Even though he has turned away, you can’t stop staring at him. Why’d it have to be him? What are the chances? God, something tells you you’re going to fall in love by the time the night is over.

It isn’t until the tearing of wrapping paper registers in your mind do you snap out of it, coming back to reality and quickly redirecting your attention to opening your gift.

There’s a lot to unfold here, you think with a racing heart, removing the tissue paper and finding three separate items inside. You go for the small box first. It’s a jewelry box, no doubt, but this doesn’t keep the butterflies in your stomach at bay once you lift the beige lid to reveal a rose gold bracelet, diamonds in the pattern of a constellation. There’s a small card attached to the lid, too, and flipping that over you read that it is the constellation for your zodiac sign. “Jae,” you whimper, lips curling into a pout and he laughs at your touched expression. “This is beautiful.”

“Shh! Open everything first,” he hushes, waving you off and returning to his own gift.

Sucking in a deep breath, you do as you’re told and reach for the much larger box. Tearing open the wrapping paper and lifting the lid, you find a glass dome atop a wooden base, and inside is a beautiful red and gold rose with little fairy lights surrounding it. A Beauty and the Beast replicate, without a doubt, and it is so stunning you wish you could lift the glass and feel the fake rose for yourself. A man of taste, without a doubt.

Last but not least, you grab the envelope and excitedly tear it open, because envelopes mean one of three things: 1) a card 2) tickets 3) money, all unlikely options when it comes to Pollyanna.

Well, maybe not, because inside are two passes for the art museum up in the city. “Dude,” you kick Jaebeom’s ankle and stammer out, “how did you? When did you?”

He laughs. “You mentioned wanting to go a few months ago, and I didn’t think you ever got a chance. You haven’t, right?” He sounds worried. “No, I never got to go,” swallowing past the desert dryness of your throat, “thank you, Jaebeom. Everything is so beautiful.”

“Of course, ___,” he smiles, reaching for your hand and even though it’s only a gentle squeeze he gives you, it has your heart doing somersaults. “Anything for you.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. You are going through some serious torture here and still won’t make a move!

Everyone is extraordinarily jovial after opening gifts. With Christmas music filling the room with cheer and one too many drinks being mixed, holiday charades and pin the nose on Rudolph are played with high spirits and excessive competitiveness. The night is fun, without a doubt, and you try to ignore the way your friends are still trying to get you and Jaebeom under the mistletoe no matter how annoying it may be. Why can’t they do it to Yugyeom and Shelby? Sure, everyone knows they fuck but neither of them have the balls to officially ask the other out, so why are you the one targeted? Jaebeom didn’t ask for this, either.

“Fuck!” Youngjae groans when Maggie makes her shot into their cup for jingle bell beer pong. Since freshman year, you and Maggie have fought back and forth for the champion's title against Youngjae and Jackson. With this being the second win against them for the night, you get to wear the label proud until next time. “Oh, yeah, baby!” She shouts, doing a funky celebratory dance before jumping to give you a hug.

“I’m a disgrace to the Chinese community,” Jackson cries—literally—before squatting to bury his face in his knees.

“HA!” You laugh mercilessly, jumping along with Maggie in triumph. “You guys are so mean,” Mark chuckles, walking away from their own losers’ championship to see what all the commotion is about. “Just to Youngjae and Jackson,” Maggie defends, gesturing to the pair having a drunken meltdown together. You hum in agreement.

“Yugyeom and Jaebeom are playing Jinyoung and Bambam. It’s pretty intense,” Mark explains, blatantly sarcastic when you glance curiously to the other table. “They’re all so drunk, they’re literally just throwing bells at each other.” He holds up one such bell that must have strayed away from the game. You laugh, hugging your jacket closer and watching Yugyeom begin to twerk when he finally makes a shot.

“My God,” Maggie snickers, shielding her eyes and turning away from the scene to comfort the still depressed Jackson.

“So,” Mark starts, “you and Jaebeom, huh?”

You groan. “Me and Jaebeom, what?”

“I mean, those gifts he gave you were pretty cute. What’s it gonna take for you to ask him to go to the museum with you, hm?” He purrs with a rise of his dark brows. Shit, he does have a point. Why else would Jaebeom give you two passes? To bring one of your other, definitely less artsy friends to go with you?”

Mark simpers at your speechless self, knowing he’s trumped you.

Sucking in a deep breath, you hold the cold air in long enough to gather your scrambling thoughts before releasing a heavy exhale with absolutely no change to how you feel. “I’ll try,” you grumble, “why can’t he make the first move?”

Mark lets out a dry laugh. “___, are you serious?”

“Huh? What—”

“He’s been making the first move for months,” he interrupts, shaking his head at your textbook definition denseness, “you’ve just been curving him the entire time. I know you’ve been busy with law school stuff the past few months, but come on, now. You have to grab him before someone else does.”

If it weren’t for the chill of the air keeping your cheeks and the tip of your nose cold and ruddy, you know the color would have drained from your face. Embarrassed and in desperate need for some space, you quickly turn away to look in the direction of the house, where Coco scratches at the backdoor.

“I, um, I’ll be right back,” you say, voice small. Heart hammering in your chest as you jog up the steps and across the small deck, it isn’t until you have slid open the door to let Coco out and closed it behind you do you let out a shaky sigh. “Jesus Christ,” you hiss, shaking off your jacket and slinging it over a chair before moving to cower in the corner. Reaching for what little tortilla chips are left, you anxiously take the lid off your chicken dip and begin shoveling mouthfuls into your mouth. Is it true? Have you really been the one dodging Jaebeom all this time? Sure, everyone always says it, especially Jinyoung, but it has seemed like Jaebeom has been curving you, too.

Maybe he has just been giving up.

This makes your head hurt, you think, bending down to rest your forehead against the counter. The fucking gifts, man. Mark is right—the bracelet, the rose lamp, the museum tickets. How did he remember that small detail you mentioned… when did you even mention it? You can’t remember, yet he did! Jesus, all this time you’ve wasted being an absolute clown over this. You’ll have to do something about it. Tonight, you decide, looking to the clock above the stove. 11:12 PM. Forty-eight minutes until New Year’s. You’ll kiss him, and that’s when you will—

“Ahem.” Behind you, someone clears their throat and it quite literally feels as if you have jumped out of your skin. “Jesus Christ!” You jump, spinning around with a heart thumping in your chest. Your heartbeat only mildly slows once you realize it’s only Jaebeom. OnlyJaebeom, yeah. “I didn’t even hear you come in.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, chuckling awkwardly. “Did I interrupt something?”

You wince, beyond humiliated he caught you mid-pep talk slash breakdown. “No, no. You’re fine, I was just, um…”

“Catching a breath?” He finishes when you trail off. Maybe he’s not so drunk, after all.

“Yeah,” you whisper, looking to your feet.

After a long moment of silence, Jaebeom clears his throat. “Listen, ___, I… I’ve been meaning to talk to you, and—”

“Wait!” You interrupt before your brain has even caught up. His eyes widen in surprise at your sudden excitement. “I need to tell you something, first.”

“Ohhh ‘kay,” he laughs nervously, stepping closer to lean against the counter beside you and his proximity suddenly makes it very hard to breathe, let alone figure out what you want to say.

“I don’t know where to start. Okay, um, first, I guess. The gifts you gave me? Amazing. Probably one of the best I’ve ever gotten. So thank you, really,” you start, rushed and out of breath. Jaebeom hums, lips tilting into an amused smirk. You don’t miss how he leans just barely closer. “Second. Mark was just talking to me, and he said something that just… fucked me up. Apparently, I’m good at school but not at catching when someone actually, truly likes me.”

At this, Jaebeom’s curiosity has peaked and his heartbeat starts to mirror your own. “I don’t know how this happened. I know we kissed over the summer, and you have been my friend for years but all of a sudden, I realized that I like you. You’re like, one of my favorite people in the world. But then things got crazy busy and I told myself I needed to concentrate, but for fuck’s sake, I’m still head over heels for you after all this time. And Mark said that if I don’t stop curving you, soon you are going to find someone else and, Jesus, I don’t think I can live with myself if I let you slip by.”

Somewhere in the middle of your ramble, Jaebeom has pressed himself to you and curled a finger through a belt loop in your jeans to keep you there against him. Even up close, he is so unbearably handsome, nose still beet red from the cold, lips cracked and face left unshaven. “So,” he whispers, raising his free hand to cup your face, “are you ready to finally stop running from me?” You offer a tiny nod, nuzzling into his hand before, “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Can you kiss me?” Jaebeom doesn’t waste any time bothering to answer, tipping your chin up to meet his lips. Jaebeom’s kiss is soft, just a drawn-out peck but it’s enough to drop kick your sanity right out the door. “Tastes like buffalo chicken,” he whispers with a smile, just barely pulling back. Just as soon as he has stopped, you are fisting your hands into his jacket and tugging him back, greedily opening his mouth with yours and whimpering against him once he has caught the hint and slackened his jaw to deepen the kiss. Maybe it’s the alcohol, but kissing Jaebeom leaves you breathless, limbs weak kind of drunk on his taste and leaving you desperate for more.

“Jaebeom,” you sigh dreamily, arching into him when he drags a hand down your spine. “Fuck,” he whispers, pushing you further against the cabinets and mindlessly gyrating his hips with yours. Hands brushing past your ass to grip the back of your thighs, he orders, “Jump.” You do as he says, allowing him to help you onto the counter and you distantly pray someone doesn’t walk in on you, especially Youngjae. He’ll murder you if you knock something down.

“Can’t believe you’ve kept me waiting all this time when you kiss like that,” Jaebeom mutters, kissing along the length of your neck and groaning against your skin when your hands brush along the waistband of his pants. “Never met someone who wears an ugly sweater and still manages to be the hottest one in the room.”

Your breath hitches when his hand slips beneath your sweater, fingers brushing just over your bra and leaving fire in their wake. “Impossible,” you huff, wrapping your legs around him to pull him impossibly closer, his involuntary thrusts brushing deliciously against you, “when I say the same thing about you.” Jaebeom chuckles, returning to your mouth and cradling your jaw to meet him. You could do this forever, you think, nails digging into his arms when his hand cards through your hair and he kisses like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do.

“God, I can’t do this when I’m not sober,” he sighs, leaning his forehead against yours and you can’t help but smile at the soft gesture. “Me too,” you admit, reaching to play with the soft hair at the back of his neck, “we can do this whenever now, though.” Jaebeom chuckles, leaning back to admire you before placing a much softer kiss on your lips. “Does that mean you’ll go out on a date with me?”

“Well, yes, of course,” you grin, sliding off the counter and cupping his face, “I meant what I said. I can’t bear the thought of not giving us a chance.”

“It’s about damn time,” Jaebeom teases, earning a light punch to his arm. “Hey! I’ve been stressed out of my mind. I was blind when it came to seeing you flirt with me.”

“I’m kidding, ___,” he chuckles, “I’m glad it took us until now. It’s a good way to start off the year, knowing I’ll meet my New Year’s Resolution and be able to bone you sooner than later.”

Your eyes widen at his words, warmth instantly blooming its way up your neck when you glance to the growing tent in his slacks and he lets out a triumphant laugh. In the midst of your embarrassed flush, the back-door slides open and none other than Jinyoung starts shouting, “Where the fuck have y’all been? Oh— shit! What happened?”

Then, not a heartbeat later, “Kiss! KIIIISSSSSSS!”

“KISS!” Maggie screams, bouncing behind Jinyoung and it isn’t until you look up do you understand. Of fucking course— the stupid mistletoe.

“Shall we, m’lady?” Jaebeom asks, voice laced with amusement. You quirk a brow at him, grabbing him by the collar and yanking him closer.

“We shall.”

Not even three hours into the new decade, Jaebeom has already met his New Year’s Resolution.

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marshmallowprotection · 3 years

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So, little spoon saeran... we keep talking about him having nightmares, but what about MC? Im going to talk about this using my own experience though

I mightve mentioned it when it happened, but not too long ago, like just a few weeks i believe, I had a nightmare. I don't normally get nightmares; sometimes i'll get what i simply call a weird dream, which may spook me a little, but its never actually scary when i look back on it, and i can calm down rather quickly. I dream almost every night, dont remember most of them, but they're usually good or just meh. However, once in a while, I'll have a legit nightmare. I still remember the last one, too, which happened months ago. Its not scary anymore, and it was more of a disgust combined with fear because of the contents, but it got to me for... about a week. In fact, i can also remember one in particular from... almost 7 or 8 years ago. I lost all my pets in that dream, and had to literally get up and check to make sure they were all still around and alive, even tho i knew i was back in reality.

This most recent one started off as a (rather lengthy) good dream, mightve even starred some of the mysme characters in the first half, and took a very sharp turn to a nightmare, and then I immediately woke up. Ive read in stories and seen in movies and whatnot, characters gasping for breath after a nightmare, but this was the first time i actually properly experienced it. I was terrified. I think it was that sound. That damned sound your phone makes whenever you get a flash flood warning or amber alert. Its so unsettling. And the promise of death, in my dream, that was the message accompanying that sound, and the fact that the people in my dream actually had faces-- normally, when i look back on a dream, if i can recall what a character in it looked like, usually they dont match the character my brain labelled them as, mostly hair-wise, and they dont have a face. But this time, it was all the more vivid, because everyone had faces -- the right faces, the correct appearance.

It was so bad i had to go into my mom's room, because company tends to calm me down. But it wasn't enough. I had to sleep in her room; I was so shaken. The next two days: paranoid. Im not that conspiracy theorist "the government is out to get us" type person, but i was straight up paranoid. And then a few more days passed, i was rewatching my favourite youtuber, he was playing a SirenHead game as one of the 3 free random games, and i had to fast forward through that game after a few minutes because that sound

I had no intentions of writing that much context holy cow, sorry ^^"

What I meant to cover, was the fact that I needed that human touch, and so i just kinda half-held my mom's shoulder when laying next to her cos lets be honest even then i didnt want to admit i needed more. But with Saeran, where I'm already at that point of not feeling awkward about being so close (i mean, we're frickin spooning, its kinda a given lmao), I'd probably hold him a lot tighter -- like a lot. Because i tend to grip harder than i mean to, just in general, but especially in moments like that. Just straightup clinging to him, pressing myself as close as possible, face buried between his shoulder blades... clutching and releasing and clutching again the front of his shirt or sweater or whatever he wears to bed, trying desperately anything to alleviate the deep fear...

I'm the opposite of him, it seems. He needs space, while i need to feel as small and confined as possible, and i need the presence of another, and when it gets as bad as i have described, i need the physical reassurance of their presence, as well as that warmth and comfort, holding another being...

Hhhholy moly this is getting long. I'll stop now. I think i had a question regarding this, but I have no idea anymore lol.

[417]

You’re soft-starved and that’s okay. It’s okay to want the comfort of another person but it comes down to knowing when it’s okay to ask for it and when it’s okay to say that you need a certain kind of closeness. You can’t just assume that everyone needs hugs but some people may need hands or just the company of another person. It comes down to you and what you’re going through at the moment as well as your comfort zone.

With Saeran, if it’s GE Saeran, anyway, yes, he wants to be able to be close to you. He wants that. He just needs you to ask for it and he needs to have the time to prepare for that mentally before it happens. It’s a small thing but it’s all you need to do to ensure that he knows he has your trust. He would do the same thing with you. It’s just up to how okay you feel!

Consent. Communication!

#417 anon #ask #mod kait

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lightschosen · 3 years

Text

First and foremost, Mun ≠ Muse.

My thoughts and opinions may be somewhat reflected in Art, but many of our opinions and ideas are different.

Anyways, Hello! Thank you for stopping by to read the rules!

I’m Corgi, lovable sausage dog and generally anxious bean.

I’m pretty easily overwhelmed, so don’t be discouraged if I don’t immediately reply or suddenly disappear. I’m most likely just hiding under a rock for a while.

Art used is not mine unless otherwise state. I claim no ownership.

This blog is OC friendly! OCs are awesome! I adore ocs but I must ask that any OCs have an About page. I want information on the character I am going to be interacting with and unlike Canon characters, I cannot go and look your unique character up. Thank you!

This blog is Multiverse friendly. I am willing to try to RP with characters from just about any universes but please try to provide information for me if I do not happen to know your specific canon. I will inform you if I am uncertain.

If you followed me, I will probably follow back. I will usually follow back blogs with Rules and About pages very quickly, perhaps within a few days. I don’t usually like to follow blogs that don’t, at the very least, have rules. I will not follow back Personal blogs.

We both have a right to say ‘No’. If you come to me for a role play and I am uncomfortable, for whatever reason, I have the right to deny you. The same goes for you. My feelings won’t be hurt if you tell me (nicely) that you don’t want to interact. I’d much rather be told than ignored.

I have a tendency to drop threads. This isn’t really anyone’s fault. I’ve got a bad case of ‘Wandering Muse’ and all my muses tend to come and go, as do their interests. However, if I happen to drop a thread that you’re interested in continuing, please come and talk to me. I can try and garner some interest on your behalf.

I prefer paragraph style role plays. One-liners are usually only done with Ask interactions or crack. I don’t expect you to match me paragraph for paragraph, but please try to keep from replying with a one-liner when I post a multi paragraph response. That is incredibly discouraging and is probably the fastest way to make me lose interest in a thread.

I am not against being contacted via IM. However, I do not role play over IM. IC asks are perfectly fine, though.

– Speaking of IM’s. Be warned that I am awkward and horrible at communication. I am horrid with new people. Just give me a little time to come around and I’ll be chattering in no time.

NSFW is okay.

Non-sexual content, such as gore, violence, torture, and other such things will most likely make an appearance in some form. Extreme/ excessive gore, dismemberment, extreme violence, extreme torture, and the like must be talked over.

Sexual content is a-okay.

Anything NSFW, no matter the content, will be tagged and (if necessary) placed below ‘read more’.

This is a Multi-ship blog. Every different ship will have a separate universe unless decided otherwise. Poly relationships are fine so long as all involved agree to it.

I shall not tolerate hate speech, discrimination, racism, sexism, or other such practices in regards to my blog. I don’t care what you identify as, the color of your skin, your heritage, or whatever. Just don’t be a dick and we’ll get along just fine.

– More to be added as seen fit –

#ғᴜᴄᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴏʙᴇʏ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀᴡ╰♞╮Rules

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missorgana · 4 years

Text

interrupt me

pairing: finn/poe dameron

fandom: star wars (sequel trilogy)

rating: teen and up

word count: 2502

warning: swearing

summary: Finn wants Poe to be his boyfriend, so badly, it's sort of unbelievable he hasn't asked him already. But he doesn't know how. (high school AU)

(finnpoe week 2020 is here yall!!! so excited for my baby event tbh. annddd here’s my first fic for it, i chose high school au bcus well im cheesy ok. if u want to enter finnpoe week with me you can check out the event blog and my post here!! hope you enjoy this fluffy mess!)

read on ao3

“So?”

When Finn realises this is the only greeting he’s getting from his best friend, he gives her a semi-awkward chuckle, as he always does when he can’t quite figure out what she’s on about.

Very much not the first time.

“So… what?”

And she raises her eyebrows in an offended look.

Offended in the only way Rey can be, because she’s never seriously been mad at him, mind you.

“I can’t believe you.” she simply tells him, opening her locker in the process.

Okay, maybe Finn has an idea of what’s frustrating her. After all, she texted him about it last night. A text he was keen to avoid at that time.

“I got your text, I swear-”

“And you didn’t respond because of the reason I suspect?”

Man, Rey really should be a psychic or something. Kind of freaky how she’s always two steps ahead of him.

Her annoyance did fade slightly when Finn let his defeat show.

“I know, I promised you.” and he tells her while shoving the chemistry book down in his bag, the bell interrupting before he continues, “But, I, uh. It just wasn’t the right time, okay?”

Rey’s shoulders are still tense, she huffs, but ultimately shrugs.

“You also said that after your last three dates, you know.”

He does know. Yes, he knows too well.

Long story short, Finn’s been going out with Poe for nearly three months now. Exactly, pretty Poe, the prettiest person ever in the entire world, probably.

The boy who asked him out after many history lessons of looking at each other in secret, and talks of doing homework together that only resulted in giggling and gushing about Hozier.

Well, Rey thinks it’s about time they became official. Like, officially a couple.

She does this because she loves Finn, and she loves them, and yes, he wants Poe to be his boyfriend, so badly, it’s sort of unbelievable he hasn’t asked him already.

But see, he doesn’t know how.

Or of course, he knows the words, but it’s like, whenever he’s with Poe, his mind implodes and revels in whatever they’re doing, and at the end of the day, he’s none the wiser.

They’re on the way to class, and they’re gonna be late either way, so Finn asks his best friend, “I know. But, you know, what if… I mean, what if he doesn’t want to?”

Rey still looks at him in all her stubbornness, but rubs her shoulder, clearly sensing his worry.

His worry goes deep, because yes, they’ve been going out for three months, but, you know, Poe’s like the star of this school. Star of the student council, if anything.

Finn just can’t help doubting himself. Wondering, Poe’s too good for him, or maybe, Poe hasn’t asked him because what they have, what made him ask out Finn isn’t there for him anymore.

He hopes none of that is the case. But he’s always had a habit of overthinking.

“I love you.” she tells him, a certainty in her voice, tugging on his arm just a bit so they won’t be in real trouble with Ms. Holdo, “And he’s so lost in you. I know it’s scary, but he isn’t asking, and if you don’t ask, nothing’s gonna happen.”

She’s right. So right.

So he links their arms and runs down the hall, figuring it speaks louder than words.

…

Finn finds himself thinking a lot.

This isn’t exactly unusual, but, you know, sometimes he overthinks.

Seriously, he knows he needs to ask Poe already.

But his concerns aren’t crazy, okay?

He’s actually already met Poe’s mom, last month, albeit it wasn’t planned. It was maybe too fast. They’re going fast. Or what?

Rey’s assured him enough times now that three months is a perfectly healthy time to become an item, or whatever you call it.

It’s not like they’re popular. Poe’s got a bit of hype, but he’s not at the top of the food chain.

And you know, reputation isn’t all that matters.

Or he tries to tell himself that, because what if it is to Poe?

Before his best friend made him promise to make the move, as she calls it, she was visibly upset, perhaps more than himself, when the other boy hadn’t asked him first.

Maybe he’s just as nervous as Finn. Like, it’s valid, right?

But also, Poe’s been in a couple of relationships before, and yes, that might not sound like much, but Finn’s never been serious with anyone prior to this.

And he didn’t really think it would bother him until now, where Finn ponders his inexperience, and might be edging towards a mental breakdown in the middle of the history lesson, when said boy on his mind touches his hand under the table.

Yes, Rey was only bitter for a few days when the boys started sitting together, “leaving her behind”, as she called it. But she doesn’t really mind now that Rose transferred, he’s sure.

Finn always thinks Poe wants to borrow a pencil when he touches his hand, or has a question, or something mundane.

But he might be getting used to Poe reaching out just for the sake of the touch, sooner or later.

Only the other boy whispers when Ms. Holdo has her back turned, “You okay?”

Oh, so he can tell. That’s great.

No, really, it’s great, because this boy’s so empathetic, when he’s not fiercely protective, or sarcastically defensive.

Finn wonders if he’s thinking of the same thing.

He actually got started on a question last time, some form of it, anyway, but they were not so generously interrupted by some of Poe’s friends, Jess and Snap, he’s pretty sure. That scared him off. Embarrassing, he knows.

Besides, it was like, ten minutes, and Poe seemed just as embarrassed, and they more or less cheered them on. Lovebirds, they called them.

“Ignore them, please.” the other boy told him, like, a million times. He was so cute blushing like that.

If only Finn hadn’t abruptly chickened out when he tried to get the question, instead distracting Poe with whatever he saw first, which, very fitting, was ice cream.

Man, the other boy eats so much ice cream, he has to admit he’s slightly worried about his health.

He’s got a lot of things to worry about, huh.

“Of course I am.” he whispers back, and fuck, he’s just barely caught when Ms. Holdo turns around, and he’s got this feeling like Poe doesn’t believe him, but the conversation’s over like that.

The boy’s smile is a reassurance. A little bit, at least.

…

Is he avoiding Poe? Or is Poe avoiding him?

Finn doesn’t really know, to be honest.

They haven’t seen each other in, what, four days now, because he’s letting his head get the best of him, and he declined the boy’s offer to accompany him for the football game, instead having another nerve wracking conversation, filled with possible ways his crush could call them off.

Rey probably thinks he’s overdramatic, but she doesn’t say, and spends a good two hours calming him down, because she’s lovely.

It isn’t just a crush anymore, Finn realises.

God, he likes him, so much.

And on their last date, it started raining, like in every cheesy teen movie ever, and when he couldn’t hide that he was freezing, Poe, of course, gave him his jacket.

It’s just too much.

Not long after his phone call with Rey, his roommate returns from the game, and Rose tells him that Poe missed him.

Does that make him feel good or bad?

They text a lot.

Like, late into the night a lot, to a point where his sleep schedule might’ve gone for the worse. He’ll restore it sooner or later.

Anyway, Poe seemed like he had something on his mind yesterday. At least, he was taking a while to answer, and usually, his texts keep flying almost a second after Finn’s replied.

But whatever he felt coming never came. The other boy had to go, that is, and Finn thought, maybe this time, he’ll ask.

Or maybe he was looking for a sensitive way to break up. Shit. He wouldn’t break up with him via text, though, surely? Poe’s respectable. He’s got manners.

Or maybe the world just doesn’t want them to communicate anymore, ever, and will just continue to interrupt them, which is rude and totally unfair.

Even at the library this guy, honestly, he can’t remember the name for his life, but this guy had some issue with a suggestion of Poe’s in the council, which he apparently felt the need to bring up then.

The curly haired boy in front of him gave an, “I’m kind of busy, right now.” three times before the other student, finally, minded his own business.

Maybe Poe thinks Finn doesn’t want him around him anymore after avoiding him. Why does he do this?

He hates conflict. It can die in a pit.

Even though it isn’t a conflict, like his best friend so wisely told him, maybe he’s just a bit stupid, or maybe his worst nightmare is true and Poe doesn’t want anything serious.

His head feels like it might explode.

The girl discarding her shoes shoots him a weird look.

Of course, she can tell he’s nervous, just as much as Rey, or probably anyone else, at this point, but Rose has developed a sense of knowing when Finn needs to be left alone.

So, she brews them both tea and lays down with her headphones on, but not before handing him something cold and metal, which turns out to be a pin.

It’s a tiny yellow sun.

Finn doesn’t have to ask who it’s from, or who he’s hoping it’s from, anyway, because the boy is so utterly cheesy that he’s compared him to sunshine on more than one occasion.

Even more cheesy that Poe got him a gift relating to a stupid nickname. But also, he loves it. Loves it a little too much.

It’s ridiculous.

So he’ll opt to sleep now, tugging Poe’s jacket a bit tighter around him.

…

Poe’s suggested to skip school today, and Rey swears she’ll nag Finn to no end if he doesn’t go along, so here he is.

Of course this boy wants to get ice cream.

And of course he knows a perfect place, as he says, which, surprisingly, is a junkyard filled with old cars, which Finn sees little wrong with.

He’s pretty sure the rich people in this stupid town probably discard these for the newest model. Poe laughs and agrees when he voices his thought.

When they’re side by side on a blue Corvette hood, ice cream and marshmallows long gone, it’s silent, except the other boy’s humming.

Maybe this is the right time. Or the worst time. Wait, he can’t think like that, he should listen to Rey.

Finn might as well get it over with, if the worst case scenario is really gonna happen, right?

And so he decides to open his mouth with his thought along with him, only Poe does the same, and there’s a small cluster of “Hey-”s and “Oh-”s and “Sorry”s.

So maybe the boy has decided to end it on a good note, like a goodbye date.

Could be worse, right?

“I was thinking, uh…” Poe begins, but it doesn’t seem to end, and Finn nods him along, and sits up straighter, maybe it’ll be easier to bite the emotion in him like that.

“Yeah?”

The boy chuckles at himself.

It’s like he doesn’t want to look at him, cause he’s keeping his eyes on his lap, but then, gaze turning towards Finn again and biting his lip.

“Do you want to be my boyfriend?”

And Finn’s ready to deflect, to shrug off the hurt, get up and leave, when, holy shit, what did he just say?

Exactly the thing he wants him to say? Exactly the thing he wants to say? Unbelievable.

He’s got to have a few seconds to process that. Which is probably what makes Poe freak out, because he’s suddenly, almost, taking the words back, “If you think it’s too fast I understand, I-”

“No!” he exclaims. A bit louder than he wanted, alright, good thing this yard’s practically abandoned.

“No, Poe, I really want that. Like, oh my god.”

“Really?”

The nods are eager, and Poe’s smiling so much brighter now. Finn can barely hold himself from copying it.

“But seriously, I thought you’d break up, or I mean, stop our dates or something.”

Now that offended look is familiar, has Poe been spending time with Rey? Could fool him, at least.

He almost gasps, which reminds Finn how truly ridiculous he is, when he’s not keeping up his status in debate.

“Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?” he asks, and yes, is the answer, and Finn can’t help feeling bad, so he tries to make it better by touching his hand, the same way the other boy’s got the habit to in class.

“Yeah, I mean, I thought maybe I wasn’t good enough.”

Now Poe looks distraught, like Finn told him a puppy died or something, and Finn wants to shrug it off, but the boy meets his lips before he gets the chance.

Okay, he would call this a rude interruption, if he didn’t like this so much. He’ll let it slide, just this once.

“Who put that idea into your head?” Poe says, like he’s already out of breath, it’s adorable, “You’re, like, God. Too good to be true.”

And instead of answering Finn continues this cycle of kissing his boyfriend’s lips and cheek and neck, really, they’re a lot better at this than talking.

It’s so much nicer than talking too, but Poe has to finish his sentence, he assumes, “I would’ve asked sooner, you know. But I feel like everyone keeps interrupting us lately.”

It’s like their minds are one, Finn’s sure Rey’s gonna roll her eyes at them after this.

He almost can’t speak when they’re both laughing, and Poe’s touching his face, now, that’s what’ll take up his mind, “Me too.”

Honestly, Finn would let the boy say more, if he wasn’t his boyfriend now, right, so when Poe is starting on a rant of those exact problems, there’s really no other choice than direct him away from the negativity and back to kissing him again, because he loves his voice, but that’s just about enough talking now, he thinks.

“Boyfriend?” and of course, Poe laughs again at that, tipping his head back, but quick to turn his gaze back, because every quirk just makes him even more pretty.

“Yes?”

And he replies, “Can I interrupt you, though?”, not even waiting for an answer before he’s pulling him in for the millionth kiss, it seems, cupping his neck and tugging on his hair.

It’s impossible that Poe can smile even wider, surely, but he does.

“I guess I’ll allow it.”

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ilusionis · 4 years

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THE MEGA RP PLOTTING SHEET / MEME.

First and foremost, recall that no one is perfect, we all have witnessed some plotting once which did not went too well, be it because of us or our partner. So here have this, which may help for future plotting. It’s a lot! Yes, but perhaps give your partners some insight? Anyway BOLD what fully applies, italicize if only somewhat.

Mun Name: vinn (or ila, for close friends) Age: 22 Contact: IM, discord

Character(s) I rp: aizen sosuke on here, askin nakk ke vaar (@ levaer) and lille barro (@ firstritter, sideblog) Which muse(s) inspires you the most atm?(for MM): all of them actually. Current Fandom(s): bleach. Fandom(s) you have an AU for: none. i’ve been debating about making a modern au but i wouldn’t be sure what to explore in it. within the context of bleach, though, i’m very interested in developing a bunch of AUs. My language(s): i’m only confident in writing in italian or english. Themes I’m interested in for rp: Fantasy / Science fiction / Horror / Western / Romance / Thriller / Mystery / Dystopia / Adventure / Modern / Erotic / Crime / Mythology / Classic / History / Renaissance / Medieval / Ancient / War / Family / Politics / Religion / School / Adulthood / Childhood / Apocalyptic / Gods / Sport / Music / Science / Fights / Angst / Smut / Drama / etc. Themes/Genres you have an AU for: none.

Preferred Thread length: one-liner / 1 para / 2 para / 3+ / novella. Asks can be send by: Mutuals / Non-Mutuals / Personals / Anons. Can Asks be continued?: YES / NO only by Mutuals?: YES / NO. Preferred thread type: crack / casual nothing too deep / serious / deep as heck. Is realism / research important for you in certain themes?: YES / NO. Are you atm open for new plots?: YES / NO / DEPENDS. Do you handle your draft / ask - count well?: YES / NO / SOMEWHAT. How long do you usually take to reply?: 24h / 1 week / 2 weeks / 3+ / months / years. I’m okay with interacting: original characters / a relative of my character (an oc) / duplicates / my fandom / crossovers / multi-muses / self-inserts / people with no AU verse for my fandom / canon-divergent portrayals / au-versions (as main or only verse). Do you post more ic or occ?: IC / OOC. Are you selective with following others?: YES / NO / DEPENDS.

Best ways to approach you for rp/plotting: if you want to plot, it would be best to send me an IM and ask me, then we can definitely move to discord if you’d rather. it’s possible to approach me for rp without plotting first, best way would be to send me a meme when i reblog them or simply an ic ask, which i will answer, while memes might get lost. ic asks are good ice-breakers, we can continue plotting from there.

What expectations do you hold towards your plotting partner: i need my partners to be as interested in our plot as i am. it would be great if you already have an idea, but it’s still good if you don’t, i get that coming up with ideas can be hard sometimes; mostly, i require honesty. you can definitely tell me that you got no ideas and i will do my best to help, ask questions, try to spark something. i do require the feeling of having that commitment reciprocated.

When you notice the plotting is rather one-sided, what do you do?: i tend to straight up drop the conversation lmao. no hard feelings, but if i get the feeling you’re not interested, i will take my distance - i won’t waste my energy on a plot if my partner doesn’t share my enthusiasm. still, you can always approach me again, if you’re feeling up to it / have new ideas / whatever. nice thing of online convos is that they don’t have an expiration date lol.

How do you usually plot with others, do you give input or leave most work towards your partner?: i always ask if they got any ideas to begin with. if my partner already knows, more or less, what kind of dynamic they wanna build with my character(s), that makes it infinitely easier to build something meaningful. it’s still fine if they don’t, i will usually ask a lot of questions regarding their muse’s opinions / feelings / etc., and try to navigate from there. a question i usually ask is: is there any aspect of your muse you’d like to explore? i think that’s a pivotal point in any interaction.

When a partner drops the thread, do you wish to know?: YES / NO / DEPENDS. - And why?: if they feel like telling me, why not. but usually, i don’t warn when i drop a thread, so it’s not expected of my partners ever. - What should your partner do when dropping a thread?: nothing in particular tbh. they can tell me or approach me to start a new thread if they wish to, but it’s not required.

What could possibly lead you to drop a thread?: i might lose interest in a thread, especially if i feel like it’s going nowhere or if the inspiration for it simply doesn’t come. it’s never happened so far that i had to drop a thread because it was making me uncomfortable, but that could still be a reason for me to. in general, though, i would approach my partner in that case. - Will you tell your partner?: YES / NO / DEPENDS.

Is communication in the rpc important to you? YES / NO. - And why?: absolutely. i’d rather avoid awkward situations or misunderstandings of any kind; if something’s up, tell me. i also like to communicate with my writing partners (be it in the tags of our threads or in IMs), makes me feel like the enthusiasm is not one-sided and i find it generally pleasant. - Are you okay with absolute honesty, even if it may means hearing something negative about you and/or portrayal?: sure. we gotta stay polite, but honest. - Do you think you can handle such situation in a mature way? YES / NO.

Why do you rp again, is there a goal?: to have fun, to cultivate my writing skills and my english, and to explore my favorite characters.

Wishlist, be it plots or scenarios: i want to develop aizen’s wandenreich verse, because i’m deep in quincy hell and i think his dynamics with quincy muses could be super interesting. anything involving the intricacies of bleach politics is super interesting to me, be it with aizen or with my two quincy muses - who, btw, are also good to explore dynamics between quincies / their culture / relationships etc.

Themes I won’t ever rp / explore: i won’t write anything pertaining to sexual assault.

What Type of Starters do you prefer / dislike, can’t work with?: it’s gotten difficult to work with starters such as “you summoned me / do you need anything / did you call for me” etc. i used to receive that kind of starters all the time with aizen, and i can’t come up with something new every damn time. i also have a hard time working with starters / replies that already feel like a closed conversation and don’t give me anything to reply to.

What type of characters catch your interest the most?: i’m not sure i have a type. aizen is pretty much an exception, the only example of an already well-built character i write, since i tend to gravitate around minor ones that don’t have much material and that i can work on and expand without being affected by the fandom’s opinion or whatever. somehow i always tend to rp tall guys-

What type of characters catch your interest the least?: children and teenagers don’t interest me for the most part. characters who don’t have a shred of an opinion or can’t offer any interesting conflicts. overly friendly, mushy, affectionate and flowery characters are really not my cup of tea either.

What are your strong aspects as rp partner?: oh god i have no idea. i’m very laid-back, i guess. i’ll never pressure my partners for replies, i don’t think i’m owed a reply in the first place because we all have lives offline, so i’ll never take it to heart if a partner drops a thread. if i really feel like our roleplaying styles don’t mesh, it will be at my own discretion to do something about it. another strong aspect i have ....... i think i have a decent grasp on all my muses? especially aizen. of course ur free to disagree lol. also, lately i’ve been p active, so that’s it.

What are your weak aspects as rp partner?: i’m really slow. i might speed up for my closest friends, with whom i plot / rp regularly, but usually i take quite some time to reply to random unplotted threads. i probably have a thousand other flaws as a rper, but this is the biggest one that comes to my mind rn.

Do you rp smut?: YES / NO. Do you prefer to go into detail?: YES / NO / DEPENDS. Are you okay with black curtain?: YES / NO. - When do you rp smut? More out of fun or character development?: i don’t write detailed sex scenes. sorry lmao they’re just not interesting to me. however, i’m super-ok with writing anything around it, like intimate scenes etc. in fact i find it somewhat soothing. - Anything you would not want to rp there?: the nitty-gritty part is already a no, but i guess also sexual violence and shit like that. it’s a no.

Are ships important to you?: YES / NO. Would you say your blog is ship-focused?: YES / NO. Do you use read more?: YES / NO / SOMETIMES. Are you: Multi-Ship / Single-Ship / Dual-Ship — Multiverse / Singleverse. - What do you love to explore the most in your ships?: all my ships are with snow 8′) and ur never bored with her. in general, i love being able to explore the muses’ relationships, their conflicts and their peaceful moments, especially in relation to canon events! - What is your smut tag?: nsfw / ........ my n*sfw posts are rare anyway.

Are you okay with pre-established relationships?: YES / NO. - And what kind of ones?: to an extent, i prefer pre-est relationships to first meetings - which they can get a bit dull after some time. i’m ok with mostly anything, and only more selective when it comes to relationships that might severely alter my muse’s canon / past / overall character.

► SECTION ABOUT YOUR MUSE.

- What could possibly make your Muse interesting towards others, why should they rp with this particular character of yours now, what possible plots do they offer?: not to stroke my own feathers but aizen offers a perfect chance at character development to any and all bleach characters. he’s the main villain, he holds some wild opinions, and whether you agree or disagree with him, he leaves no one indifferent. aizen is the main cornerstone of bleach, and if you want your muse to questions themselves and the system / world around them, interacting with him is the best way to start. also, aizen interacted with a fuckton of people, knows practically everything there is to know, is responsible for significant amount of canon events, so you see ... whatever character you write, aizen has the full potential to be extremely relevant in the course of their development.

- With what type of Muses do you usually struggle to rp with?: children, ordinary low-ranked shinigami (i find it hard when it’s out of the blue, even in aizen’s captain and lieutenant verses ... because interactions would likely be only work-related, and won’t go far), characters whose personalities really have nothing to do with aizen. unfortunately, he’s not my easiest muse, and i don’t want to force interactions with him. - With what type of Muses do they usually work well with?: characters who have opinions, some political involvement, in general characters with whom aizen had a dynamic in canon.

- What interests your Muse(s) in general: reading, calligraphy, philosophy (especially in-world philosophy), science (again, mostly related to the specificity of the bleach universe), the very careful crafting of his plan- - What do they desire, is their goal?: kill the soul king and take its place, destroy the institutions of soul society, subdue them. and then rule, as the soul king never did before. - What catches their interest first when meeting someone new?: the idiosyncracies in their behavior, the particularities, their possible weaknesses. - What do they value in a person?: very little, usually. he may appreciate a resolute personality, strength, and intelligence. - What themes do they like talking about?: speaking mostly of mundane talks, he likes conversing about his interests. it takes a lot for him to share any personal information, though. - Which themes bore them?: anything about the greater good, friendship, love, very human topics.

- Did they ever went through something traumatic?: seeing the soul king, in all things like a ghost stalking his dreams, and well ... spending his early life in rukongai as a whole. being forced to consume other souls in order to survive. the first times his reiatsu killed anyone who tried to get near him. - What could possibly trigger them?: it’s rare that he will outwardly show signs of distress, i’d say almost impossible. the few times the soul king still appears in his mind, greatly upsets him though. - What could set them off, enrage them?: the soul king gets him particularly heated. urahara, as we witnessed. after his defeat, ichigo, to an extent. - What could lead to an instant kill?: kubo was a coward who didn’t dare let him kill any relevant character, but actually aizen kills very liberally.

- Is there someone /-thing they hate?: the soul king, urahara. he has a strong disdain for yamamoto, and that joke of C46. - Is there someone /-thing they love?: himself. tousen

Is your Muse easy to approach?: YES / NO. - Best ways to approach them?: he’s only really easy to approach for bleach characters, who, depending on who they are, have different eligible verses to further facilitate the interaction. humans / powerless bleach characters can’t really interact with him tho. - Where are they usually to find?: soul society or hueco mundo. i have a verse set in the wandenreich.

Something you may still want to point out about your muse?: aizen is not a particularly easy muse, but it’s part of his overall mosaic to be somewhat unapproachable and distant. i’m not out to make him someone he is not, so forgive me in advance if plotting with me turns out to be difficult in a way or another. he’s very dear to me, and i try my best to do him justice! while my main headcanons may not affect our interactions specifically, i still ask my partners to look them up (they’re linked in my about page) because they’re essential to my portrayal and it makes me happy to have them acknowledged. i think that’s all lmao. come visit me over at my quincy boys too.

CONGRATS!!! You managed it, now tag your mutuals! ♥

Tagged by: @skyvar I DID IT AT LAST. Tagging: i don’t know who has been tagged so, you know what to do.

#ooc.#whew #this took forever

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peacheenie · 4 years

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hl1/2 gordon scentric hc time

im rly feeling half life in this chillis tonight so....some....hc’s about everyones favourite free man, i have a lot so enjoy

-he’s actually mute and uses sign language but only about 50% of the time cuz people either don’t know what he’s saying or he can’t do it whilst holding like 20 different guns/weapons to protect himself so instead he makes big gestures a lot or writes down what hes trying to say (pretty much everyone at black mesa could understand him via sign language so he was very comfortable using it, during hl2 however he has to keep reminding himself not everyone is fluent and it frustrates him to no end)

-when he tries to speak it hurts and the most sound he can make is mumbles or little sqeaks so if theres ever a time he needs to alert someone to dangers reeeal quick he ends up hurting his throat a lot to try and make some kind of warning noise thats loud enough, he can hum tho and enjoys humming along to music as well as when he’s signing to try and convey some kind of emotion along with his facial features of which he emotes a LOT

-his hand writing looks like that of an actual dotors and its neat cursive but very hard to read so if he’s trying to write as a form of communication he just defaults to caps with big spaces inbetween and people (barney) tease him about it constantly (barney)

- hes incredibly short sighted without his glasses and ends up squinting a lot without them on and since he’s usualy default bitch facing he just looks very angry all the time when really he just cant see anything please dont be offended sir he didnt mean to upset you

-is actually very scared all the time abt like everything, hes literally just a scientist who just happened to be “the right man in the wrong place” and was just so determined to try and save those around him during the cascade that he pushed thorough his fears and anxiety to try and get the job done but he def has some form of ptsd after it all, barnicles specifically really freak him out because getting strangled and slowly lifted off of the ground into a row of razor sharp teeth is fucking TERRIFYING and he wouldnt wish it on anyone

-only reason he knows how to use guns is because barney would regularly take him down to the shooting range during their breaks and they’d see who could shoot straightest after a few drinks, barney would always win.

-after hl1 when he was put into stasis and he wakes up in hl2 hes lost like 20 years of his life and hates that fact terribly, all his friends have aged around him but hes still in his 20′s when he shouldnt be and he hates it so fucking much

-he also finds himself missing the feeling of the HEV suit terribly during the begining of his re-awakening in city 17, he’d grown so used to the feeling of it on him and keeping him safe that it makes him anxious without it and the cold air on his hands is also uncomfortable so he prefers wearing gloves all the time, when he finally gets the HEV suit back it feels like a weight has been lifted and he can finally stop worrying, the suits voice is also a comforting sound beccause its familiar and a sign that he’s not alone, same goes with the healing station and suit charging noises; they’re a comforting sound to hear and he enjoys humming along to the vrwwwrrrr vrrwwrrr vrwrrrrwr the machine makes when he plugs into the port

-he worries about overdosing on the healing stations a lot though; the morphone they give out is indefinite and once during the casade he’d passed out from taking to much and woken up to a zombie very slowly approaching him from down a corridoor but with how drowzy he was it was it was a horrible struggle to lift the gun and fire between dozing in and out

-he gets attached to people quickly since also during the cascade days he’d regularly meet people in danger who only had him to keep them safe so he tries his absolute hardest to make sure he can protect people even if that means he gets shot in the process, the suit usually protects him/heals him anyway so he’s used to it and if theres danger he almost default/automatically moves infront of people to make sure they’re okay without any concern for his own safety

-he also reeeally likes antlions and will pet them any chance he gets, he tried to do it when he first saw them and almost lost a hand so it makes him upset he has to kill them but when he finally gets the bug bite from the vorts? ohhhhohohoh he pets so many antlions, it again makes him sad he has to use them as like fodder for turrets and stuff but if an antlion comes back to him after taking down a turret or killing a combine he gives them extra pets and becomes a very proud papa

-since hes technically in his 30′s (and would be nearing his 40′s had he not been in stasis) he feels more of a big brother/fatherly bond toward Alyx since he’d also met her as a baby and finds any romantic involvement with her awkward, (so Elli’s comment on him “wanting grandkids” he ends up slapping the man on the arm with a frown to which Eli just laughs) this doesn’t help his attachment issue though so when they have to seperate to do things away from the other he worries for her safety even though she constantly assures him she can take care of herself and he KNOWS she can. he still really can’t help but worry though...

after hl2 ep2:

-when eli dies i dont like to think they all straight away go to mossman and instead get to spend some time mourning at the base, this gives gordon some time to finally sit down and relax for a little bit but he finds it incredibly hard to even take off the HEV suit at first because to him there was no passage of time between being put into stasis and waking up in city 17 all those years later; he’d closed his eyes, went into the portal and then the next second awakened in a completely unfamiliar place, in unfamiliar clothes with unfamiliar people (he definitely had a panic attack before geting off that very first train) and the thought of that happening again when he’s not prepared is terrifying.

-when he does finally take off the suit (after a lot of helping and reasuring from alyx, kleiner and barney a LOT from barney; theyre very good friends (;) he takes to wearing very comfy and heavy clothes such as jumpers, ponchos etc as well as a bullet proof vest because it makes him feel safe, the HEV suit gloves he retires entirely cuz theyre gross, definitely covered in his own blood and have been through hell so instead he has a bunch of different pairs he cycles through depending on how he feels that people around the base give him after learning about his fondness towards them

-he secretly carries a gun around with him even when they’re not in any danger becaus it’s another added layer of security and becaus he literally can’t trust things to not go bad EVER; now though nothing will go wrong again on his watch because he’ll be ready for it!! this really doesn’t help with his nerves though since he’s constantly looking for something to go wrong

scene specific hc’s:

-i always think abt that one specific sene in the train that gets derailed where alyx is trapped by a stalker and gordon has to pull it away with his gravity gun and i always imagine him franticly pulling it away with so much alarm on his face and such panic, when shes free though and has to stop to catch her breath gordon would give her a hug and make sure she’s okay cuz it must have been terrifying to have that thing screaming inches from ur face, gordon just instantly goes into protect mode

-another scene that always comes to mind is when you first encounter an advisor and it makes that horrid loud noise where alyx is holding her head; i imagine gordon almost dropping the gravity gun in a panic to try and cover his ears because he doesn’t handle loud noises too well and it freaks him out so much alyx has to help him get out of the room since he kind of locks up on hearing it

-same goes when you get trapped by an advisor in a barn and almost become food for it; gordon is absolutely terrified at getting so up and close without being able to move that when it finally does drop him he starts hyperventilating and alyx has to protect him from the oncoming combine for a little while before he can catch his breath

-last scenes but some of my favorites are the ENTIRE sections of gordon being up close with breen,

first being the teleporter malfunctioning and when gordons heavy breathing i imagine hes trying super hard not to start freaking out/hyperventilating and when breens doing his “i want that twink obliterated” spiel and then looks up and says his name, gordon almost looses it and internally is like AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

second is when youre trapped in that like...metal contraption thing the stalkers are carried in and brought to breens officce and that entire section where breen is talking directly TO YOU i just adore it becausee gordon would have been looking away awkwardly unable to actually respond and furrowing his eyebrows at the nerve breen has upon thinking you would ever agree to any such terms and would definitely also spit in breens face as a response just like alyx did since he can’t use words

okay that is all, if you read all of these you’re amazing and i love u and also gordon hes an amazing “character” because i can insert as many of my own quirks into him as i please because valve literally never gave him a personallity :^)

#half life #half life 2 #gordon freeman #headcanon #long post #text post #headcanons #ive been meaning to compile all this stuff into one for years now so here you go this is my gordon hes a mess

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peaky-shelby · 5 years

Text

When he sees me [4]

Pairing: Chris Evans x oc

Summary: Delilah is a simple shy girl. What will happen when famous actor, Chris Evans sees her? Will she hide, will she run again? Will he make her come out of hiding instead?

Episode 4: The one with the double date

Read: prologue, episode 1, episode 2 , episode 3

Words: 2.656

Based on When he sees me by Sara Bereilles

Warnings: mentions of sex, awkwardness, fluff, mentions of anxiety and Sebastian Stan.

Author’s note: this one is practically the begging of the story. The beginning of the battle that Delilah will have to go through. Will they survive? Thanks again for reading and please don’t forget leave your thoughts💘 and if you stop answering I’ll just assume that you want me to stop tagging you♥️

On the drive from the club to the house Delilah didn’t shut up. She kept mumbling about all these reasons why the double date was not a good idea. A part of her knew that Laura wasn’t really listening but she kept going. You see, she talks a lot when she has something to say.

”how could you think of something like that?„ Delilah shut the door to their apartment and threw her back on the nearest chair, her entire body was shaking, her mind was a maze, she had so many things to say, so many worries to express and she couldn’t get them together. She kept pacing back and forth like she was trying to find her sense around the room.

“Would you calm down? I think It’s the perfect idea and everything will go alright—„

“You thought ‘stole his car’ was a metaphor for sleeping with him! Excuse me but I don’t trust your judgment. How am I supposed to go on a double date? I don’t even go on alone dates—„

“This is exactly why I suggested it, you needed a date—„

“I didn’t Laura! That’s my point! I’m happy! Maybe I haven’t dated in a while but that doesn’t mean I’m sad! I don’t need a date, i need to be calm and right now I’m not calm!„

“For God’s Shake Chris Evans asked you out—„

“No!„ She paused her pace and pointed at Laura “It was your idea! He’s just too kind to say anything! You forced him in to asking me out and now it’s going to be a disaster—„

Laura rolled her eyes and went to the kitchen to make herself some tea. She had witnessed these kind of meltdowns many times, soon it would be over. “Or maybe it will be a really fun night!„

“Well we’ll never know cuz I’m not going!„ Delilah left the living room and went to her bedroom, she sat on her bed, trying to keep her body still but her leg kept trembling against the ground. She heard Laura’s sigh from the kitchen and she could imagine her rolling her eyes again. After her 4th meltdown, Laura stopped getting worried, instead she’d use her wit and sarcasm to help, it was more efficient.

“If you keep hitting your foot against the floor, Ms. Reynolds will come shouting again.„ she said entering the room with two cups of tea. Delilah lifted her feet and sat with her legs crossed on her bed. Then Laura handed her one of the cups and sat next to her.

“This is madness! I can’t even go out with the cat guy across the hall and I’m supposed to go on date with Chris Evans? What am I even going to say?„

“Pff that’s obvious!„

“Is it?„

“If you went out with America’s president you’d talk about politics, so considering you’re going out with America’s ass you can talk about butts„ Laura sipped her tea, looking at Delilah cheekily.

“Here im having a serious problems which you created and you’re making jokes—„

“Oh D, come on, what’s your serious problem?! That You have a date with America’s Ass?„

“Stop calling him that!„

“You’re being a child! I get it you’re worried but you have nothing to lose! No matter the out come we are going out with Sebastian Stan and Chris Evans and you’re sitting here whining about what may or may not happen instead of spending your time trying to find the right dress! Literally a child!„

Delilah didn’t respond. She looked down at her cup, saw her reflection in the tea. It was a blur, exactly how she felt on the inside, a blur. Laura wasn’t wrong, she knew that but she couldn’t just ignore the anxiety that she was feeling about the coming night. Her thoughts came to a pause when Laura placed her hand on her shoulder “I’ll be with you, watching everything, if it gets really bad, I’ll drag you out of there myself but don’t let that noise in your head take away this amazing chance. It’s just noise Delilah, just noise. But he is real and right now he is worrying about you the same way you are worrying about him, if he wanted to say no, he would have said no.„ she smiled, pushed Delilah on shoulder gently to make her look up. “But he didn’t.„

Delilah raised her head, her eyes connecting with her friend’s. Laura was her safety net, the one person in the world her head made no noise about. She was always sure about their friendship, they were a family, chasing dreams in LA. Somehow Laura would always find a way to convince her into doing things, she usually wouldn’t. Maybe that was because she knew deep down that even if things went completely sideways, Laura would be there to catch her. Even if she was the one that pushed her off the cliff in the first place.

“I have been on a date in so long I’ve forgotten how to do it.„

Laura laughed “hun, that’s exactly why I’m here! I got experience on that area.„

“Right yeah.. last night, I think you got a little more experience in that area.„

Laura giggled and nodded “yeah I think I did!„

“How did that happen?„ asked Delilah.

“I don’t know... it wasn’t supposed to happen. I had met him ones or twice before in different events, we kept in touch and last night we got a little tipsy and you know.. things just happened.„

“So you like him?„

“Yeah, Yeah I do and I don’t think it’s just fun and games.. he’s a nice one D. I got a good feeling about it.„

“Well I guess we’ll find out tonight.„ Delilah smiled.

They spent the rest of their time, arguing about what they were going to wear. Laura wanted to go with a sexy kind of style, whilst Delilah wanted to keep it simple. At one point they even had a clothes war, Dresses, pants and shirts were thrown all over the house. In the end Laura wore a white top with a portrait neck and a short black flower skirt. Delilah wore a blue dress with flutter sleeves.

As planned Chris and Sebastian were under their house at 8. Delilah saw them arriving in Chris’ car from the window and she instantly panicked.

“I don’t wanna go!„ she whined. Laura ignored her cries and held her arm, pulling her with her out of their apartment.

“There’s my girl!„ Sebastian walked over to Laura immediately “I’ve been waiting to kiss these lips all day.„ he said, leaning down and acting on his wish. Delilah laughed as she watched them, she kinda wanted that but she was too scared to ask for it.

“Hey.„ his voice was like a summer evening breeze. It awoke her from her meaningless thoughts in such a calming way. His tall presence behind her, warmed her entire body even tho he wasn’t touching her. Slowly she turned and looked at him, her cheeks slightly blushing under his watch.

“Hi.„

“You look really pretty.„ he said. This is a good start, she thought and smiled.

“Thank you, you too.„

At that moment ditching Laura and Sebastian and staying alone with Chris didn’t seem such a bad idea but—

“Alright! Let’s go! Come on, I’m hungry!„ said Sebastian.

Chris was driving, Delilah was shotgun and Sebastian and Laura were in the back. They couldn’t keep their hands to each other for the whole drive.

“Goodness if they keep going like that they’ll eat each other.„ whispered Delilah, hoping only Chris would hear.

“Sebastian did say he was hungry.„

“Ewww!„ She exclaimed in a high pitched voice making Chris laugh at her reaction.

“Try not to make babies in the restaurant!„ advised Chris, when they arrived at the restaurant. They all followed him in, Delilah was right behind him, hidden by his tall body and the other two were only a few steps behind. The waiter showed them to their table, Laura made sure that they’d sit in the right way for Delilah to be next to Chris.

During the night he’d noticed the little things, how her laughter differed when she actually found something funny from when she was just been kind. How excited she’d get to talk about her favorite books and theater and how she’d let her mind wonder from time to time in thoughts only she could hear. And In that moment while she was talking with Sebastian and Laura about books, he caught himself staring at her . She looked like the ocean in her blue dress, natural and yet ethereal. He could only see the right side of her face, a strand of her was covering her rosy cheek so in a very gentle movement he stretched his hand and moved her hair behind her ear. She looked at him as soon as she felt his warm hand against her skin. Chris pulled his hand back quickly, idiot— that was so weird why would you do that?

“Sebastian don’t we have this thing to go to?„ Said Laura unexpectedly.

“What thing?„

That question got him a punch in the shoulder.

“Oh the thiiiiing— Yeah we should go to the thing.„

“you don’t have a car„ Delilah tried to stop her friend from leaving.

“We’ll get an Uber!„ answered Sebastian

“You should know every nice love story starts with an Uber—„ Laura was cut off by Delilah’s murderous look. “Lets go before she kills me!„

Sebastian left money on the table for Chris and left with Laura. Chris and Delilah didn’t say anything for a couple of minutes, it’s like they had forgotten how two humans communicate.

“What do you think the thing is?„ asked Chris, trying to make a conversation. Obviously there is no thing, She probably thinks I’m an idiot.

“Obviously there is no thing. I mean there’s his thing which she’ll be getting—„ Delilah’s cheeks blushed immediately after she said the joke and she let her head drop on the table, feeling like a total idiot. “God I’m so sorry— that was really inappropriate I had too much whine—„

Chris laughed, she’s adorable.

“It’s alright— you’re probably right.„

She giggled at his reassurance, he tapped her on the shoulder so she’d look at him and smirked “wanna get out of here too?„

“Honestly? Yeah.„

“Lets go I have an idea.„

“Goodness this is so cheesy“ she whispered getting out of the car. Chris chuckled at her comment.

“I’m sorry it’s the best I could come up with last minute.„

“Well I’m not complaining, I’m just saying—„

“It’s cheesy.„ he completed her sentence, making her laugh a little.

Living in a LA for the last 3 years this was actually the first time she had gone on Mount Lee at night. The view was beautiful, the lights of the street looked like diamonds, the world looked so peaceful from up here, like a painted picture.

“You always see the Hollywood sign from down there... it’s so weird to be up here looking down there.„ she smiled, tilting her head to look at him “it’s cheesy but it’s beautiful.„

Chris looked down at her with so much affection. Night has never looked so beautiful on a person, it was like it was tailored for her to wear it.

“You know... when you are in Hollywood, so deep in the fuss of it, the fame and the craziness you forget how beautiful it is as a place. The history, the magic, the secrets, the art...everything about it. So I like to come up here, enjoy the view and remember.... and I feel so privileged to be able to say that I’m part of it, not because of the fame or the money but the—„

“History.„ she finished his sentence like he had done earlier “..and the beauty.„ she added in a whisper making him smile. He took a step forward and turned his whole body to her.

This is the perfect moment, right? She wants me to kiss her. I’ll just do it, but I’ll go in slow in case she wants to stop me— please don’t stop me. I bet her lips taste like caramel. Only a few inches closer, just a little bit—

Delilah stopped him by placing her hand on his chest. Chris looked at her worried but she wasn’t even looking at him, she was watching something behind him.

“I think there are two people doing it behind the bush.„ she whispered, trying not to laugh. Chris immediately turned and sure enough there were two people behind the bush totally getting it. He tried his hardest to contain his laughter but Delilah gave up and broke down in chuckles.

“Let’s get out of here!„ he suggested and pulled her with him to the car. When they got in they both started laughing like kids and Chris drove away quickly. And when they were in a fair distance he asked her if she wanted to go home and Delilah said yes.

“This is it.„ she whispered when they arrived. Chris smiled at her, he wanted her to stay.

“We should do something again.„

“I’d really like that.„ she whispered and leaned in to gave him a gentle peck on the cheek. His beard stroked her face, making her heart flutter. Their connection was so tender and sweet. She pulled away and gave him one last smile before she exited the car. Chris watched her leave until last minute he remembered:

“Oh god the bracelet!„ he got off the car and run to her. “Sorry! I almost forgot!„

“What happened?„

“You lost this, again.„ he pulled the bracelet out of his pocket and placed it on her hands. “Next time I’ll find it, I’ll keep it!„ he added. Delilah laughed and nodded.

“I’ll be more careful I promise. Thank you Chris!„

They stood still for a moment. Chris was only looking at her not saying anything. “There’s one more thing..„ he started saying.

Do it. Kiss her. If it wasn’t for the pervs making out in the bushes, she would have kissed you. Kiss her.

He stepped closer and curled her hair behind her ear, Delilah watched his movements carefully, her heart was about to drop out of her chest but she wasn’t going to stop him.

He leaned closer and closer and closer until there was no space between them and his lips met hers. It was quick and sweet, only a little peck on her lips and nothing more but Delilah was still feeling like he stole her voice and her breath. She opened her eyes and found him looking at her with his golden eyes like he was asking for permission to kiss her again. She gave it to him with a simple smile and Chris moved closer to her, kissing her one more time. His right hand was placed gently on her cheek while she had very awkwardly placed her hand on his hips, holding on his jacket. She had forgotten how to do this, it was like it was her first time. Chris sensed her struggle and pulled away, giving her a reassuring smile. Delilah giggled in embarrassment and looked away. “I’m sorry..I— I’m not used to this. I..should really go.„ her anxiety was very slowly but surely raising from her toes up to her head and she knew that soon the noise would start playing in her mind. She had to leave before he could hear it. The giggles stopped and she stepped away from him. He nodded and waved “goodnight..I’ll call you„ he smiled.

“Goodnight Chris.„

She walked in the building and fast in her apartment. Shutting the door and as soon as she did that the noise began.

Taglist:

@annoyinglydarktriumph-us @purely-myself-03 @yelyahcardella @tessvillegas @thejemersoninferno

#imagines #love #chris evans x oc #chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #steve rogers #marvel #mcu #actors

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