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scarletwinterxx · 3 years

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that time i knew i liked you too

as always, I was melting everytime the dreamies release new content. Hyuck just looked so adorable I cannot handle it. So here’s another scenario with him😊🌻

for my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2020 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

“No no put me down, let me at him. Jeno, put me down” you said as you trash around Jeno’s shoulder. How you got there is a repeated story that always starts when you and Haechan are in the same room.

“No, you’re going to hurt someone”

“Yea, I’m going to hurt him. Let me down, stop using your strength on me” you pounded your palms against his back but he just continued walking further away from Renjun who was holding Haechan back from you

“Would it hurt the two of you to just admit you like each other?” you hear Jaemin ask from beside you “Want to get smacked too? for the last time I don’t like him”

Jeno finally put you back down on your feet, the two guys looking at you with a ‘we don’t believe you but we’ll pretend we do’ look

“I don’t!”

“Mhm, sure we’ll go with that” Jeno told you with a smile, his eyes disappearing completely while he does. This time instead of manhandling you, he just threw his arm casually around your shoulder but you know he’s trying to make sure you won’t run back to where Haechan was.

“There’s a very thin line between love and hate” Jaemin mumbled, you looked over at him with a glare making the boy shoot his hands up in surrender.

The chaotic relationship between you and Haechan started with friendly banters, he was a natural joker, the mood maker of the group. You on the other hand, is the exact opposite.

When you exchanged schools, only knowing your cousin Jeno, he was quick to introduce to his group of friends. Ofcourse they were very nice and welcoming, you were on the same year as the four of them: Renjun, Jeno, Jaemin and Haechan. Soon after that you became an honorary member of that group, girls and some guys would sometimes ask favors from you to set them up with the guys. This always made you wonder why, not really understanding the craze other people have over your friends. In your eyes they were pretty normal, at times weird most times too loud.

“Remember that time you threw a tantrum when someone asked you to give Haechan their valentine favor”

You scowled at the memory, last year during valentines one girl came up to you asking you to give Haechan her card and chocolates. You were too shy to say no, so after school was finished and you were all waiting in the parking lot, you all but practically shoved the box of chocolates to Haechan. The rest of the guys cheering but you cut them off by saying it wasn’t from you.

“I did not. I was just not having a great day that day”

“Sure, you should see the look on his face when you said it didn’t come from you” Jeno said making you look over at him “Why? How did he look?” you asked, your curiosity getting the best of you

“Wouldn’t you like to know” Jaemin teased you

It is true you both get on each other nerves, there’s one little thing that contradicts everything that just came out of your mouth though.

You do like Haechan, more than you will ever care to admit. You’d rather be dead than ever admit you like him. Because at the end of the day, even when you two want to rip each other’s head off, you always end up together somehow.

The next day you were waiting for Jeno to finish his last class since he picked you up this morning, sitting outside on one of the empty benches with book in hand. You were too emerged on your reading material that you didn’t notice the figure now sitting in front of you. Only when you turned the page and craned your neck to stretch it you did you notice the guy sitting across from you,

“What the fuck! How long have you been there?” You asked Haechan, holding your book against your chest. “Long enough to notice how bad your posture is” he answered

“Says the guy who can’t sit or stand straight” you mumbled, closing the book and tucking it away in your bag

“If I were you, I’d be nice to the guy who’ll be driving me home”

“I don’t see Jeno here” you said looking around you, your cousin nowhere in sight. “No stupid, he has basketball practice. He asked me to drive you home”

You just shot him a blank look, for a couple of seconds he just shot you the same look before standing up

“Have it your way, I can just leave you here” then started to walk towards the parking lot. Scowling at his retreating figure, you quickly threw your bag over your shoulder following Haechan’s steps.

He can already hear your hurried steps, a faint smile forming on his lips but he quickly shook it away. Acting nonchalant when you finally caught up with him,

“No, you won’t. Jeno will have your ass if leave me”

“No, he won’t”

“Oh yea my bad, you don’t have an ass” he looked over at you, tongue poking the inside of his cheek. Silently daring you to repeat what you just said, so just send him a big sarcastic smile

“Watch it, babe. Don’t bite what you can’t chew”

“I don’t even know what that means, but let’s just pretend I do for your sake” You pat him on the shoulder before walking ahead. For awhile, neither of you said anything. A random playlist was playing while Haechan hums along, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.

“Hyuck”

Haechan looked quickly over at you, your attention was focused on the scenery outside. If he could, he would look at you a little bit longer but he didn’t to be too obvious and that would be dangerous. So he just hummed as an answer,

“huh?” you asked, looking over at him

“What?”

“What do you mean what?”

“You called my name?”

“Oh I was just thinking about it, I didn’t know I said it outloud” you mumbled, you really didn’t mean to say it outloud. You were just looking out the sunset, it reminded you of his nickname which then made you think of his name.

“You were thinking about me?” he chuckled

“I’d rather not comment on that” then it was silent again, thankful that he didn’t push it any further.

“Want to grab something to eat?” he asked, this made you look over at him “I heard there’s this new café in town” he added.

“Tell me the truth, can you read minds?” you asked him, you were just thinking about that too. You were planning to go later today after he dropped you off, maybe ask Jeno to come with after his practice but it makes more sense to just go now. You just didn’t expect Haechan to ask you

“Only yours” he said with a smirk, sending you quick side eye. You rolled your eyes at him, “Can we go though?” you asked

And that is how you find yourself at the new café with your frenemy and kind of crush, Lee Haechan. You happily entered the place, taking in the smell of coffee and cake in the air,

“Are you a dog? Stop sniffing” You hear Haechan say from behind you “Can’t help it, it smells so good. Oh my god is that chocolate cake” your attention was already on the rows of cake displayed. Completely missing the fond look on Haechan’s face as he watch you excitedly look at the snacks.

He won’t say it but he finds it so adorable how happy you get with just the little simple stuff.

“Do you want that? What do you want to drink?”

“Vanilla latte for me” you smiled up at him, for a second Haechan forgot how to breath forgot how to act around you. You were smiling so genuinely at him he wasn’t sure what to feel.

“How about you?”

“Will you eat all the cake again or will you actually share it this time?” he asked back, dismissing his previous thoughts before you notice anything weird happening.

“I don’t recall doing such thing”

“Mhm sure, sweetheart. I have three other guys as witnesses” you scowled at him before turning back to the cake

Haechan ordered your drinks and cake while you sat outside and wait for him, you offered to split the bill but he just pushed you towards the door when you tried to pay for your food. Like he literally pushed you out

“Wipe that pout off, here’s your cake” at the sound of his voice, you put your phone down and smiled up at him. Well more at the plate of food he was holding

“Have I told you you’re my favorite?” you teased him, making the boy chuckle at you. You were already diving into the snack, happily swaying one hand in the air.

“I’m starting to think you only like me when I give you food”

“You’re thinking right” you answered straight away to tease him, chuckling when you felt him lightly kick you under the table.

Later that day when you were finally home and was doing some homework, Jeno came over to check on you

“You made it home in one piece, that could only mean Haechan didn’t”

“Can’t say he will be missed” you replied, not even bothering to look up

“You will though” this made you glare up at your cousin, “Why are you here again?”

“Oh right, well me and the guys plus a couple of other friends are going out of town this weekend, want to come with us?”

“When, where and who?”

“The guys, girls on some of our classes and Mark hyung is coming too. We’re renting a house with a pool, it looks really cool and we’ll stay there from Saturday til Sunday afternoon maybe”

You contemplated whether you wanted to come or not, it did sound fun. Plus you feel like you do need the time off anyways.

“I thought you hated each other” Jaemin said, looking between you and Haechan who is sporting the same look of boredom and annoyance. It’s currently 4am, kind of freezing outside and the guys are still loading the car with stuff.

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed” Renjun added, that earned a glare from Haechan and you.

“Who else are we waiting for?” You grumbled, you wanted to get in the car and get some more sleep. Almost regretting ever agreeing to come to this trip, you felt a tug on your jacket sleeve. Looking over at Haechan who was holding out his coffee to you, you just shook your head at him. You liked drinking coffee, but iced americano is not something you’d ever opt to order

“The girls are meeting us there, they said” Jeno answered you

“So who’s going in whose car?” Renjun asked, looking around the group

“Who’s driving again?” you asked, “Jeno and Haechan”

You looked over at the boy leaning beside you, “You’re driving? You look like you’re about to pass out”

“That’s why I’m drinking this”

“I’ll go wherever I can sleep for the duration of this trip” Jaemin said, already walking towards Jeno’s jeep getting in the passenger seat.

“How about you?” Jeno asked you, “I’m with Jaemin, I don’t really care as long as I can sleep some more”

“Backseat is still pretty spacious, make yourself comfortable” he said then opened the car door for you, doing exactly what your cousin just said.

“I thought you were going with Haechan” Jaemin said from the front seat, “Don’t start with me right now, let me sleep then you can bug me about him later”

The rest of the trip you were sleeping soundly at the backseat, the two boys talking amongst themselves. It was a four hour car ride so by the time you got to the vacation house it’s still too early for lunch.

“Who wants to go to the grocery with me?” Jaemin asked, Renjun saying he’ll come with and pulling Haechan along with him

Hours later when they got back and finished unloading all the food for the weekend, you were just lounging around. Some of the guys were by the pool while you were in the lounge area with Jaemin and Jisung when Jeno and Haechan showed up. You were happily snacking on some cookies you when Haechan spotted you, Jeno immediately noticing Haechan’s gaze on you and the cookies you were holding

“Please tell me you you’re not going to fight over cookies”

“Will that make you happy?” Haechan asked his friend to which Jeno nodded as an answer, “Too bad then, give me back my cookies” Haechan turned his attention back to you, reaching out to grab the bag of treats

“I don’t see your name written here, plus I was the one who told Jaemin to get it at the grocery store”

“I went with him to the grocery store”

“Should’ve bought your own cookies then”

“I did! Those are mine”

The two of you were too busy arguing to notice the other guys have left the room to join the others outside, leaving you and Haechan alone in the lounge area. You sat on the opposite sides of the big couch, just chilling when Haechan walked in demanding to give his cookies back

“I’ll give you five seconds to give it back”

“Oooh I’m so scared”

“5, 4, 3” just as you were about to take another cookie from the bag, you feel his hand clamp around your ankle then pulling you towards the other side of the couch where he was sitting.

Now your legs are draped on his lap while his arms rest on them, “You said 5!”

Haechan just glared at you before snatching the bag out of your hands and taking some cookies for himself

“Leave some for me” you said as you try to reach for the bag “No, you already ate half of it”.

You scowled at him until he gave the bag back to you, not even moving from your current position since you are pretty comfortable and the boy don’t seem to mind. Already busy scrolling through his phone,

“Why aren’t you downstairs with the guys? I heard the girls arrived too”

“Too tired”

“I heard Yeji came today”

“Mhm”

“You know she gave you those chocolates last year for valentines, right?”

“Like you would ever let me forget” he was still scrolling through his phone, one hand resting on top of your legs comfortably. If any of the boys walk in on you know they’d probably shoot you weird looks but when it’s just the two of you, you don’t really fight like cats and dogs.

“Don’t you like, like her back atleast?”

“Why?”

“I mean she said she liked you, don’t you think it’s a bit mean to not talk to her after that. Plus,. I think she came so she could spend some time with you and yet here you are hiding away”

“Well maybe I like spending time with you”

You looked at him like he told you the most ridiculous and confusing fact, Haechan looking over at you when you didn’t reply back to him

“What’s that look for?”

“Who are you and what have you done to Haechan?” You asked, leaning over to put a hand over his forehead. He just chuckled at you, swatting your hand away

“I just got the chills when you said that”

“Like the good kind of chills?” he teased, “No, the kind that’s making me want to throw up kind of chills” you sarcastically replied

He scowled at you, pushing your legs off of him before standing up. “You know, it’s not that hard to just admit it”

“Admit what?”

“That you actually like hanging out with me”

“I never said I didn’t, even if you get on my last nerves”

“I like keeping you on your toes, baby. I’ll be outside if you miss me” he winked at you then walked out the lounge area.

What just happened? Was he flirting with you? Did he know? You thought to yourself.

And boy does he love getting on your last nerve. You will never assume that he’s doing thing on purpose just to piss you off, but after your conversation with him he’s been talking more to Yeji the whole day.

He’s naturally friendly and affectionate, no one can argue that. And it’s not like you have a right to be jealous, your pride is too high to admit Jaemin’s actually right.

You do like Haechan.

So what do you do? you mope around without meaning to, the boiys noticing your change in mood throughout the night.

You were just standing beside Jaemin as he grill the meat for dinner, not really saying much

“You’re going to burn holes to the ground if you keep staring at it like that” Jaemin said as he look over at your brooding figure

“Let me be, I don’t any place else to be”

“Uh how about hanging out with our friends”

“Your friends” you mumbled making Jaemin laugh at you, “Oh my god, I cannot with you. If it bother’s you this much, just admit it already. It will save us both the time and emotional stress”

“Hiw are you getting stressed, I’m literally not even saying anything here” you told him, lightly hitting him on the back.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the garden area, Haechan was watching you and Jaemin. Not in a creepy way though. He just happen to notice you’ve been missing, only to find you standing by the grill with his bestfriend

“Yah Jeno, is there something going on with Y/N and Jaemin?” Haechan can’t help but ask when Jaemin laughed at something you just said

“Huh?”

“I mean they always hang out”

“Yea, well they’re friends” Jeno shrugged, “We’re friends too” Haechan grumbled, taking a big gulp of the drink Jeno just put on the table

“Are you perhaps jealous of the two?” Jeno asked, “Absolutely not, I was just asking”

“Well, don’t tell Jaemin I told you this but I think he’s going to ask her out this weekend” that was a complete and total lie, he only said that to push Haechan to finally do something. And judging by the way he’s now practically glaring over your make makes Jeno think he did the right thing.

“I heard you even went out on a date with him” Jaemin said, making you look at him with confusion

“Huh? When?” “The other day when he had an emergency practice”

“We just went to the cafe, it wasn’t a date”

“Right, right. Because that’s how you spend time with a person you don’t like”

“I don’t don’t like him”

“So you like him?”

“If i say yes will you stop?”

“I-” “Say yes to what?” Someone said from behind you, making Jaemin stop his sentence.

Haechan looked back and forth between you and Jaemin, while Jeno looked like he was about to laugh.

“Nothing” you answered quickly before Jaemin could utter another word, then skipped away to where the others were. Jeno was shooting his bestfriend with the ‘just go with it’ expression before Haechan catches on

“What was that about?” Haechan asked, “Oh I was just asking her something” Jaemin answered with a cheeky smile

He couldn’t have asked her already, right? Haechan thought. As the night went on, he can’t help but notice how you were obviously avoiding him. You looked like you were enjoying yourself when the guys invited you to play beerpong with them while this time he’s the one moping around.

When you went inside to get something from the kitchen, Haechan immediately shoot up from his seat to follow you. Itching to ask you if Jaemin asked you out or not.

“You think he’ll ask her out?” Jeno asked as he watch Haechan follow you, “Huh? Haechan? Why what did you tell him?” Jaemin asked back

“That you were going to ask Y/N out”

“Bro what the fuck, he’s going to kill me if I do”

You on the other hand had no idea about this, so when Haechan cornered you in the kitchen suffice to say you were pretty shocked,

“Did you say yes to Jaemin?” he asked

“Say yes to what?”

“Didn’t he ask you out?”

“Huh?” you asked confused, Jaemin definitely did not ask you out. You know for a fact that he’s currently crushing on the new girl, Yoo Jimin.

“No?”

“Are you not sure or you just don’t want to tell me”

“I’m so confused, one why would Jaemin ask me out and two why would I not want to tell you?” You asked, geniunely confused with him. “Because”

“Because?” you urged for him to continue

“God! You’re really going to make me say it first will you?” he sounded so frustrated you almost laughed, “I don’t know what you want to say Haechan, but please go ahead because like I said I’m very confused right now”

It took him approximately five seconds to think about his next actions, he counted up to three in his head before saying screw it then the next thing he know he was grabbing you by the waist, his lips on yours.

You definitely did not expect that this is how your weekend will turn out, and you most definitely not think you would end up kissing Haechan. But here you were, trapped between the counter and him. His arms secured around your frame while your hands were resting on his arms.

It’s like your mind and body were to separate entities, not one part of a single body because in your mind you were freaking out but your body was acting like this was how it was supposed to be all along.

When the two of you eventually had to come up for air, you can’t help but stare at him

“What was that?” you whispered, his forehead resting on yours

“Me shooting my shot”

Then you were laughing, Haechan looked at you like you just lost your mind

“You know this is the part where you say it worked”

“I- wait hold up. You like me?” you asked him, “You liked me first!” he screeched, pointing a finger at himself

“Says who?”

“Says your cousin, then Jaemin and Renjun. Then you” You made a mental note to hit those three guys later

“Me? Just the other day I almost punched you in the face. If that was your indication of me liking you then you’re really messed up in the head”

“So you’re saying you don’t like me?” he asked, this time with a more serious look on his face.

“I could neither confirm nor deny” you answered, trying to rile him up even more. You already know the answer, but it was nice to see Haechan like this.

“You know in my head, this wasn’t how I imagined this moment would turn out”

“Oh so you imagined kissing me” he smirked you, “As much you imagined kissing me” you retorted back, you had him there.

“And?”

“A bit underwhelming, not gonna lie”

That made Haechan do the thing you think is so attractive but never told a single soul because it was your secret, it’s when he pokes the inside of his cheeks with his tongue whenever he’s annoyed or things don’t go his way.

“Are you saying I’m not a good kisser?”

“I’m saying it could be better” you shrugged, enjoying your new found power over him. It was short lived though because the next thing you know you were thrown over his shoulder then he was walking back out the patio.

“Yah, Haechan don’t hurt her. I need to bring her back in one piece” you hear Jeno say

“Sure, but it’s fine if she’s a bit wet right?”

“What?” you screamed then you were thrown in the pool, quickly resurfacing to the surface to see Haechan smirking at you. Instead of saying anything you just swam towards the ledge, hoisting yourself out the pool.

“You look like you need a hug” you shot him a wicked smile as you walk towards him, you can hear cheers and laughter coming from your friends

“No thank you, baby. Maybe later”

“Come here”

“Don’t want to”

“No more kisses for you. 3 2″ then you were back in the pool again but this time Haechan was in there with you. Laughing as you watch him shake his hair out of his face,

“Stop laughing you look like a wet dog” he said as he swam towards you, arms snaking your waist once again. As his lips close on your once again, you can’t help but smile. You’re pretty sure you heard your friends scream but all of that was background noise, it’s just you and him now.

“How about that? Am I a good kisser now?”

“I don’t know, maybe try again”

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ukaibitches · 3 years

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First Date With Haikyuu Boys

Daichi, Sugawara, Ukai, Kuroo, Bokuto x reader

content: gn!reader, fluff

a/n: hi guys!! it’s our fist hc, we hope you like ‘em. pls send us requests and share our blog! thank you for reading :)

Daichi (coffee date)

Daichi asks you casually during lunch break

he’s waiting for you outside your class at the end of your school day

while you two are walking towards the coffee shop, he asks about your day and seems to be excited to tell you about his

you go to a local café, nothing too fancy

he picks an isolated table so you can have a calm conversation with no worries

he asks for a cappuccino and you ask for your favorite drink. You two ordered a strawberry shortcake to share.

the cafe’s atmosphere is really chill and relaxing. there are many fake plants to compose a natural environment.

the conversation died for a second and Daichi started talking with a big smile forming on his face:

“(y/n), I’ve been wanting to invite you on a date for so long! I’m so glad you accepted. I hope you’re having a good time.”

all the time you spent together that afternoon was lovely. You felt really especial.

he drops you home as soon as the sunset started

and you’re already planning your next date together

Sugawara (picnic date)

he asks you during the weekend, going to your house, since you two are neighbors

you go to a park close your houses on a sunny Sunday afternoon

Suga prepares all the snacks you’ll be having at the picnic: sandwiches, fruits, your favorite juice and some homemade candies

he is dressed casually, yet very stylishly and you’re in comfortable light clothes

you look amazing and he reminds you of it plenty of times

Since you also likes to play volleyball, even as a hobby, you bring a volley ball and the two of you play for some time while you talk about school, life and future

When you are both sitting and eating the food he made, you compliment his cooking and he confesses:

“I have to say I always had a little crush on you, since we were kids... Your smile is my favorite, (y/n)”

you feel your cheeks becoming warmer and he notices because he knows you for so long

after a long afternoon full of conversations and laughing, you two go back home together and spend the rest of the day texting each other and planning to hang out more times

Ukai (rainy night)

you’re the literature teacher in Karasuno high-school

the volleyball coach has been catching your eyes for while. You have been flirting for weeks but nothing too serious has happened yet

Ukai asks if you want to have dinner with him at his store on Friday and you obviously accepted

When the volleyball training ended, you walk to his store together with a group of Karasuno’s students: Hinata, Nishinoya, Tanaka and Kageyama

The boys suspect that something is going on between you and their coach. It is quite obvious tbh...

When the students leave, you comment on them knowing about what is happening between the two of you

“I really don’t care about what they think about us. It is our personal lives”, he responds looking at you

the dinner for tonight is two delicious katsudon prepared by him

you never knew he liked cooking

When you finished eating, there was the BIGGEST storm outside and Ukai invited you to stay the night at his place which is the store’s upper floor

you accept, thinking it may be a little awkward but it’s okay ‘cause he’s hot af

his house is small but it has everything he needs

you came up with the greatest idea to prevent an awkward silence:

“Keishin, have you ever watched ‘10 Things I Hate About You??’”

your movie night made everything easier. Now you were under a blanket, side by side, the closest you have ever been

suddenly, you feel a weight falling on your shoulder. Ukai has fallen asleep next to you. It’s the first time you’ve seen him that relaxed and calm

you lay your head on top of his and have a tranquil night, beside your crush. And he has a tranquil night beside his

Kuroo (study date)

you ask him for help in chemistry (cliché)

you two go to your house together right after class

you go direct to your room and you make sure he is comfortable. He sits on your bed and you follow him

opening your books, you two start studying and you ask all your questions, receiving clear answers since he is a genius

after a while, you start getting tired of seeing elements and equations and start talking about random subjects

Kuroo, as usual, tells a lot of bad puns and you laugh a lot somehow. This is one of his favorite things about you: your bad good sense of humor

you notice how he’s looking at you and get flustered. he’s looking at the most beautiful person he knows

“what are you looking at?” you ask curious

“I’m looking at my future girlfriend” he replies in a flirty tone

you blush really badly but surely don��t deny it...

Bokuto (festival date)

you are Fukurodani’s manager

the team was in a match against Nekoma and Bokuto had entered his ‘emo mode’

you tell him that, if he won the game, you can go to a festival together on the weekend

he automatically becomes the most focused he could ever be

at the end of the match, Fukurodani wins with Bokuto’s perfect match point followed by a wink that confirms your date on Saturday night

as the day arrived, you become nervous. you’re happy that you finally had the opportunity and the courage to invite him but you’re still afraid something will go wrong

he picks you up at 8 pm, dressed casually and looking handsome as always

as soon as he sees you, Bokuto compliments your looks and your nervousness disappears right away

the night is starry and the climate is perfect for a festival

you eat a lot and play various games. at the end of the night, you’re sure it was the best date you’ve ever had

and then the fireworks started

Bokuto is SO excited

you can’t stop looking at him. He is way more entertaining than the fireworks

he catches you starring and gives you the largest smile. you smile back

you keep wondering when will be the next time you’ll see that lovely smile and hope it wont be the last

hope you enjoyed!

pls don’t repost our work :)

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kim-seungmine · 4 years

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moonlit

title: moonlit

characters: fem!reader x lee minho (lee know) of stray kids feat. bang chan, kim seungmin, hwang hyunjin, kid!yang jeongin

genres: exes to lovers au, romance, angst, based on eternal sunshine of the spotless mind, chan’s one sided love if you squint real hard, bff!seungjin.

warnings: cursing, mentions of drinking and food, mentions of insecurity/emptiness, minho is lowkey a flirt (and smooth af), this one is WORDY, sometimes nonlinear (flashbacks marked in italics, phase 2 completely happens in the past), lots of inner conflicts, watch me repeat the same words again and again.

word count: 14k

synopsis: after a nasty breakup, you have lee minho clinically erased from your mind... only to be reminded that while memories can be erased and forgotten, feelings will always demand to be felt.

Phase 1: Awakening

You clamp your shaking legs together, desperately trying to look like you’ve got it all together. The carton box on your lap feels heavier with each passing second as you wait for your name to be called. When the receptionist finally tells you to enter the consulting room, your head is full of him. His laugh, his voice, his touches, his smile, his empty promises, his lies, his last words…

This is why you’re doing this. You want him gone.

“Miss Y/N, please have a seat.” The doctor, Seo Changbin, motions at you to sit at the back of the room. A nurse places a tripod in front of you, setting the camera so it will capture your whole body. “Your sessions will be recorded, and we will keep all the recordings as archive. These recordings are confidential unless they’re needed for national security purposes. And, of course, if you wish to get your memories back in the future.”

Dr. Seo smiles, the calming tone in his voice doesn’t match the weight of his words. “You… you can restore the memories back?”

“I can’t,” he answers. “Patients are usually able to remember some past memories when triggered. And at least you will be reminded of why you want to do the erasure procedure in the first place. There are a lot of patients who regret doing this, and the last thing we want is to get sued because people make the wrong choices for themselves. I’m sure you have already read that part on the consent form.”

Great, you’re going to stop him from messing with your head by letting strangers literally damaging your brain.

“I won’t sue you. Let’s get this over with.”

“Sure.” Dr. Seo points at the camera. “Now, tell us everything, starting with who you want to erase.”

You grip your box tighter, as if to check if all the things inside still cause you pain no matter how many times you’ve seen them. You could have done this the normal way—crying, cutting your hair, even turning to God for help.

The thing is, one of these days the pain is going to swallow you up, and then you’ll be left with nothing. Nothing but an empty shell.

You should have been able to do this the normal way, but you’re too weak. Can’t you be weak for once? You can, right?

Clearing your throat, you stare at the lens. “Lee Minho.”

“Lee Minho,” you repeat. Louder. Clearer. “I’d like to erase Lee Minho.”

Chan finishes his beer in one gulp while you’re still struggling to open yours. It’s a shame, really—you drink almost every week, he drinks twice a year. He tosses the now empty can to the trashcan before opening another with ease, handing it to you. Mumbling a quiet thank you, you take a sip and watch him tear a pack of dried squids open.

“You’ll never go to those parties again,” he says. “I didn’t know my parents invited you because of that.”

You shake your head. “It’s fine. They meant well.”

He pulls his hair in frustration. “I can’t believe they said that in front of everyone! You must’ve been so shocked. I’m sorry.”

You grimace, the unwanted attention was indeed quite embarrassing. Enough to make you politely reject the next time Chan’s parents invite you to another gala. Mr. and Mrs. Bang have always been supportive of their eldest son, letting Chan started his own business instead of taking over the family business. Chan’s mother had called you a few days prior, asking you to accompany her son since it would be a good opportunity to “build connection and expand your business.”

You and Chan did exactly that, so it wasn’t like they were lying. But Chan’s parents also used the opportunity to try to convince the two of you that you’re match made in heaven.

“Can we drop this?” You glance at your watch, stretching your limbs before rising from your seat. The traffic light turns red and you signal at your best friend to walk faster. “I keep getting flashbacks of CEO Kang’s son laughing at us.

Chan follows suit, placing his hand at the small of your back before crossing the street. You let out a relieved sigh when you reach the warm subway station. “Kang Younghyun has more embarrassing incidents than ours combined,” he scoffs. “This is nothing compared high school. No worries.”

“You sure you don’t want me to take you home?” he asks as you train is arriving. “I should’ve brought the car instead of letting my parents drive us to the party.”

You click your tongue at him. “Then you’ll miss the last train.”

“I can take a cab home. You always fall sleep on the train it’s giving me headache!”

“Bang Chan.”

The train stops and opens its doors. “Fine,” he mumbles. “Just don’t fall asleep.”

“No promises!” you tease, stepping into the train a second before it closes. You wave at Chan until he disappears into a small dot before choosing the seat beside the door. The train is almost empty; standing near the door is a high school student listening to an online lecture and sitting across you is…. the most attractive man you’ve ever seen in your life. He meets your eyes for a second before shifting his attention back to his phone again, leaving you slightly disappointed.

You despise socializing at parties but you want the Hottest Man Alive to talk to you? Y/N you’re so pathetic.

The sight of a bundle of name cards inside your purse is what gives you a reality check, various names and faces are popping up in your mind. Only now you feel how exhausted you are, parties and talking to a bunch of strangers have never been your thing. You take your platform heels off just as the train makes its stop, one of them almost hitting Hottest Man Alive as a result.

Apparently God has decided to make you the embarrassment icon of the day.

“I’m so sorry!” you panic, about to reach your flying heel when he stands up and picks it up. He silently places it in front of you before pulling out a card out of his pocket.

“It’s okay, just check out our café when you have time.” Hottest Man Alive slips the card into your palm, rendering you speechless with his bashful smile.

Oh, you’re not going to fall asleep at all tonight.

You run your eyes over the black embossed letters once more, trying to calm your erratic heartbeat as you mentally convince yourself that he does want you to pay his café a visit. Your whole life has always been normal, so alarmingly calm and peaceful it makes you question your whole existence. Sometimes it feels like you’re living in someone else’s dream, foreign and temporary. Uncertain and insecure.

Last night was… weird, to say the least. You’ve never felt that attracted to someone before, not even your ex-boyfriends. In that moment, you felt unstoppable, carefree, happy… everything that wasn’t you.

Sadly, that moment didn’t last long and now you’re back to your overthinking self. What if he was just playing with you? Will he find you desperate or, God forbid, easy if you actually show up at his café? But what café owners don’t want a new customer? Besides, you’re bringing Chan, so Hottest Man Alive (or Lee Minho, according to his name card) is getting two new customers. If anything, he will be thanking you and hoping you will come again, just like any normal business owner.

“Hey,” Chan calls out to you, knocking on the car window. “We’re here, daydreamer.”

You shove the card back into your wallet, met with Chan’s confused eyes when you finally open the door. “You okay?” He cocks an eyebrow. “You look so out of it.”

Chan knows nothing about your encounter with Hottest Man Alive; he would’ve freaked out if he knew you wanted to visit a café because a random (handsome) stranger told you so. “Just thirsty. It’s so hot,” you mumble.

Eat Here Café gives off the homey atmosphere that immediately calms your nerves. You quickly scan the whole building, looking for any sign of Hottest Man Alive. You feel lighter yet bummed that he’s not there, except for some photos of him with a group of children pinned on the wall.

You choose a table near the cashier. “I’ll order. What do you want?”

Chan shrugs. “Any kind of cake.”

The puppy-like part timer greets you with a smile when you reach the counter. “Good afternoon, what would you like to order?”

“Injeolmi bingsu and Coke, please. Oh, and a vanilla cake!”

He repeats your order politely and you decide that you like the boy, taking a glance at his nametag that says Kim Seungmin. You never really pay attention to part timers before, but this one is remarkably efficient, polite, and very very cute (in a “I’d like to adopt him!” way).

You drop some cash into the tipping jar, the twinkle in Seungmin’s eyes feels so rewarding that you’re ready to put it into your “little things that made my day” on your journal later. He hands you the buzzer with a bright smile. “Please wait for your order!”

“Your stingy ass never gives such a generous tip. Did he flirt with you or something?” Chan marvels—loud enough to get Seungmin’s attention—when you return to your table. There are times when you regret being Chan’s business partner, but you realize that you’ve invested so much of your time and energy into building the company. That, and Chan is actually a dependable friend when he’s not trying to ruin your image.

Chan gets your order after the buzzer vibrates, digging into his cake right away. “Whoa this is good!” he exclaims. “How did you find this place?”

“…Instagram.”

“Do you think they hired a branding consultant already?”

You shake your head. “They post pretty regularly but I don’t think so.”

Chan’s eyes sparkle. “Do you think we should ask to meet the owner or something?”

“Hey Seungmin, iced Americano please! And remind me to pay your bonus later.”

The faintly familiar voice stops you from answering, your eyes wildly searching for the source. And there he is… the one you’ve been dreading to meet and also the one you’ve been yearning to meet. Lee Minho saunters into the café with his charming bunny smile and soft eyes, earning everyone’s attention except for Seungmin who’s still taking orders.

Seungmin only replies with a short hum, not taking his eyes off the cash register. You glance at Minho, mentally surprised by the way he doesn’t seem to be bothered with how Seungmin treats him.

“Quit staring before you start embarrassing yourself,” Chan warns you in the most boring tone. “I think he’s the owner.”

You almost spit out your drink. “I’m not staring!”

Minho exchanges some words with Seungmin before focusing his attention to all the customers. Your bingsu is melting, but you still follow his every move through your peripheral vision, not knowing whether you want him to recognize you.

“You really came!”

Chan points at himself, then at you. “Us?”

Minho shifts his gaze to Chan like he didn’t even notice the dimpled man was there whole time.

“Ah… y-yes,” you stutter. “This is very a nice café.”

One look at Chan and you know there’s no way for you to hide anymore. “He invited me!” you quip. “I mean, us.”

“Do you have anyone handling your social media accounts? Planning the digital marketing? Creating ads?” You have bombarded Minho with questions before Chan says anything, skipping the whole small talk step in “how to smoothly intrigue clients” manual.

Seungmin arrives with Minho’s iced Americano, putting the tall glass in front of him with no words before smiling at you and Chan. “Does any of you want anything else?”

“Yes, please,” Minho interrupts before you can refuse. “Please order whatever you want, it’s on the house.”

“Pulling the boss card, huh?” Chan jokes. “Then I’ll have orange juice.”

“Y/N?”

You didn’t have a chance to try the vanilla cake Chan ordered because he inhales food instead of digesting them, but the chocolate ice cream looks beyond tempting—

Minho chuckles. “How about our vanilla and chocolate ice cream?”

“Did I say that out loud?” you mumble to yourself, but proceed to thank Minho for his suggestions and tell Seungmin you’d like to have those. Minho flashes you a soft smile, almost making you melt on the spot if it weren’t for Chan’s leg kicking yours.

The conversation continues without any embarrassing incident. Chan lets you do all the talking, only adding further details when necessary while Minho asks you challenging but intriguing questions you answer passionately.

The so-called meeting ends with Minho promising to sign the contract by next week and Chan shaking your hand under the table, both confused and impressed.

“Is that why your employees are so relaxed around you? Because you just want everyone to eat and live well? I swear Seungmin didn’t even try to curse discreetly when you told him to wipe the counter for the 5th time,” you ask.

Minho laughs as the said boy exits his station, backpack slung across his shoulder. “Yes I’ll transfer your money after our guests leave. Don’t you dare remind me again!” the former yells playfully before the part timer opens his mouth. Seungmin bows to you and Chan before scowling at his boss. “You’re the one who told me to—nevermind. See you tomorrow, hyung.”

“I really like that boy,” you coo when Seungmin closes the door.

“I treat them as my friends,” Minho says. “I decided to do this because I just want to help everyone, including my employees. I don’t want Eat Here to be one of those expensive, pretentious cafes. I just want everyone to eat what they want, that’s why we have all sorts of things here. Combination of Eastern and Western, stuff like that. But this is still business, I have to do things to keep it running, right?”

You’ve met a lot of people with beautiful visions, but you’ve never met someone who wants something so simple yet complicated like Minho. It’s been quite a long time since you’re genuinely excited for a project, and now you know why Chan didn’t freak out upon knowing that you met Minho on the train.

“You guys can do whatever you want,” Minho adds, waving to a pair of part timers clocking in. “Are you going back to the office?”

Chan stretches his limbs. “Yeah,” he groans. “Gotta make sure our intern doesn’t jam the printer again.”

Your phone rings the moment Chan finishes his sentence. ”You jinxed it! Hyunjin is calling.”

“Whatever it is, wait until we’re back!” you whisper-yell at your intern.

“But noona, the printer—”

You give Hyunjin no chance to blabber about one specific printer and end the call. Minho giggles at your antiques, and you don’t have the energy to stop yourself from admiring his pretty features in the most obvious ways possible.

Chan pats your back before grabbing his phone and stands up. “I guess that’s our cue to leave.”

“Take these.” Minho writes your name on one of the paper bags, handing them to you with a big smile. “For everyone at your office. Thanks for reaching out to us.”

You peek inside the bag that has your name scribbled on it, not surprised to see both vanilla and chocolate ice cream inside—it’s the clear bottle that you’re curious about.

“Bye! I’ll send you the gym’s contact later!” Your best friend slash business partner waves at your new client slash crush from the driver’s seat. You take out the bottle, it’s filled with sikhye.

Your favorite drink, but Minho isn’t supposed to know that.

“Everyone deserves a fresh start. Don’t let anyone from your past haunt you. Start Erasure now.”

Minho mutes the television, heaving a sigh as he recounts his fateful meeting with you yesterday. The world has always been rather weird, he would say, but nothing defeats meeting his ex-girlfriend—his first love—who has no recollection of your time together. He heard from his former classmates that you sent them a message a few years ago, informing them that you would undergo the erasure procedure. According to his friends, you specifically told them to “never ever mention Lee Minho’s name or ask you about the procedure.”

You’re back in his life now, happy as ever, and the last thing Minho wants is breaking your heart all over again. He no longer owns that special spot in your heart, you owe him nothing. He left you insecure, disappointed and soulless, and now it’s his turn to be haunted by all the questions and what ifs in his mind.

His phone vibrates as soon as he flips the signage open, your name flashing on his screen. “Hey Y/N what’s up?”

“Minho I can’t multitask so please give me quick and accurate answer. I’m at the traffic light in front of Lotte now—”

“You need to turn left.”

“Okay… didn’t know my non-existent sense of direction is that obvious — damn, let me change lanes.”

Minho suppresses a chuckle. You’ve always been bad with directions.

“Turn left once more, and you’ll find us. We’re right across the first G25 store on the street.”

He steps out the café to welcome you when he spots a white Kia arriving. In contrast to his horrifying memories of teaching you to drive, you manage to parallel-park your car smoothly in 10 seconds, stopping Minho from offering to help you park your car.

“Sorry,” you grimace. “I suck at directions. Last week was the first time I went here and Chan was the one driving so I wasn’t really paying attention… and before you ask, no I can’t use GPS while driving. I barely managed to dial your number.”

Minho lifts his hands. “I was just going to say hello.”

“Oh, good! People always judge me for that!”

You don’t let him respond as you point at the photos on the wall. “Tell me about them!” you request. “Our photographer Hyunjin is going to be here any minute, and we’ll give this corner a special attention. Your customers need to know this.”

Minho scratches his head bashfully, the glint of admiration in your eyes is making him a bit dizzy. It’s been a long time since you looked at him like that. “Uhh, okay. These are the kids I’m supporting, they live in Africa,” he starts. “I hope I can visit them someday, but they’ve been sending me letters, saying thank you... telling me about their days and all.”

“Wow!” you marvel. “How does it feel? To receive such lovely letters?”

“Honestly, it kinda makes me feel like a parent,” he replies. “It feels wonderful.”

Moving onto the next set of photos, his smile grows wider. “I teach these kids dancing, sometimes taekwondo. They’re all very sweet, especially the maknae, Yang Jeongin.” Minho points at a boy with contagious smile. “He can be a brat sometimes, but everyone loves him.”

“Is this an orphanage? Can I meet them?” you blurt out.

“Of course! You’ll love them to bits.”

“You have to come back with Y/N noona!”

A few weeks later, Minho took you to the orphanage. You played with the kids all day and watched him teach them dance. You thought the kids wouldn’t like you as much, but now they’re trying to persuade you to stay the night.

“Aww, of course I’ll come back. Be a good boy, and we’ll be back sooner than you thought!”

Yang Jeongin, the youngest boy in the orphanage, has done everything to make you stay. If it weren’t for your “adult responsibilities,” you would have caved in because nothing could beat his puppy eyes and hopeful smile.

“Alright, go back inside, everyone. All of you need to sleep.”

The kids grumble at Minho’s command, slowly walking back to the main hall. After making sure no one sneaks out to follow you, the two of you make a stop at a nearby park that Minho claims to be the perfect place to admire the moon.

“Okay, you’re not lying. The moon does look pretty from here.”

The man sitting beside you smirks in satisfaction. “I never stay too long but I always like spending time here. Now that I think about it, you kinda resemble the moonlight.”

The switch of the mood has you cackling. “Aren’t everything about the moon associated with werewolves and murders? You’re expecting me to fall for such a lame pickup line?”

“That’s not how I see it.” Minho disagrees. “I think you’re radiant, bright but not blinding. Take it as a compliment.”

The word radiant strikes you light a lightning, forces you to face the harsh reality that you’re doing a really good job in hiding the hollowness inside—all the lingering questions and uneasiness. You’re far from being the light Minho admires.

“Trust me, I’m not radiant whatsoever.”

Minho stiffens, observing you carefully until you feel brave enough to look at him. At first, you see pity in his eyes, but it morphs into something that feels too good to be true. You find tranquil in his gaze, so serene that you nearly let your tears fall.

He reaches for your hand, interlocking your fingers together before pulling you up from your seat. “I’ll tell you whenever you’re being the moonlight that you are,” he promises, his voice is a perfect mix between sincerity and mischief. “Prepared to get sick of me because I’ll remind you everyday.”

Just because most people often cross the line doesn’t mean that being able to exert self-control when needed is something to be proud about, but Minho has always thought of it as his positive trait.

He’s going to cross it out of the list today.

His hand is still holding yours tightly, chatting away with a lopsided smile on his face. And yours. This wasn’t what he intended to do, but life loves to play God and tests him the moment he thinks he knows what he’s doing. Giving you his name card on the train has spiraled into taking you home hand-in-hand, peppering kisses on your temple when you become too cute to handle (which is almost all the damn time) and falling in love with you all over again. What happened in the subway impulsive and dumb, but he couldn’t control himself. He wanted to see you again, he longed to talk to you.

Minho just wanted a second chance to be good to you, but will things ever be enough? How will he make things right again? Providing you free coffee and say thank you for your visit? It was a selfish wish he shouldn’t have acted upon.

“We must’ve crossed paths somehow. There’s no way that we’ve never met before!” you say, swinging your intertwined hands happily.

It’s too late. History repeats itself, but Minho’s too far gone to stop. He’s trying to feel it, the need to exert self-control—he can’t.

“I didn’t come home often,” he lies, every word feels like knife stabbing his heart. You hum in response, a yawn escaping from your mouth as both of you are nearing your unit. Minho watches you enter the door password, mouthing the numbers silently, 2 3 0 9. Your grandma’s birthday. It’s always been your password for everything—phone, laptop, even Minho’s old apartment since you were the one who set it for him. It stays with him until this very day although he no longer lives in the same apartment.

You tug at his sleeve. “Come on in.”

Your stuffs are pretty much the same, if not exactly the same as a few years ago. The only things missing were those related to him. Polaroid photos of you together, the umbrella he left at your place, the mug he…. wait.

The purple mug Minho bought for you is sitting on the kitchen counter, causing him to nearly trip over his own feet. Did you forget to get rid of it before the procedure?

“Let me go change first,” you tell him. “Feel free to grab any snack. There’s cold water and beer in the fridge.”

He can barely answer as you disappear into your room. Memories start flooding his mind, it feels as if he finally finds all the folders with your name on them that he tried so hard to bury, stashed in the deepest part of his heart.

Those memories were so painfully beautiful he has to bite his lip to prevent his tears from falling.

“Oh that’s my favorite mug!”

You’re back, dressed in the black loose T-shirt you always wear during summers. Minho’s eyes automatically dart to your left shoulder, spotting the hole on the shirt that exposes a part of your shoulder.

Another thing that hasn’t changed. Another thing that makes you the you he knew. Another thing that diminishes his self-control into nothing because you have no idea how much he loved to—

“Minho?”

You cradle this face softly, wiping the tears he didn’t know he shed. Confusion and panic reflected in your irises. “Is everything okay?”

“Huh?” He touches his cheek before attempting to laugh. “Something probably went into my eyes...”

“Let me see.” Before he refuses, you’ve taken a step closer, gently blowing into his eyes. “Better? Want some eye drop?”

Minho shakes his head, removing your hands from his face and plants a kiss on your forehead. Another mistake that feels so right. “I guess I’m just tired. Is it okay if we chat some other time?”

You mumble an okay, following him to the front door. When he turns the door knob, you reach for his hand. “Hey,” you murmur, slowly examining his face. Minho tries to read yours in return, sensing your hesitation. He waits for a good minute patiently, letting you form words in your head.

“What are we? These things we’ve been doing… what do they mean to you? Does this mean we’re…”

You let out a frustrated sigh, more directed to yourself than him, and Minho understands what you’re talking about. He tightens his grip on the knob, desperately begging himself to stop all of this. You don’t deserve another heartbreak when you’ve done everything to continue living.

You’re a whole new person, yet you remain the one he adored. How can you be so different yet familiar? How can you be so… dearly you?

“Minho, does this mean that we’re—”

Minho throws his arms around you, burying his head into the crook your neck before slowly trailing his lips towards the exposed part of your shoulder. You have no idea how much he loves leaving kisses there, on that particular spot. As strange as it sounds, it gives him the strength and hope he needs. Minho never told you this; you’ll never be able to imagine how happy and relieved he currently feels when he plants one, two, three, countless kisses that set his whole being on fire.

“We are,” he whispers, dropping one last kiss before pulling you even closer, enveloping your body in his embrace.

There’s only one thing in Minho’s head now: love. He can only think about loving you better than before, and in this moment nothing can stop him from doing so because whether he likes the old you or the new you doesn’t matter anymore.

Minho just loves you, and he doesn’t want to think about anything else. Not even his selfishness. And especially not your future heartbreak.

“You’re so precious, Y/N. You’re so precious to me.”

Hyunjin is the only one at the office when you arrive. He’s busy with his camera, changing its setting every now and then before capturing random things on his desk. You and Chan were on the fence about hiring him at first since you’re just a small company and he’s a student with high expectations. However, Hyunjin turns out to be the one of the most eager apprentices ever, and you’re going to bawl your eyes out when his internship ends next month.

“What are you doing?” you ask him, only earning a distracted “Huh?” as an answer.

“Hyunjin, don’t forget to go over the photoshoot details with me before we leave later, okay?”

He lifts his head a little this time. “Okay. Let me just finish trying out this new technique Seungmin taught me.”

You chuckle, snapping a photo of your intern yelling at his camera when he messes up. Sending it to Chan, you write, “We should give him a raise.”

Your phone rings a few seconds later, frowning when Chan’s urgent voice greets you. “I’m inside my car. Can we talk?”

“Whoa, relax. What happened?”

“Y/N, please. Just come out for a sec.”

No one wants to start a fight with Chan when he’s talking in that tone, so you inform Hyunjin you’re stepping out for a bit. Chan’s sedan is parked right in front of the building, his conflicted face prompts you to enter the car right away.

“You told me there’s something weird about Minho but now you’re dating him? And you’re hiding it from me?” he deadpans without waiting for you to close the door.

“I didn’t mean to hide it from you,” you murmur. “I just don’t know how to explain it.”

Chan sighs in exasperation. “Why do you think you owe me an explanation? I’m your best friend, not your mother. How is Minho different from any other guy you’ve dated that you really tried to keep it a secret from me?”

You gulp. “Things between Minho and I… it’s different. I thought I knew what liking someone felt like, but after meeting him I realized I knew nothing about it. Everything feels so overwhelmingly wonderful and insanely intense I think I may fall apart if I start talking about it.”

Your best friend gives you a knowing look, but says nothing as he stares at a random stranger walking down the street. “And I know you’re not really fond of him so I was trying to look for the perfect timing to tell you. Sorry.”

“I just want to keep you safe. This guy knows small details about you that even I didn’t know. Are you sure you never met him before?”

He pauses, taking a deep breath before adding, “Did you do that erasure procedure?”

“How am I supposed to know?” you snap. “Isn’t forgetting about the whole thing the point of the procedure?”

“You love him, don’t you?” Chan’s voice is soft this time, but his words hit you right in the gut you have to stop yourself from flinching. Hearing someone say that they love you is scary, admitting that you are in love is a hundred times scarier.

Taking your silence as a yes, Chan turns on the engine. “Look, the last thing I want is seeing you sad. It breaks me, more than you know. So please consider trying to find out the truth. How are you going to love him if you don’t trust him? How is he going to love you if he keeps you in the dark?”

You lean your head against the window, watching your best friend dialing Hyunjin’s number to tell him that both of you will be back after lunch.

“We better be quick,” Chan says. “Hyunjin’s terrified he will have to answer Mr. Song’s call again.”

“We should definitely give him a raise.”

“Oh we will,” he snickers. “If he survives Mr. Song’s call.”

“You’re cruel.”

For the first time in your life, you feel like a ruling queen inside your island instead of a trapped princess. You know every nook, every secret passage, every hidden treasure that nobody else has ever explored. Everything feels real for once, you’re in control and you want to stay here forever.

Eat Here has gained more regular customers since you and Chan started handling its social media accounts, and the face-splitting grin on Minho’s face whenever a new customer pushes the door open makes you feel proud and giddy at the same time.

You weren’t able to witness your Hottest Man Alive greeting his customers happily today, but you promised to pay him a visit at the café. It’s a few minutes past 10, meaning the café has closed for the day, so you were prepared to see everyone cleaning up. To you surprise, there’s nobody inside when you arrive.

“Minho?”

Your boyfriend waves from inside the pantry. “Coming!”

Moments later, he comes out with a tray of food. Gesturing at you to take a seat, he places a bowl of potato salad, a pot of kimchi jjigae and some side dishes. “Wait, let me get some more.”

You recall your phone conversation 2 hours ago, vaguely remembering telling Minho that you haven’t had dinner. When he serves the last batch of side dishes and a bottle of sikhye, you tease him for being so sweet.

“I’m not being sweet though?” He pulls out a chair for himself, watching you eat with content eyes. “You said you were starving, so I prepared you some food.”

You shrug, letting him pour sikhye into your glass. “I just never expected that you’re someone who…”

“… cooks?” he finishes for you. “I just did the bare minimum. Do you really want to see me being sweet?”

“Is that a challenge?”

Minho clears his throat, the way he stares at you makes you fidget in your seat. Only God knows what’s inside this man’s mind. One second he’s nonchalant and cool, then he’s Mr. Flirty and makes you all swoony.

Patting his thigh, he smiles at you. “Come here baby.”

You shake your head in fear of completely losing your sanity. “No. What are you trying to do?”

“Being the most romantic boyfriend ever. Come on.”

Minho tries his best to suppress his laugh as you finally settle yourself on his lap, not sure whether you should rest your head on his shoulder or peck his lips or marvel at how firm his thighs are... damn it Y/N, what are you? 17?

Although you’re just sitting there like a log, Minho looks unbothered and reaches for the chocolate cake. He slices it into smaller bites, taking a piece of it with the fork before telling you to open your mouth. “If you still want ice cream then we can get some on the way home.”

“I’ve had enough ice cream for today. I went to this cute ice cream parlor with Chan.”

You take the plate from him, stuffing yourself with the rest of the cake. Minho’s soft pats on your shoulder and the sweet taste of chocolate seem to flush all the initial awkwardness from your system.

Another hour passes with you curling up on Minho’s lap, the latter listening to your little speech about how grateful you are for vending machines as if you’re talking about world peace. Your back hurts and his thighs ache but the way your head nestles in the crook of his neck and the way he pecks your cheek every few minutes are enough of a spell to trap both of you in this exact moment, where lies, doubts and regrets cease to exist.

You wake up with a jolt, reaching for your water bottle on the bedside table. It’s surreal for a dream to feel that real—it almost felt like a memory, something distant but present nonetheless. You’re sure that was the younger Minho you saw in the dream instead of the one you know, and before you come to a realization that it’s currently 2AM, you’re already dialing his number.

He picks up on the fifth ring. “Hmmm my moonlight, missed me?”

His sleepy voice causes you to blush, definitely not seeing that coming. “Nothing.” You wince at your parched voice. “I just had a dream.”

Minho lets out a low laugh, you can hear him sitting up on his bed. “About me?”

“Well… yeah.”

“Tell me about it.”

You sink into your bed, heaving a sigh you forget to hide. “It’s complicated.”

“Was it a bad dream?” Minho’s voice is firm but oh so calming that you start recounting every detail you can remember. He listens to you attentively, humming once in a while, and your muscles are all relaxed now. Minho is here, listening to your bullshit in the wee hours of the morning. Minho is here, calling you his moonlight with the most caring tone ever.

“I miss you,” he declares the moment you finish talking. “Can I come over?”

“All of sudden? Minho, it’s 2AM.” You glance at the clock. “Wait, it’s 2:18 now.”

“Then I’ll be there at 3AM.”

“But—”

He hangs up, and you just sit there until Minho enters your room at 3AM sharp, taking in your dumfounded state before plopping himself onto the bed and pulling you close. “I’m here,” he sweetly says and you can only nod, eyes boring into his as he runs his thumbs along your cheekbones. “I like you, exactly the way you like me. I like you more.”

You shake your head, burying your head in the crook of his neck to hide your red cheeks. “It was just a dream,” he adds, enunciating each word like a mantra. Closing your eyes, you repeat his words again and again inside your head, traces of pain from the dream still crawling up your skin as Minho’s sweet praises lull you to sleep.

“I’m sorry but that’s classified information. We cannot mention anything about our patients.”

“But she did the procedure because of me! I’m the one she erased!”

“That only gives us more reasons to forbid you from obtaining any information. It’s our policy to protect our patients, especially after the procedure is done.”

Minho wonders how this sullen kid managed to land the job, but bites his tongue before he really gets kicked out. He takes one deep breath before pleading at so-called receptionist (his name is Kim Seungmin but he could care less) once again. “May I at least know whether she was in so much pain?”

Seungmin fixes his glasses. “People her age mostly spend their money on traveling or whatever cool things they want to do, but she chose to have her memories manipulated so she wouldn’t have to remember you. I think that’s enough of an explanation.”

It’s no big deal, Minho tells himself. It’s normal for people to have the Erasure procedure thesedays. In fact, it’s become so normal that no one bothers to talk about it anymore. Erasure is simply another way to move on, just like Love Alarm is another way to detect love. If you decided that your memories together weren’t precious enough to keep in your heart, so be it. If he hurt you that much but you chose to erase him instead of confronting him, then it’s your loss.

Exactly. Was he that bad? Did he hurt you that much?

“Excuse me, Sir?” Seungmin is already standing by the door. “I think it’s better for you to leave.”

“Alright.” Minho lifts his hands in defeat, starting to feel bad for the poor boy who’s just trying to keep his job. “Hang in there, kid.”

“Congratulations, you just earned a VIP pass to Hell.”

Eat Here is doing well, the kids he’s supporting are starting school soon and he finally gets to return the feelings of the girl he loves the most but yes, Seungmin is right. The gates of Hell are open for Minho.

“Right,” he scoffs. “As if you didn’t greet people with a smile and convinced them that erasure was the best solution for all their problems.”

Seungmin grits his teeth; talks about Dr. Seo Changbin’s Erasure Centre are never easy for both of them. For Seungmin, it reminds him of all the pain, rage and guilt he thought he was used to seeing. For Minho, it reminds him of his selfishness and failure to make you happy.

“The erasure did help a lot of people though,” the puppy-eyed boy trails off. “It’s been years yet I’m still torn between wanting the procedure to perish and thanking it for saving lives.”

“Maybe it does save people. But then there’s Y/N.”

“And you,” Seungmin adds.

Minho chuckles. “And you.”

“Are you just gonna wait until she realizes that those dreams actually happened?”

A long silence looms over them until Seungmin slides a clear CD case along the counter. “I guess it’s time to reveal how I risked my life for you the day I quit my job there.”

A label with your name is plastered on it along with the logo of the centre. It’s the answer to all his questions when he first met Seungmin. The sole proof that everything between the two of you happened.

“I can get sued anytime,” the part-timer warns jokingly. “So use it well, and don’t cry. She said some hurtful things, but you deserved it anyways.”

“Do you think it could last another hour?”

Hyunjin snaps one last photo and tells the models to get a 5-minute break. “Do you want an honest answer or an intern-can-make-anything-happen answer?” he whispers at you while checking his shots.

You’re currently at a photoshoot in Gyeongju with a client you desperately need to impress, but your clumsiness just had to choose today to get in action. Chan was almost furious when you told him you left all the cameras’ charging cables at Minho’s apartment.

“So we’re fucked up,” you conclude. “How many outfits are left?”

“Including this one… three.”

“We’re so fucked up,” you correct yourself, approaching Chan to relay the expected bad news when a familiar car arrives at the villa. You barely hear Hyunjin muttering, “God is a male… for today…” before rushing to take the black duffel bag from Minho’s hand. He only smiles when you tell him he’s getting all the hugs and kisses later.

The photoshoot continues smoothly; allowing you, Chan and Hyunjin actually breathe after 5 hours trying to make the cameras’ batteries last as long as possible.

“I’m so sorry Chan,” you sigh.

He lets out a weak chuckle. “It’s fine. The problem’s solved anyways.”

“No thanks to me.”

“Thanks to you.” Chan glances at your boyfriend who’s leaning on his car, watching you from afar. “Minho brought the chargers, but you were the one who made him drive all the way here. You need to stop underestimating his feelings for you.”

You let Chan’s words sink in, eyes meeting Minho’s in the process. For a split second you forget about everything’s that’s been bugging you, wanting nothing but to lose yourself in his affection for you.

“Do you trust Minho now?”

Chan puts his hand inside his pocket, exhaling softly. “I know he’s crazy for you Y/N, I’m not dense. But does that mean he’s being honest with you?”

Hyunjin snaps one last photo that marks the end of the shoot, giving you a reason not to respond to Chan, jogging towards the models instead. “Thank you, everyone!” You bow to them. “There are some snacks left inside so please eat before you go, or you may take them home.”

You can still feel Minho’s eyes on you, following you wherever you run with the sweetest kind of fondness that makes it hard for you to question him. He’s like a prince who comes from another kingdom after crossing the long bridge and fighting in the wild forest. He stands there in front of your castle, waiting for you to deem him worthy of your love, of you.

How do you say no to that?

But how do you know if he sees you the way you feel he does?

After that night, you’ve had other dreams—the ones you never told him—each dream etched itself into your mind, filling in the empty spaces slowly but surely. They become a part of you so naturally that you’re convinced you somehow lived them.

“What are you thinking about?”

Minho has just finished loading the last box of props into Chan’s car trunk, now waiting for you to break your train of thoughts with an amused smile. You barely hear Chan and Hyunjin saying goodbye before they enter the car, leaving the two of you alone.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

Minho’s smile is long gone, his expression mirroring yours: confused, lost, a bit scared. “Are you okay?”

Even your 18 year-old self knew what to do then. A bit late, but she did it. The thought of embracing her as a part of you is making you nauseous, the acknowledgement of having a past you don’t remember is disturbingly scary.

“Those dreams... they were real, right? Those are my memories.”

Your stomach churns when Minho nods, surprisingly calmer than you expected. He pulls out a CD out of his bag, carefully slipping it into your hand. The thin plastic feels heavy in your hold, the world as you know it crumbling at the realization that this Lee Minho was the same boy who had your heart in his palm and broke it.

“I tried to picture this situation in my head every single day, but never had the courage to actually tell you. I’m so sorry Y/N. For everything, then and now.”

Lee Minho, the one who sees you as his moonlight, was also the one whose heart could never be yours.

“I’m Lee Minho. We’re both from Gimpo, and we met at high school. We were best friends, then sometime during 11th grade we started dating. You were this amazing, lovely girl who wore your heart on your sleeves, and I was the asshole who failed to realize how blessed I was to have you.”

Minho pauses to look into your eyes, the sorrow in his orbs triggers the tears you refuse to shed. “I became your boyfriend because I didn’t want to lose you,” he continues. “I was stupid, wasn’t I? Stupid and inconsiderate. All I had to do was tell you how I felt…”

"B-but why?” you sob. “Y-you l-lied to me, Minho. Again.”

“I did. Fuck. I did,” he admits. “You have every right to never ever forgive me. But Y/N, I never meant to play with your feelings. I was too late, but I loved you then. I love you now, and I don’t think I’ll be able to love anyone else even if I try.”

Phase 2: Forgotten Days

“A mug?”

Minho hums as an answer while copying your English homework in a speed of light, failing to answer your questions about why, out of all things he could buy in Japan, he decided to gift you a mug. You let out a huff when he leaves your next question hang in the air (“How did you know that I needed a new mug?”), but lets him be since the bell will ring in 15 minutes.

The purple mug is quite heavy and somehow that makes your heart flutter. Minho gave all the other classmates green tea Kit Kats and keychains, but he was willing to fit the bulky mug into his tiny suitcase for you.

You don’t know what’s going on inside his head most of the time, for all you know he could’ve bought the mug because he forgot to buy something for you and decided to grab the first thing in sight. It’s just a little gift, something you should just appreciate without thinking too much about it, but you can’t help but wonder. Sometimes you feel sorry for yourself for overanalyzing Minho’s every little gesture, trying to guess how much he likes you.

“I’m done!” Minho exclaims, returning your book before grabbing his wallet. He finally looks into your eyes, smiling at you as he ruffles your hair. “Gotta grab some snacks. You want anything? Strawberry milk? Chips?”

When he comes back with both although you told him you only wanted chips, Minho argues that he knows you’ll get hungry in the middle of lessons. Again, it shouldn’t feel so special, but he’s looking at you now, you and no one else. Lee Minho is like an enigma, but at times like this, you bask in his bright smile and everything is forgotten.

Summer is the enemy you’ve managed to beat every single year, but combine the scorching heat with excruciating cramps and you don’t stand a chance. You peek into the practice room once again, but Minho is still practicing his dance routines, his phone laid neglected at the corner of the room. The supposed-to-be 30 minutes practice turns into an hour, and you decide to just wait outside since you don’t have energy to go home on your own.

The door opens when you’re on the verge of passing out, luckily someone has caught you before you collapse on the floor. “Y/N,” Minho’s voice forces you to open your eyes. “What happened?”

“… cramps…”

He lifts you and dashes to the infirmary without saying anything else, yelling at some other students to “fucking move!” while trying not to trip over his undone shoelaces. You try to tell him that you’re alright, just a little tired from enduring the pain but he gives you no chance to talk.

Minho finally stays still after kicking the infirmary’s door to no avail. He makes no other attempt to open the door, slowly making eye contact with your drowsy eyes. You love seeing fire in Minho’s eyes, especially when he dances or plays with his friends. This is the first time Minho sees you with such intensity, but this is not the passionate flame you’ve been craving to see. This fire is destructive, painful. It breaks your heart that he’s looking at you like this, like you’re the source of all unfortunate events that happens in his life.

You feel like you’re the unfortunate event in his life, and the thought is enough to make you break free from his bruising grip, pushing the door open yourself.

“Go back to practice,” you tell him, sitting on one of the beds. “I’ll lie down for a bit then go home.”

Minho rummages through the medicine cupboard, taking a painkiller pill and fills an empty glass with warm water. “Drink this, I’ll take you home.”

“I’m fine, Minho…”

He shakes his head. “You’re sick and I’m taking you home.”

Too weak to argue, you swallow the pill and let him walk you home. Minho keeps his hand around your shoulder the whole time, not even bothering to check his ringing phone. He doesn’t talk to you either, and at this rate the silence is more concerning than your cramps.

“Can you go up on your own?” he murmurs when you reach your apartment building. “I have to go back to school, but I’ll stop by later.”

You only nod, about to wave him goodbye when he reaches for your arm. “Wait.”

Minho cups your face, pressing his lips on yours and stealing your breath away. Soon, he starts kissing you harder, but his lips still feel cold against yours and he still feels so faraway even when he’s gripping your waist like his life depends on it.

“Minho,” you manage to rasp, cradling his face to stop him from planting another kiss on your lips. He opens his eyes, staring at you with those beautiful eyes that, sadly, never really shine for you. “Your friends are waiting.”

Still panting, Minho gives you a nod before pulling away. The fire you saw in his eyes earlier has died out.

As you watch him walk away, you finally realize that you’ve been asking yourself the wrong question. It’s not about how much Minho likes you, it’s about whether he likes you at all.

If Minho could choose only one person to be with for the rest of his life, he would choose you. He enjoyed watching movies with you, he loved sending his silly selfies to you, he always wanted to end a tiring day by talking to you all night long.

He can still do that, you’re still his friend. The only difference is that he can hug and kiss you and tell other people that he’s yours. Minho doesn’t know why he lets the words “boyfriend and girlfriend” change the dynamics between the two of you, but it’s too late to undo everything.

“Can we just be friends again?” he repeats the question in his head over and over, yet he can never voice it out. The look in your eyes will be too devastating for him to bear, and he will you lose you forever.

“I’m outside,” he tells you over the phone, trying not to flinch at your excited “Oh!”

A few minutes later, you step out of the elevator, walking towards him with big steps.

“Feeling better?” he asks, noting the way your eyes light up at the question.

“Hmm. I took a short nap and it’s gone.”

Minho sighs. “Don’t wait for me next time. If I take too long, you can just go home. I’m sorry that I let you wait around like that.”

The last sentence causes you to lower your gaze, seemingly self-conscious with the fact that he forgot you were waiting for him. “Bought you some ice cream,” Minho says, trying to distract you from your thoughts. “Chocolate, vanilla, mint choco, it’s all there.”

“As an apology?” you half-tease, the tinge of sadness in your voice causes Minho’s heart to clench a little.

He quickly pulls you into his arms, resting his chin on the top of your head. “Yes and no,” he murmurs into your hair. Part of him is relieved when you don’t question his answer, only humming against his chest before wrapping your arms around him. It’s so easy to make you happy and it angers him. You’re too kind. Too patient. Too loyal. You’re too in love with him, and it hurts not being able to feel the same.

But as the warmth of your body starts to comfort his senses, Minho realizes this is where he wants to be. He wants to be with you, no matter what the labels are. “If you miss the last bus you’re gonna have to walk all the way home,” you remind him, voice muffled since neither of you wants to let go.

“One more minute,” he replies, fingers playing with the hole on your shirt. He places one feathery kiss there, a silent promise that he’s going to try his best loving you. The one promise that could have made you stay, but it remained unsaid until the day you left him.

“Surprise!”

Minho lets out a yelp, coughing up confetti that you pop right in front of face. His parents, standing a few steps behind you, are giggling at their son’s reaction. “I thought you had to go somewhere with your mom!” he exclaims, the surprise in his eyes is now replaced by confusion and… annoyance?

You quietly step aside, letting him shake off the confetti as you’re trying to find your voice. Minho’s parents don’t seem to notice the tension, laughing and explaining that they invited you over for the family birthday dinner.

His mother ushers both of you to the dining room where the feast awaits. “After all this time you still haven’t introduced Y/N to Soonie!” she protests jokingly while the said cat is purring at you. Coming over to Minho’s house without his knowledge sounded like a terrible idea right from the start, but now you really wish you had turned the offer down. The birthday boy only pats you on the back before telling you to sit down, and you spend the rest of the dinner conversing without ever looking at each other in the eyes. That’s no surprise, what surprises you is the fact that you don’t even bother trying to get him look at you.

After 2 years, you’re finally tired of waiting for Minho to love you.

“Soonie doesn’t usually like strangers,” Minho says as you’re walking to the bus stop. “But he really likes you.”

“Do you?”

“What?”

“Like me. Do you like me?”

Minho chuckles. “What kind of question is that?”

Words are bubbling inside your head, all emotions threatening to spill out you have to literally swallow them down. It feels like the world has come to a stop—the realization that your world has been revolving around Minho all this time makes you feel queasy.

“Y/N?”

You want to explode. You wish you can explode. There’s nothing you want more than taking out every piece of your broken heart, count all of them and show him how much you’ve been hurting. You thought your love was enough for both of you, but the bigger your love grew, the farther the distance between the two of you became.

Minho keeps his gaze on you as you’re mustering up courage to ask the most heartbreaking question. “Why?” you quiver. “Why do you pretend that you like me? Why do you bother doing that for 2 years?”

“I-I like you. So much,” he stutters. “Just not in the same way you like me…”

Blinking your tears away, you return his tormented gaze. “Then why did you let me like you alone? Every fucking day you let me wonder how much you like me, if I mean anything to you… I wait for you, convincing myself that you must’ve liked me if you chose to be my boyfriend. But it’s just a game to you, isn’t it?”

Lee Minho has always had his own way to love. You’ve seen him showering those around him with love in ways that seem so ordinary that people often take it for granted. But you see and feel everything, including hints that your feelings have always been one sided. You bury all those hints, telling yourself that he only needs time.

That time never comes, and you have run out of lies and excuses and hope to cover up for both of you.

Phase 3: Chasing Moonlight

The Queen lived under a spell all this time, believing that the foreign kingdom was her whole world while she didn’t even have a home to begin with.

But the ruins of her castle—the only thing that’s left of the kingdom she tried to understand her whole life—will become one. She’s going to build herself a new kingdom, one that she knows by heart, and call it home.

“Noona!!! I’m going home!!! Don’t stay there too long!!! You’ll get sick!!!”

You tear your gaze from the cloudy sky as Hyunjin shouts at you from the ground. You dismiss him with a little wave, forcing a small smile so that the boy will leave instead of going back to the rooftop.

“He’s right,” Chan adds. “You’ve been here for hours.”

After showing up at work with puffy eyes and hoarse voice, Chan attempted to send you home, but you insisted to complete some of your tasks before breaking down during lunch after Hyunjin accidentally revealed that he would meet Seungmin at Eat Here.

So here you are, finally sated after crying all the tears you had left at the rooftop during the remaining working hours.

“I’m fine,” you croak, cringing at your own voice. “You can leave.”

“And let you stay here until you’re all stiff and frozen?”

“Just let me be pathetic for one more day.”

He furrows his brows. “You’re not being pathetic. After what he’s done to you, weeping is the least you should do.”

You let out your first laugh of the day. “I surely wept.”

Looking incredibly relieved that you haven’t lost the ability to feel other emotions than sadness, Chan continues, “Wanna talk about it?”

“Do you know what hurts the most?”

He takes the longest time to think, but shakes his head at the end.

“The fact that I’ll probably never see him again.”

“That’s supposed to be a good thing, but go on.”

“Should I give him one last chance? Or should I just hate him until I die? What’s the right thing to do? What should I do to heal? What should he do to heal? All these questions are driving me insane.”

Those questions are the easiest to answer, so you expect Chan to sigh and tell you to snap out of it, but he just smiles at you. “What do you want to do?”

“Huh?”

“Have you tried answering your own questions? What you want to do is what you’re supposed to do. It’s easy, my dear friend.”

“I want to…”

Your mind wanders to last night, recalling that agony on Minho’s face that mirrors your own. A small part of you wants him to suffer for the rest of his life, consumed by guilt and the sheer horror of being erased from someone else’s memories.

“I want to curse him out.”

Chan playfully smacks your head. “You didn’t do that?”

“My mind went blank, then I started crying. That wasn’t cool at all, I know,” you huff. “I should’ve told him to go to hell or something.”

“After that? What do you want to do?”

You bury your face into your palms, ignoring the teasing tone in Chan’s questions. “The last time we talked, you were Lee Minho’s #1 hater. What happened?”

“I just wanted him to be honest with you. I never hated him,” he tells you softly. “Do you?”

You may never get all of your memories back, but the ones you can remember are enough to know that being with Minho used to be a silent torture. He was a thorny rose, beautiful yet unattainable. You wanted him so much you refused to look down and see your bloody fingers. The thorns were stuck there for the longest time, eventually infecting your soul until you were too weak to heal yourself.

But he’s not that boy anymore. He’s just Minho who listens to all of your rambles and actually keeps all those details in his mind. He gives you the warmest hugs and the most sincere kisses. He stays by your side, and you will always want him to stay.

When you finally lift your head to answer Chan, he gives you his reassuring smile that never fails to make you feel better. It’s the first time he’s talking about Minho without a frown, and you hope it’s a good sign. “Like I said,” he sing-songs. “Do what you want to do.”

The sound of footsteps approaching prompts you to curl yourself into a ball, trying to make yourself as invisible as possible under the dining the table. Jeongin manages to push the heavy door open after a few tries, mumbling that you’re not going to take the “king of hide and seek” title from him. You can’t help but giggle at his determination, waiting for him to find you while he’s scanning the whole room.

“Minho hyung!”

You stay still, not wanting to fall into the 5 year-old’s tricks so easily… until you hear Minho’s voice calling the little boy’s name. “What are you guys playing? Where’s Y/N?”

“We’re playing hide and seek,” Jeongin answers, his eyes still as sharp as a hawk. “I’ve found everyone, only Y/N noona is left!”

Minho hums. “Want me to help you find her?”

You don’t hear Jeongin responding, but the next thing you see is a pair of pretty eyes staring into yours. “Found her,” Minho murmurs.

Jeongin pulls you out with a huge grin on his face. “I knew you were there! Thanks for helping me, hyung.”

Minho ruffles the boy’s head before gazing back at you. “If you’re thankful, can I borrow her for a second? We just need to talk, then she’s all yours.”

You can’t find the strength to say no, hoping Jeongin will somehow be clingy this time. “Are you guys fighting?” he asks instead.

“Do you think we’re fighting?”

Jeongin nods, his sparkly eyes turn gloomy. “If I let you talk, will you make up?”

Minho glances at you. “I don’t know… I made a huge mistake.”

“Did you make her cry?”

“Yeah,” Minho confirms, voice thick with remorse and you’re not sure how long you can pretend to be okay in front of Jeongin.“I’m a bad person, aren’t I?”

You crouch down, pinching the boy’s pout with an endearing smile. “I promise nothing bad will happen. Can we go outside now? I’m sure everyone is waiting for you.”

Still a bit sullen, he links his hand with yours and lets you lead him out, Minho trailing behind the two of you. Once you’re back at the garden, Jeongin whispers into your ear, “I’ll always be your friend, noona. I won’t hurt you.”

“Of course you won’t,” you laugh. “I’ll join you soon, okay?”

Minho turns to you as soon as Jeongin goes back to his friends, studying your expressions carefully. You want to tell him so many things, yet the only words you can produce are, “Fuck you, Lee Minho.”

You feel slightly lighter when Minho says nothing to defend himself, sitting on the grass before gesturing at you to do the same. It fuels your need to let out the pain you previously sealed inside your heart, ironically basking in his comforting presence as you do so.

“The whole time I felt like something was missing. You knew that, then went on hiding the rest of the puzzle pieces and left me there, incomplete. Just like that.”

This isn’t your first time baring your heart to Minho, the last time you did it you were left with such immeasurable pain that erasing a part of your brain—your soul—sounded like a better choice. You wait for the sadness and rage to take over your mind, but the storm never comes. You wonder what makes it different until Minho shifts to look at you in the eye.

Minho is looking at you with those pretty eyes like you’re the only one he can see. It’s not just a sweet dream you tried to dream of every night when you were 17. You’re no longer the only one who’s wearing your heart on your sleeves.

“Am I doing this because I feel guilty or because I genuinely want to be with you?” he begins. “Believe me Y/N, I spent months trying to find the answer and justify what I did, but I guess you can never exactly separate those two feelings.”

His confession is bittersweet; you know it won’t end all your personal battles. You still have to fight them, help yourself to understand why you are thinking and acting the way you are. The gaps have been filled, and now you have to be the one who define yourself.

“I thought I could just treat you better for the rest of our lives. I was sure my love would be enough to heal you. That was very stupid and selfish of me, and I’m sorry. You’re free to hate me, push me away, ruin my life… the decision is yours. But I don’t wanna hide how I feel anymore. Not from you.”

You’re still pondering his words when Jeongin comes to check on you, making sure Minho isn’t making you cry again.

“No, Jeongin, I’m fine. Look? I’m not crying!” you reassure the pouty kid.

He beams at you with his toothy smile. “Really?! Did you make up? Friends have to forgive each other!”

“I know, sweetheart,” you coo. “And yes, we made up. Friends forgive each other.”

Minho shoots you a surprised look, but you ignore him until you convince Jeongin that he can continue playing. “I don’t know whether we can go back to what we were,” you tell him, gazing at the clear sky. “I still need time to process everything, but I was afraid that I wouldn’t ever see you again. So we can be friends, if you want.”

He chuckles, eyes sparkling and hopeful. “Hi. I’m Lee Minho.”

“I’m Y/N,” you reply. “Anyways, Lee Minho my new friend, how did you know that I’m here?”

“Your scary friend Bang Chan told me you’d be here.”

“So you think Chan is scary.”

Minho does something that’s between a shrug and a shudder. “He’s always shooting daggers at me how do you not notice?!”

As you and Minho spend the rest of the day laughing and enjoying the sun, you rediscover the magic of following your heart.

It’s heavenly.

To Minho, there are only okay days and good days. Bad days almost never happen, but today is a bad day. Everything started from Eat Here’s fruit supplier sending them the wrong strawberries, then Seungmin called in sick minutes before his shift started, and now he has to deal with a couple whose order hasn’t been processed since 40 minutes ago.

“I apologize for the inconvenience. We’re processing your order now and it will be on us. Jisung, we need another 2 glasses of lemonade—”

“We need our food, not—”

Minho’s lips stretch into a thin smile, the kind of smile he hates because you once said you could sense that he was faking it. His business smile is the only that can save him now, so he ignores the fact that you’re watching the whole chaos and says, “It will be on us. You’re going to need more drinks while waiting.”

After making sure that he’s appeased the angry customers, Minho goes back to the small table at the corner where you’re waiting for him. He can no longer mask his fatigue and annoyance when you lay your eyes on him, all he wants now is to hold you in his arms and sleep everything away. He knows he can’t ask you for more, he’s already getting more than he deserves since you agreed to be friends with him again.

He’s undeniably the luckiest man in the whole galaxy, but it’s human instincts to always want more. There are days when his longing for you is too much to handle, and today is one of those days.

His train of thoughts is interrupted when a cold glass is pressed against his cheek. “Minho?”

“Huh?”

Your eyes crinkle knowingly when he focuses his eyes on you again. “I want to listen to you ranting but I really need to go now. Chan needs me back at the office.”

“Okay,” he answers rather brashly. “Thanks for stopping by.”

Minho almost pouts the way Jeongin does (that pout always gets him) whenever the two of you are going home, luckily he stops himself just in time, opting to wonder what will happen if he tells you that he wants you to stay just a minute longer instead.

You make your way to the door, but not without stopping to give him one last advice, “You better not complain that everything is annoying every 5 seconds if you want that new guy to last more than a day. He’s been looking like a lost quokka!”

Your “warning” came out a bit too loud than you expected. Of course, it reaches Han “that new guy” Jisung’s ears and Minho hopes he remembers to give the poor kid a slice of cheesecake for free after his shift ends. You flash him an apologetic smile, turning to Jisung to convince him that his boss isn’t as bad as he seems before your phone rings.

“He’s harmless, Jisung, just make him iced Americano everyday, praise his cats, and you’re good. Okay, I have to go now or I’ll be jobless in an hour! Byeee!”

Minho’s mouth has curled into a lovesick smile at your antics, waving at you until you close the door of your car. The way you naturally calm him down surprises him everytime, it’s like you’re unaware of how much power you have over him.

God, you really own every inch of his heart, don’t you?

Second chances are overrated.

People change, but once you pay attention to them a just a liiiitle more, you realize that they’re still the same. Lee Minho believes he doesn’t deserve any second chance from you, yet he finds himself seeking forgiveness the moment he looked into your eyes again. As selfish as it sounds, Minho wants your love. Nobody else’s, just yours.

He tried to fill in the empty space you left with other people, but none of them fit. It was always too much or too little, punching him right in his gut for ever thinking that what you two had was too much, that you were too much.

Seeing you fast asleep in his living room with Soonie, Doongie and Dori is another reminder that you were never too much.

You were, and still are, his everything.

Dori opens her eyes before jumping out of your arms, making you stir. Minho quietly strokes your hair to lull you back to sleep, but soon your eyes flutter open as well. “Hmmm look who’s here… the hottest man alive,” you mumble.

Minho points at himself. “Not that I’m surprised, but thank you.”

Your sleepy smile and the breathy chuckle that comes after make his stomach flip. It’s just a simple reaction, something you probably didn’t realize doing, but it feels breathtakingly intimate and loving to Minho. A small part of you that only him can see, something that will cross his mind sometime during work, making him wish time to pass quickly so he can rush back home. To you.

Damn, he promised himself not to let him picture a life with you as the love of his life, but look at his defense crumbling right in front of you because of a mere smile.

You seem to notice his dilemma, lips forming another smile. Opening your arms, you whisper, “Come here.”

The voices in his head are drowned by your request, it’s echoing inside his head like a deathly spell. You have him in your embrace nanoseconds later, curling your hands around his neck as he completely succumbs to his longing.

Minho’s head buzzes with the need to tell you that he loves you, wants you, and misses you to the point that he almost asks you to please please please please forgive him and take him back.

“Okay.”

He lifts his head from the crook of your neck, eyes flickering to yours. You chuckle at his reaction, cupping his cheeks with your warm hands. “Say that again.”

“Say… what again?”

Minho blinks up at you, tiny groans of regret escaping his lips when he realizes that he just spilled everything out loud. “I’m sorry,” he sighs. “I wasn’t supposed to say that. I know this isn’t about me, but—”

“Did you mean it, though?”

“Of course I did,” Minho says. “But I want to go according to your pace.”

“If I didn’t want the same thing I wouldn’t be here, Minho.” Your voice is as sweet as honey, hypnotizing him into dropping his hopeless pretense. “I’ve built a new home that truly feels like home. It’s probably just a small house, filled with everything that makes me me. But it feels like a beautiful kingdom, and it’s not complete without you in it.”

You don’t have to say it; the way you hold his gaze with such a raw, pure sincerity and the way you asked him to be with you as if he’s the best person in the whole world are enough to let Minho know that he’s all forgiven.

Feeling a tug at his shirt, he meets your expectant eyes once again. “Are you going to continue staring at me like that until we fall asleep?”

The last traces his fear for disappointing you melts away as you start stroking his hair. “I love you,” he rasps, unconsciously leaning in until his lips brush over yours. “My precious moonlight, I’ll do my best so you won’t ever have to erase me again. I love you, Y/N, please don’t leave me.”

You barely manage to nod before Minho finally crashes his lips against yours, not giving you any chance to steal a breath as he lets his feelings overtake himself. He explores every part of your lips like a madman and you accept whatever he gives you, trying to keep up with his feverish kisses and letting him know that he doesn’t need to hold back.

The sudden urge to see you encourages him to pull away. Minho says nothing for a while, only looking into your eyes with silent adoration. Still breathless, you prop yourself up to reward him with a chaste kiss on the tip of his nose, the sweet gesture causing Minho to attack you with a series of playful smooches.

“How long do you think this will last?” you ask in between kisses, giggling when Minho switches your positions, you’re now lying on top of him.

“This?”

You pinch his cheek. “I gotta admit it feels kinda nice to hear you saying please so many times.”

Minho arches an eyebrow at your cheeky remark. “Is that so? Wait until you find out how much I like hearing you beg.”

“Minho!” you exclaim, dropping your head on his chest to hide your flushed cheeks. He wraps his arms around you, ready to make you even more flustered before accidentally locking eyes with his cats. You lift your head when you feel his body stills, following his gaze.

“Oh no,” you murmur. “The kids saw that, didn’t they?”

He smiles sheepishly at each of them, somehow feeling like he’s gotten caught by his parents. “This kind of thing happens when you love someone,” he attempts to joke. “So get used to it, okay kiddos?”

You nudge his chest with your chin. “God, you’re shameless.”

“They’re cats!”

“Then why are your ears so red?!”

Minho tuts. “That’s it. We need to do this more often so they’ll get used to it.”

As he silences you with another searing kiss, Minho almost malfunctions at how addicting and comforting it is to have you as his again. It’s impossible to fathom all of his feelings for you into words, yet he still hopes you’ll feel every single one of them.

And you do, because Minho is yours. Entirely yours.

“How did you pass your driving test? Did you bribe them or something?”

Hyunjin doesn’t bother to answer Seungmin’s accusation, eyes glued to the road.

“Watch it,” Minho warns monotonously while you’re gripping his hand, too scared to witness the younger trying to drive. Seungmin shrieks in horror when Hyunjin hits the break almost too late. He glares at the passenger seats where you and Minho are seated. “Hyung can you just take over? Or at least switch seats with me?”

“I can’t.” He points at you. “Y/N is scared as hell and I’m not gonna let you hold her hand.”

Hyunjin curses under his breath when several other cars pass him. “Give me a break! This is my first time driving at the highway,” he argues. “And I was supposed to borrow Chan hyung’s car! Driving your car makes it even ten times scarier!”

“Hey, what’s wrong with my car?!” your boyfriend protests.

The three men continue talking over each other, causing you to roar, “SHUT UP!! Hwang Hyunjin, if you take your hands off the wheels you’re gonna die before you even scratch the car!”

Twenty painful minutes later, Hyunjin succeeds in parallel parking the car with the help of a very frustrated Seungmin. The two boys are heading to the orphanage right away, leaving you and Minho alone for your little date.

Minho opens the trunk, setting it up quickly before pulling you to sit beside him, handing you one of the toasts he packed this morning. “Whoa, the moony park is even more beautiful during the day,” you muse, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Yeah,” Minho agrees. “Should we come here more often at this hour?”

“It doesn’t matter, as long as you’re with me.”

Minho snorts at your cheesy answer, but you still sense his wary from the way he keeps glancing at you from time to time. “Is this about the erasure recording you found in my room yesterday? Is that why you took me here?”

“I’m just wondering why you’re still keeping it. I thought we agreed to destroy it,” he says, doing his best to conceal his uneasiness. You initially thought it was a great idea to forget it ever happened, but no, you’re not running away. You want to accept all the consequences of the decisions you have made, especially this one.

“We did, but then I realized I didn’t want to. I don’t want to erase anything anymore, Minho. I want to live life as it is. It’s a memento from the most important period of my life, and while it hurts, it’s a part of me.” You throw your arms around him, squeezing his body until he turns to you and return your hug. “It’s also a reminder that what we have is stronger than anything, don’t you think? I erased you and I still fell in love with you again. Like an idiot.”

Relief washes over you when Minho chuckles, carefree and amused. “You’re not an idiot,” he teases. “You just have an exceptional taste, and I’m way too irresistible. Let’s face it, you were already crazy for me even before I gave you my card.”

“No I wasn’t! I just thought you were attractive!”

“I am the hottest man alive.”

You sigh. “You’ll never let me live it down.”

“No,” he affirms. “Because you’re right. It’s time to stop trying to forget our past. I’ll never forget the fact that you’re calling me the hottest man alive, just like I’ll never forget how much I’ve hurt you. And how much I’ll always try to make it up to you.”

You laugh at his comparison. “I honestly can’t tell whether we’re having a serious conversation or just trolling each other.”

“It’s my talent, baby. Life is always fun with me.”

Although the park has become more crowded and your boyfriend is never big on PDA, you have no choice but giving him a kiss on his cheek. “You don’t have to do anything for me,” you whisper. “Just love me.”

“Hmm.” His lips stretch into a loving smile, the one smile reserved for your eyes only. “That I do.”

Minho isn’t a prince charming who sweeps you off your feet. He is your wandering prince and you’re his moonlight, illuminating his gloomy world. You show him that he doesn’t have to wander for the rest of his life, that he can call you home and stay.

And Minho will always be with you, showering you with the love you deserve. He’ll be the one who fight the demons for you and with you, he’ll be the one who reminds you over and over again how strong and precious you are whenever you lose faith in yourself. Together, you are moonlit. Together, you are complete.

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simplykpopaus · 3 years

Text

Phone

A/N: I was so upset when I had lost my first draft to this one. Having to try and remember most of it was the hard part, and now it is shorter than it was originally. But i’m glad I finally have it done. hope you guys like it. -Lushie

Class had just ended

You were walking back to your car

books in hand

a friend next to you

“class was so boring today” she said

“yes it definitely was” you replied

both of you walking through the buildings

“I have to go this way” she said

“have fun in your next class” you told her

“I’ll try, see you tomorrow y/n” she said

you took your phone out to check the time

looking back up towards her

she was entering into a building

you put your phone away

walked towards a café on campus

entering the café you looked for an empty table

you set you books and bag down

grabbing your wallet from your bag

you turned to get in line

there was only three other people in the café

waiting for the guy behind the counter to call you

“I can help the next customer” he said

you walked up to the counter

“What can I get for you” he said

“Can I get an medium iced macchiato please” you replied

“What’s your name for the order” he said

“y/n” you replied

“Okay y/n its gonna be $3.50″ he said

handing him your card

you waited for him to give it back with a receipt

“Okay, y/n we will call you when it’s ready” he said

“thank you” you said

before walking away

you went to the table where your bag was

taking your laptop out of your bag

you decided to work on some class assignments

before heading home

right when you were going to log in

your drink was ready

you went to grab your drink

sat back down and logged into to your class

you had sat there for about an hour

drink empty and work done

packing everything up

you threw your empty cup in the trash can

you took your phone from your pocket

it’s only 4 pm you thought to yourself

as you were walking towards the parking lot

you came across a group of boys

practicing some skating tricks

you kept out of their way

but you could hear them whisper

but you were already near your car

so you payed no attention to it

you were taking your keys out of your bag

when someone came up to you

“h-hi” he said

looking up you saw a cute guy

beanie on his head and skate board in hand

blonde hair soft looking face

“hi” you replied

“I um, can i borrow your phone” he said shyly

“mine seems to have died” he said again

you looked at him for a second

“Um, sure you can” you said

taking your phone out of your pocket

you handed it to him

unlocking your car you hear a phone go off

looking at the guy he smiles shyly and gives you your phone back

“Thank you for that” he said

“Umm was that your phone ringing?” you asked

“Yes it was, and now i have your number” he said

walking away from you slowly

you were left speechless as he walked away

turning around you put your bag in the back seat

before heading to the drivers seat

As you close the door your phone goes off

looking at it there was a text from a random number

“hi i’m Yeosang, thank you for letting me borrow your phone”

shaking your head you went to reply when you got another text

“can I perhaps know your name?”

“My name is y/n” you replied

You put your phone away and turned the car on

you drove home

couldn't wait to tell your friend what happened

when you got home

you got all your things together before going in

heading straight to your room

you set your things down

before heading downstairs so you can find something to eat

grabbing your phone you saw another message

“well you have a pretty name” he said

“thank you” you replied

arriving at the kitchen you found an apple

grabbing it you washed it quickly before taking a bite

you heard your phone go off on the counter you left it

looking through the fridge for something to find

but nothing caught your eye

deciding to order some chicken

picking up your phone your ordered first

before checking your messages

“I was wondering if i could take you out one day” he said

“You want to take me out” you replied

“Yes on a date” he replied

“You don’t even know me” you told him

“Yes I know, but i want to get to know you” he said

“Okay then, let me know when” you replied

putting your phone down on the counter

you grabbed a cup of water

grabbing your phone you headed towards the living room

waiting for your food to arrive

you turned the tv on and looked for something to watch

your phone went off again

“I’ll see you in the same place as today on Friday” he said

“Okay, sounds good” you replied

there was a knock on the door

putting your phone down you went to open it

thanking the guy as he handed you your food

you went back to the living room

taken your food out you started eating

as friday came around you and Yeosang had talked everyday

you were heading to your car after class again

and you noticed Yeosang standing near your car

“Hi y/n” he said

“Hi” you replied

“ I was thinking of going to get some coffee” he asked you

“That's totally okay with me” you said to him

“there is a caffee shop on campus i like the most” he told you

“Let me put my things away first” you told him

he waited for you to finish

before taking your hand in his

and heading towards the coffee shop

you knew exactly where he was going

you took this path all the time

he opened the door to the coffee shop you always go to

you go up to order

the guy from earlier was there

you both ordered and sat down

when your drink was ready

he went to pick them up

you both sat there talking for an hour or two

laughing and enjoying each others presence

he would take you to the park after

try and teach you how to skate

you would sit under a tree and watch him for a bit

this happens about twice a week

for a while before it becomes an everyday thing

you eventually learn how to skate

and you skate together all the time

his friends tell you how he was so shy to ask for your number that day

how they cheered for him after you drove off

#ateez yeosang #ateez scenario #ateez imagines #ateez reactions #kang yeosang #yeosang scenarios #yeosang imagines #yeosang reaction #yeosang blurbs

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garlichoisan · 4 years

Text

Chocolate | k.mg

Genre: Fluff Word count: 4234 Information: college!au, coffeeshop!au, barista!mingyu, female reader, cute Meanie friendship Warnings: A lot of fluff.

Plot: You have always liked Mingyu, the handsome barista who worked in your favourite coffee shop. You thought he could never like you back, but what happens when he begins to be not so suble about his feelings for you?

Author’s note: Hello! This is my first scenario that I’m posting here. I hope it receives good reactions. ♡

I want to thank @raibebe for giving me this amazing idea and motivating me to write this. It was a simple theme but it’s just my style.

When the professor said you were free to go, you were among the first ones to exit the classroom. It was a long day and you were in desperate need of coffee. Of course, you could also buy coffee from the university’s cafeteria but it wasn’t the same as the one you drank in the place you wanted to visit. Maybe you didn’t need coffee as much as you needed to see Mingyu’s smile which always made your day better. He was a very tall, young and handsome barista who caught your eye the moment you saw him for the first time. He was the main reason you went to the coffee shop almost every day. To hear his addictive voice, to see his beautiful smile and to feel his overflowing positive energy. You needed all of this to remain sane after all the studying. You sometimes met him in your university too because he also studied there but it wasn’t enough for you seeing him only then. He was an upperclassman who was majoring in Fashion which was very different from your major so you didn’t really meet him that often. You thought it was quite noticeable what his major was – he was always so fashionable, he undeniably had a great taste and knew how to dress. Every time when you met him by chance he was smiling at you as if you brought the same joy to his heart as the one he brought to yours. But that was probably his occasional flirting, though – he seemed like the type of person to flirt with everyone. Because he was so kind to people, he could not control himself and people were quick with making assumptions.

Even though you liked him so much, you really doubted he was interested in you – he was sweet and approachable but his standards for his girlfriend were probably a lot higher than those for his friends. He could literally be friends with everybody but he most likely wouldn’t go out with somebody less breathtaking than him. And you thought you were quite far from that description. For now you were comfortable enough with having a one-sided crush on him.

As soon as you opened the coffee shop’s door the strong scent of freshly brewed coffee welcomed you. You loved this scent, mainly because you associated it with Mingyu. As you got closer, your eyes looked for the young barista and there he was – looking at you, waving and smiling widely. You waved back as you smiled and you continued walking until you were right in front of him.

“Hi, Y/N” he greeted kindly. “Let me guess: chocolate latte again?” You nodded as you took your wallet out of your bag. “Uhm, Y/N…” Mingyu said shyly. You looked at him, giving all your attention to him. “Sorry but this time I can’t give you the drink for free. My boss didn’t like that,” he explained, looking at you apologetically. “I know we’re friends and if it was up to me, I would love to give it for free but I don’t want to get into trouble.”

You really didn’t care if you had to give money for your drink. As long as you saw Mingyu’s handsome face and his sweet smile, everything was worth it, even if you had to give all your money. The last couple of times when you visited the café Mingyu decided to give you the drink for free even though you strongly objected. So now you weren’t really shocked or offended – after all, it was normal for you to pay for any food or drinks your ordered. You were actually surprised when Mingyu refused to accept your money.

“It’s okay, Mingyu. I was going to pay for it anyway,” you smiled softly. “You know, I may be a university student but I still have some money,” you teased him but he still had that look on his face. “I will find a way to pay you back, I promise!” Why did he seem so eager to give you the money back when he didn’t even have to do it? It’s not like you have lent him money. “Please, you really don’t have to,” you insisted as you took your cup filled with coffee, smiled at him again and went to sit on a free table.

You placed the plastic cup on the table as you read “Miss Choco Latte” written on it and a heart right next to your nickname. You weren’t sure where did this nickname come from but Mingyu kept using it and you wholeheartedly loved it. It showed some type of “personal” attitude and it was so cute; it made you feel closer to him. And to see hearts drawn on your cup happened a couple of times already but you tried not to pay attention to it. You were certain it didn’t mean “I like you” or “You’re cute”. It was written by Mingyu who was kind to everyone. You knew him well enough to know at least that about him – this puppy-like man just couldn’t be rude, probably even to people who deserved it. Maybe this was one of the things you liked the most about him. So you just assumed he drew hearts to every client’s cup – you thought you weren’t special for him, even though you definitely wanted to be.

You hated to admit it but it was quite evident you had a crush on him.

* * *

A couple of days later you visited the café after classes again to take some coffee for take away since you had to go home and study. You couldn’t stay at the coffee shop this time but you also couldn’t go home without buying coffee – or seeing Mingyu. You thought he could be your support – he could keep you motivated to study, as long as you saw his face today. Only one look at him was enough to give you a surprising amount of energy. He could also wake you up way better than caffeine but you had to use coffee as a reason to visit him. You were too shy to be honest with him because that meant admitting your true feelings for him – something you were unable to do.

Today, though, a strange thing occurred, something that has never happened before, not even once during these months in which you have visited the café: Mingyu has written his number on your cup – and you noticed that only when you got home. No wonder he was extremely smiley today – of course, you smiled at him too but you still found it strange that he was smiling so much. What was he so happy about? Now you were sure it was because he wrote his number on the cup... What if he really had feelings for you too? All of his smiles, his secret looks, his decision to give you drinks for free, even the hearts he drew on your cup and the nickname he used for you… Suddenly everything made sense now. There was a high chance he liked you back and you couldn’t be happier about that fact. You checked the time on your phone and you figured it could be inconvenient to call him now. You didn’t want to call him while he was working but if you waited until the coffee shop closed, then it would be too late in the evening. You decided to leave the phone conversation for tomorrow instead in order not to disturb him. Now you were just going to study and tomorrow you would call Mingyu and find out if he really liked you.

When tomorrow came though, you found yourself unable to do anything else aside from studying. Your exam was way too soon and you weren’t sure you were ready for it. However, you needed to hear Mingyu’s voice so you decided you were going to call him tonight, even if that meant making your study time less.

When you got home you got closer to the table on which you left the cup – but now it was nowhere to be seen. Carefully looking for it in every single room of your dorm room, you started feeling anxious when you found nothing. What if Mingyu decided to give up on you? What if he thought you weren’t interested in him or you were playing too hard to get?

When your roommate, Somin, entered your shared room you went to greet her and eventually ask her about the cup in a casual way. “Hey Somin,” you smiled at her, hugging her lightly. “How are you doing? You weren’t here yesterday,” you noted. “Yes, I was with my boyfriend and I got home pretty late. When I got here you were already asleep so I didn’t want to wake you up,” she explained while she took off her shoes. “I see,” you nodded understandingly. “Uhm, I know that may sound weird but… Have you seen a cup recently?” you asked her even though you were aware your question sounded too random. “A cup? What kind of cup?” she furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. “You know… A coffee cup with some… Hearts drawn on it,” you described it as Somin was staring at you. “Ah!” she suddenly exclaimed. “Was it a cup from the coffee shop with the handsome barista?”

You nodded enthusiastically, thinking she knew where it was. “I left it somewhere but I can’t remember where…” You looked at her with surprise.

“Somin!” “What? Was it that important? It’s just a cup,” she insisted. “Just a cup?!” you almost screamed. “It was a cup with Mingyu’s number on it!” “Aww! He wrote his number on your cup?” “Yes, he did. But now it doesn’t matter anymore since someone put it God knows where,” you said with a fake smile.

You were angry at Somin for taking stuff that weren’t hers all the time. She was also forgetful and easily distracted which made her an even worse roommate. Even though she was kind and caring, she did what she wanted without caring for the consequences.

“Sorry! I just wanted to take a look at it,” she answered quietly. “Can’t you go to the coffee shop and talk to him?” “I can’t, Somin. I have an exam coming up, I have to study since I barely passed the last one.” “I’m really sorry, Y/N,” she looked at you guiltily. “I promise I will look for it when I finish my homework.” “Whatever,” you frowned, taking a deep breath. You really didn’t want to leave Mingyu with the wrong impression but right now you seemed to have no choice.

* * *

Meanwhile Mingyu was wondering what was wrong. He expected you would call him as soon as you found his number on your cup but a few days passed already and he was not so secretly starting to freak out. It was visible – he was anxious, he was even considering it would all be his fault. He couldn’t just play it cool – when he experienced overwhelming emotions, he needed the world to know about that. If he was hurt, people would definitely see that. He wasn’t the best at hiding his true emotions – he was way too honest and that was one of the personality traits his friends and even you liked about him.

That’s why Wonwoo was starting to get really annoyed with Mingyu in the past few days. Wonwoo was the exact opposite of Mingyu – he wasn’t used to expressing his emotions freely, at least not in front of everyone. He believed emotions were something personal, something that a person had to cope with alone. Asking friends for help because he needed to share his problems with someone was saved only for extreme situations. That’s why people were labeling him as secretive, mysterious, distant and many other adjectives. He could only allow himself to feel when he was with Mingyu, for example, because he was his friend and he knew he would never judge him. But when he was in public, when there were people Wonwoo didn’t trust or didn’t know – he would always put his ice cold expression, successfully convincing the general public he was completely fine.

“What if I pushed her away because it all happened so fast? We haven’t known each other for a long time so maybe it’s my mistake. I should have waited longer before doing it but you told me to write my number on her cup and-“ Wonwoo cut him off, sighing deeply. “Calm down, Gyu. You’ve known each other for a couple of months already, I think the timing is perfect. And I’m sure she likes you.” “If she liked me she would have called by now. But why isn’t she calling me?!” Mingyu continued freaking out. “Believe me when I say that probably the whole university has a crush on you, Mingyu,” Wonwoo tried comforting him in his own untraditional way. “I’m aware of that and I really don’t care. She’s different – what if what makes her even more special is that she does not like me?”

“That happens only in movies, Gyu,” Wonwoo laughed. “She always acts so shy even around me. That’s why I’m sure she likes you. She knows we’re close so if she embarrasses herself in front of me, she probably thinks I’m going to tell you. Really, she’s super careful but she still drops all her stuff as soon as she notices me.” Mingyu stayed silent for a moment, then he returned his attention to Wonwoo. “What if she likes you and not me?” Mingyu pouted. “I wouldn’t blame her. Everybody knows I’m super hot,” Wonwoo said with a smirk as Mingyu rolled his eyes. “Hot my ass.” “Well, now that you mention it, it’s definitely hot, I have to admit,” Wonwoo chuckled.

“Are we going to stop talking about my body parts and focus on Y/N?”

“Ah, yes. Okay, here’s the thing: Every time I meet her, the pattern is pretty much the same. The first thing Miss Choco Latte does is embarrass herself, for example she drops her books in the library and I go to help her. Then she asks me how I’m doing but I can tell that’s not what she’s really interested about. She only does it to be polite; after that she always asks about you. And when I talk about you her eyes are always... I don’t know, it’s as if they are shining? I swear I can see stars in them. She truly adores you so much,” Wonwoo smiled genuinely at his best friend after doing his best to cheer him up and motivate him. Mingyu almost cried when he heard Wonwoo’s words. Not only because he now really believed you liked him back but also because Wonwoo was trying so hard to make him feel better and prove his point. Mingyu knew he was lucky to have a friend like him.

Suddenly a wide smile appeared on Mingyu’s face. He was so happy, at this moment it looked like the whole universe was helping him. He got closer to Wonwoo and hugged him as tight as he could. “Thank you, Woo,” he said joyfully. “Careful with the physical contact,” Wonwoo warned but Mingyu didn’t loosen his grip on him.

Wonwoo wasn’t the biggest fan of physical contact but somehow Mingyu’s hugs had a positive effect on his mood every time. He was used to his younger friend always being too close to him and almost ignoring his personal space preferences but he still let him hug him as much as he wanted.

On the other side, Mingyu lived for physical contact; he was definitely the clingy type. His biggest dream was having you in his lap, while playing with your hair and talking about how lucky he was to have you. In his fantasies he would hold your hand, hug you, kiss your cheek, then lips and even neck. Of course, some of his fantasies were less innocent than others but they all had the same effect on him: making his cheeks redden. Mingyu smiled shyly as he imagined this situation again.

* * *

Another few days have passed and you were done with your exams for this semester. Which meant only one thing for your coffee-deprived or more specifically, Mingyu-deprived self: visiting the coffee shop and making things clear with Mingyu. It has been two weeks since you found his number on your cup and you couldn’t wait to ask him about it. Now it was the perfect moment – you had a feeling that today was the best day to do that. The only thing that tried to ruin your plans was your classes which were late in the afternoon – your last class was until 6 pm which was also the time the coffee shop closed. You had no other option but to leave class early to go and finally visit Mingyu. You truly hated these exams that made it impossible for you to hear Mingyu’s sweet like honey voice every day and to see his cute sharp canine teeth which made his smile even more charming.

As you looked at your phone’s clock, you were nervously tapping your foot on the floor while waiting for it to show you the right time to go. You were too bored in this class so you decided to leave even earlier than you intended at first. You got up from your place impatiently, put all your stuff in your bag as you took it and went to the professor’s desk to tell him you were feeling unwell before leaving the classroom and starting walking in the direction of the coffee shop.

The weather outside was cold but you didn’t feel it – you were too excited to meet Mingyu and that thought made you feel indescribable warmth deep down in your heart. You were practically running towards the coffee shop, ignoring all the people there on the street; you were running so fast that you almost bumped in a street sign. You patted your head even though you didn’t hit it that hard as you decided to slow down a little. Even though you were panting you didn’t stop walking towards your wanted destination. You took your phone out of your jacket’s pocket and you checked the time again. When you saw it was almost 6 pm you started running again and you got in front of the café only 7 minutes before it closed. You sighed as you brushed the sweat off your forehead with one of your hands and fixed your messy hair with the other. You didn’t have time to check yourself in the mirror or in your phone’s screen but you were sure you looked disastrously. You didn’t really want your crush to see you like that but you didn’t have any choice; if he really liked you, he would accept you even that way. And knowing Mingyu, you didn’t think he would mind this.

You could see Mingyu’s shocked expression when he heard your footsteps and saw your face while you were standing on the doorstep. You smiled shyly as you closed the door, entering the café. Mingyu was cleaning the tables and the café was almost empty – you and him were the only ones that were there. When he saw you, he stopped cleaning the table and went behind the counter, never breaking eye contact with you.

“Y/N…” he said quietly as you got closer to the counter. “Mingyu… Hi,” you greeted him awkwardly. “Uhm… Do you want any coffee or something sweet? We have some new-“

You cut him off. You could tell he was feeling uncomfortable talking to you so casually. He was pretending that nothing happened but the way he was treating you showed you he was definitely awkward because of the fact he wrote your number on his cup and you ignored him for two weeks. He didn’t want to bring it up so he acted like that instead.

“I actually came to talk to you,” you said, gathering up all your courage. “M-me?” Mingyu stuttered as his cheeks reddened.

‘What is he so cute for?’ you asked yourself without telling it out loud.

“Yes… How do I say it… Ah, that’s really embarrassing,” you confessed, laughing softly. Mingyu also laughed, looking at you with such adoration that made your heart melt. “You wrote your number on my cup recently. I’m still not sure what that means but I really want to know because I don’t want to think something you didn’t mean and…” you talked way too fast, trying to contain your mixed emotions but it wasn’t possible. This only made you more frustrated. “Ugh, sorry I couldn’t come to talk to you these past few days. I just had so many exams and I had to study but I couldn’t stop thinking about you and-… Oh my God,” you said as you felt Mingyu’s finger in contact with your lips. You were definitely caught off guard. It wasn’t as if his lips were in contact with yours but it was definitely something surprising. He looked at you with a serious expression, still keeping his finger on your lips.

“You’re so cute I want to kiss you right now,” he admitted as you looked at him wide eyed. Your cheeks immediately reddened as your heart started beating faster. “Wha-what?” you asked shyly, not believing what you heard just a few seconds ago. “I was so surprised that you came here. I thought I made you feel uncomfortable and you didn’t like me back because you didn’t come earlier. But I thought about you too. I did it a lot.”

You smiled at him while wondering what to say to really convince him you liked him back. “I like you so much, Mingyu. I have always liked you.” “Stop, you’re making me feel shy,” he pouted jokingly, stepping aside from the counter and going next to you. “But you’re the one who said you wanted to kiss me! Or you don’t think I felt shy hearing that?” you teased him playfully.

Before you proceeded what was happening, he put his hand on the back of your head as he pulled you closer and kissed you softly. When he pulled back, you were looking at him with surprise written on your face. But you definitely loved it so much. He pressed his lips against yours again but this time the kiss was more passionate, messy and long. You just couldn’t get enough of him so you put your hands around his waist, desperately needing to feel him in more ways.

When you both pulled away you were breathing heavily but still looking at each other. You couldn’t believe that really happened; you almost thought you were dreaming but what made you happier was that at the same time you clearly realized this was completely real. You felt so happy that you couldn’t describe it.

“Miss Choco Latte,” he said with a smile on his face. “Your lips are sweeter than chocolate. But can I ask why your hair looks like that and why do you look as if you just finished running a marathon?” You sighed as you tried fixing your hair again before he touched it and fixed it himself. “Well… I actually left class earlier just so I can come and see you before you close for today. I was running to get here on time and…” you blushed while explaining.

“You’re so adorable. You did this because of me… I think you deserve a chocolate latte and a muffin. My boss isn’t here to stop me from giving them to you for free. Also I can leave the coffee shop when I want to so we can stay here for as long as we wish,” he smiled widely.

He went to flip the sign on the door so that it showed it was closed for today. You nodded excitedly as you followed him to the counter again. He went behind it while you stayed in front of him with your elbow on the counter, propping up your chin. You watched the way his hands moved as if he was too good to be real.

“If you keep watching me like that there’s a high chance I mess up your drink,” he warned you with a chuckle but you continued looking at him lovingly. “Stop being so handsome and I’ll stop watching you… Maybe.” “Stop flirting with me and distracting me from my work, or I won’t give you your drink and the muffin,” he threatened jokingly. “Haven’t you realized that already? I don’t really care about the coffee. You are the real reason I kept vising this coffee shop. I needed you to give me happiness and energy every day,” you confessed, smiling at him.

He was definitely flustered but he couldn’t be happier at this moment. After he was ready with your drink and chose a muffin for you, both of you sat on a table and continued talking about everything and flirting not so subtly. That night you both stayed at the coffee shop until early morning, chatting and making each other blush uncontrollably. Mingyu kept proving to you that he was way sweeter than any chocolate latte that existed in the world.

#seventeen #mingyu #kpop #kim mingyu #fluff #kpop scenario #seventeen scenario #seventeen fic #seventeen fluff #mingyu fluff #mingyu fic #mingyu scenario #seventeen imagines #minygu imagine #svt

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hippychick006 · 4 years

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15.11: The Gamblers - Episode Review/Recap

This ep follows directly on from last week. The episode was very mixed, there were 2 distinct storylines that merged at the end. I had a few issues with the Castiel/Jack side of the story, which I’ll cover later, but the Sam and Dean scenes, for the most part, I was able to enjoy. I even caught myself smiling… fucking smiling at several moments, because this? This was a glimpse of what my show once was. This also explains to the “Just stop watching” brigade why I’m still watching. The brother scenes were a nugget of gold amongst the dross and worth watching for.

Thank you, Davey Perez, Meredith Glynn and Director Charles Beeson for reminding me, albeit briefly, why I fell in love with this show, and at the same time, why I dislike much of Dabb’s run, which in my humble opinion hasn’t just veered the ship slightly off course; it crashed into an iceberg in 11.21 and has been slowly sinking since then. I think last week’s episode brought us to the point where half the ship is now vertical, ready to plunge into the depths of the icy ocean...

...Anyway, enough about sinking ships, the key thing I struggled with going into this episode is the obvious fuck up from the previous week; the entire premise of the Winchester’s losing their “luck” and being reduced to “normal” people, and I want to talk rant about that for a few more minutes before we get onto this episode. If you want to skip that, I’ll put start and end of rant, so you can skip forward.

Start of rant

In order to enjoy this episode, you pretty much have to ignore much of the previous episode and… that doesn’t sit well with me. Last week wasn’t just a single scene you can forget ever existed (e.g. the trench-coat scene or Dean’s apology to Cass). What Dabb did fucked with the entire concept of the show; that the Winchesters are ordinary people who do extraordinary things. So, it’s really difficult to shake that epic fuck up off and just move on.

I just can’t ever buy in to the concept that the Winchesters were “favoured” or have more luck than “normal” people. I mean look at Sam’s life for starters; he didn’t know his mom, he was fed demon blood as a baby, was dragged up in a life he hated, constantly moving, being brought up in crappy motels and forced to train to become a hunter. The love of his life is murdered, and he becomes an orphan at 22. He died at 23 (for the first time) and then he loses the last remaining member of his family at 24. The Winchesters are far from “lucky” and if I could be bothered, I’d go looking for mentions of “with the Winchester luck” that have been peppered throughout the series. Chuck has not “favoured” the Winchesters at all and they haven’t had Charmed lives because of Chuck’s interference.

I also can’t buy into the concept that the Winchesters are anything other than “normal” in the first place. Sadly, they showed last weeks “fight” scenes during the recap and it did nothing, other than enrage me again. Sam and Dean are excellent fighters and hunters because they trained from a young age to be as good as they are. They weren’t “given” anything and certainty not a free ride and fuck Dabb once again for writing that bullshit. It was nothing less than petty because we rejected his instant Hunter!Barbie fiasco that wasted too much of season 13.

So, how do I move forward from that and manage to enjoy this episode? The answer in my opinion, is you can’t, because even with a few good brother moments, the entire premise of this week’s episode fails to make sense, because the previous episode fails to make sense. I’ll cover why that is when we get to the pool game.

End Rant

The episode opens on a recap, and I ask myself why they are using all the bad bits from the previous few episodes, before I remember there weren’t many good bits to select from. That clip of Jensen with the teeth is still funny. 😂

I love the intro again this week. The setting was good, the guest actors, the camerawork, the music choice – North to Alaska - which complimented the scene, rather than felt like nails being dragged down a chalkboard. All classic spn so far, so it has my attention.

Two men (Joey and Leonard) are playing a game of pool and you can tell this is a high stakes game from the get go. What the stakes are, we don’t yet know, but when the game ends, we see 2 coins being held in a contraption above the pool table; one glows green then dulls with the coin head disappearing, the other glows green and gets brighter with the coin head gaining in definition. I don’t think this looks good for the loser. He agrees and tries to attack the winner with his pool cue. He’s stopped from doing so by a bouncer who turfs him outside. 👋 cutie tall bouncer. There’s an absolutely great shot of the loser tossing his coin in the air and the music gets loud again (Hey, I’m here as much for the settings, lighting, music and camerawork as I’m here for the Winchesters – sue me) and then…. Splat. He’s hit by a truck. Poor Leonard, red shirt of the episode. RIP my friend.

As an aside, I like how you guys announce which pocket the 8 ball is going into, we don’t do that.

This was a great into, interesting premise that immediately sucked me in, wanting to find out more. This is my show. Great job so far.

The next scene though shows once again how useless, at least for me, the writing is around Castiel. They wrote an entire scene with him walking into the bunker, seeing a note that has been left, going down to read it “Cass, we’ve gone to Alaska, Sam”. I’m not going to rant about the twats that insist on saying Sam has spelt it wrong, I’ve already done a post about the arrogance of fans trying to tell the show that created the character that they are wrong with the spelling of that character, so I’ll save you by moving on.

This entire scene, while I liked the shots of the otherwise empty bunker, was just wasting time for me. I’ve seen people say Sam left a note because Castiel was in heaven and wouldn’t get a text message and how clever of Sam to resort to paper. I don’t know about anyone else, but I dip in and out of WiFi zones all the time and the moment I dip back in, my phone pings with multiple notifications, so I personally thought this scene was dumb. It would have been better to see Castiel appear back at the sandpit and get a text notification from Sam with the same message.

Even better, you could take this scene away and it changes nothing that happens so why include it? *Whispers* J2 wanted time off and the writers are incompetent of filling that space with something more interesting so use “filler”.

Interestingly, my computer froze on Castiel’s face for 5 minutes so fuck you Norton or Windows 10 Update for your bad timing in running something in the “background”

BROMENT ALERT

We’re finally with what I’m watching the show for. Dean and Sam are in baby and driving towards Alaska. Sam’s phone is lighting up with messages and we find out through Dean that it’s Eileen. 🙄. Oh, Eileen’s being shoved into the narrative now? Sorry Eileen, the third wheel position on the show has already been filled since Season 7. And fuck you again Dabb because I loved Eileen as a friend of Sam and it’s just yet another thing your reverse Midas fingers have screwed over this season.

Dean: Silent mode is always an option

Me: I love you, have my babies… wait, that came out wrong

Eileen thinks the plan is a little too good to be true. Sam thinks she might be right. He’s not convinced the place even exists or that it can fix their problem. Dean thinks it couldn’t hurt and he’s done with normal, including the constant heartburn.

Sam: You know if you changed your diet…. Dean’s frown 😂

Sam insists that no one other than Garth has heard of it and it isn’t in the lore. Dean believes it’s got to be there. He believes Chuck isn’t messing with them,

Dean: He [Chuck] wants us off our game, he wants us weak, ‘cos he’s coming for us Sammy, and when he does, and we haven’t figured this out, we’re DOA.

Mostly a great brother scene, apart from the forced insertion of Eileen – are we incapable of getting a broment in the final chuck damn season, without the completely unnecessary forced inclusion of a third party???! The scene ends with a great shot of baby.

Back at the bunker and Castiel hears a phone ringing, and… I’m trying not to nitpick, but the way this case comes about just annoys me. There are better ways of bringing this about, than how they did it. But moving on, Castiel answers a random phone that was ringing in Sam’s room, and it’s a sheriff (Jeb Evans) looking for FBI agent, Watts. Castiel tells the sheriff that Agent Watts is working a case in Alaska, and that he is Agent… Lizzo. I can only assume Dean gave him that alias as I don’t think Castiel would know any musicians on his own. I like Jeb, who tells Agent Lizzo, they have a homicide and the suspect is someone Agent Watts flagged into the system… and guys… Sam is back to hacking into police systems and I just… I need a moment here as they’ve remembered Sam can hack into systems!

The agent tells Castiel that the suspect is Jack Kline.

Ummm… Castiel, are you... okay? Do you… do you maybe need to use the bathroom? Oh, you’re emoting? Okay dokay then. I can’t with this. I got more out of Leo in the less than 2 minutes he was on screen than I got out of Castiel since his return in season 7.

Back with the impala, which rolls into a diner stop. Sam is asleep, and Dean whacks him to wake him up. Sam wonders why they’ve stopped at “Round up café”. Dean says it’s the last stop for food for a few hundred miles.

Sam (frowns): Grab something out of the cooler

Dean: Yeah, no, I polished off the last of the sandwiches while you were out

Sam (annoyed): We’re on a budget!

Me (sighing): platonic soulmate Husbands! 😍

Last weeks puppy dog eyes fiasco aside, Dean’s still wrapped round Sam’s fingers, they enter the diner, slap some coins on the counter and ask what they can get for $4.60. Apparently, it’s a slice of pie and a coffee, and I’m moving to Alaska when they secede from the US because that would barely get you just the coffee here.

Dean asks for two forks for the pie

Me (sighing): platonic soulmate Husbands! 😍

Long story short on this scene, they get out of the waitress there’s a local urban legend about a magic poolhall in the middle of nowhere, that if you win, you come back lucky. She says though that no one ever comes back. Turns out she knew Leonard from the intro, and he went up there because the bank was going to take his house and he met with an accident.

Sam says at least they know now what the downside is. Dean doesn’t agree, he thinks it could be great, pool is the game of champions, kings, his game, our game, and they have great memories of hustling pool

Sam: yes, because we had to… to eat!

Still not seeing the “luck” Dabb wrote about. Imagine thinking they were remotely lucky; running scams or hustling pool to put a roof over their head or food in their stomach. And this is where I disconnect with this week’s episode, because of last week’s writing. How are they going to even be good at pool, a game that takes practice and skill? The things taken away seem to be random and plot devices; lock picking, fighting, hot metal burns, while it appears Dean can still drive okay, fix baby and I’m guessing their pool is going to be okay too, otherwise what’s the point of this episode? There’s no believable rules to this “bad luck/normal” and I’m left completely drifting and because of it. It's just badly thought out and executed.

Dean: if pool is the way we get our mojo back then maybe we ain’t as screwed as we thought

Waitress: Hey, you guys drive an impala?... I think you guys have a flat.

😂

Back with Cass and sheriff Jeb, Cass has managed to set up the laptop and access a video the sheriff has sent him. The video is of Jack killing a doctor and eating his heart. 😷 Jack, no! I’ll come back to the heart eating later.

Back with the boys, another shot of baby as they pull into “Lurlenes”. Baby isn’t sounding too good and I think I missed that earlier, but it did somewhat register that she was sounding louder than normal. Good touch.

Dean walks over one of the coins as they head for the entrance which I guess might be Leonard’s from earlier. I like little details like this. Once inside, Sam points out they don’t have beer money, much less what it costs to buy into a game. Dean says they’ll figure something out and goes to the bar and orders two waters. I’m guessing that’s going to hit Dean more than health conscious Sam. Dean asks the bar person, Evie, how they get into a game. She calls Pax over and it’s the tall, cutie bouncer from earlier. Sam asks Evie if she saw Leonard and she says no, but you can tell she’s lying.

Pax takes them to his office and explains the rules of the game, that they don’t bet with money, they bet with luck. He gets Dean to touch a coin he puts down and it turns green. Pax looks at the coin and says “not great”

Dean: And that means?

Pax explains that everyone walks in with a certain amount of luck, that the green glow was Dean’s and it was “about average.” Dean thinks that sounds about right. I’m going to head-canon that Dean’s luck is about average of the people that find the pool hall, but below average in general, due to Chuck screwing around with them.

Pax says if Dean wins a game, he might see his fortunes improve.

Sam: And if he loses?

Pax says he can keep playing, but if the coin goes blank, that means you’re out of luck, and you’ve got to leave. He asks if they’ve got any questions.

Sam (a bit pissy): What is this place? Who owns it?

Pax says he doesn’t know, but if they don’t like it, they are free to leave.

Dean: When I win, can I split it (indicates Sam)… the luck?

Pax (sighing): platonic soulmate Husbands! 😍 Oh, wait, sorry, that was me

Pax: it’s yours, you can do what you want

Sam asks for a second to talk to his husband brother.

Sam: no, no, no, no, no way (complete with shaking finger)

Dean: man, I’ve been slinging pool cues since before you were born

Snarky!Sam: when you were four, really? In between snack time and nap? 😂

Dean (internally): damn, I forgot you were my brother for a second and I can’t bullshit you

Dean tells Sam that they need to do this, and that Sam is pretty much better than him, at everything, he’s not mad about it, he’s proud… but he can wipe the floor with Sam at pool. Dean takes Sam’s epic eyeroll as silent permission he can play.

Back with Castiel, he investigates the doctor’s office and finds a weird case which has a sword inside. We flashback to a previous episode with Sam tied to a chair (🙄 it must have been a Thursday). Anyway, the flashback tells us the doctor was one of the Grigori, a brotherhood of perfect beings. I’d forgotten about them and might have to look them up before I touch the heart eating thing. Note: I did look them up and it was a Claire episode, so never mind, that’s why I forgot about them.

We transition from Cas to Jack and he seems to be following someone with the same case as the doctor, so another Grigori. He follows the Grigori into an abandoned building.

Back at the pool hall and no one is biting to play with the noob. Okay, I’m ashamed to say I laughed at this next bit, Dean deliberately breaks badly and loudly proclaims that he’s rusty at this. Oh Dean. No one’s going to fall for… Surprisingly he actually gets a taker and asks Dean to rack up. Sam goes back to the bar to speak to Evie. She asks if he plays and he says not really. Sam asks Evie what the woman’s deal is that’s playing Dean (Moira). Evie says she’s been here a while and her sister is in a coma.

Sam goes into awkward question mode, and I have flashbacks to the earlier seasons. He asks about rotten eggs. Evie responds: Just Charlie… We pan over to Charlie and he’s playing pool badly. Sam then asks if she’s seen “little bundles” laying around. She says no, but she gets that he’s trying to figure the place out. Sam says places like this don’t exist for no reason, she answers that most people think it’s a godsend. She gives him information on a couple of people playing, they won at first, could have walked away winners, but kept playing until their luck ran sour. She repeats they should have walked away which is a clear warning for Sam who looks over at his brother who wins the game.

Back with Jack, he’s got an angel blade and is still after the Grigori. Unfortunately, the Grigori twigged he was being followed and now has Jack at blade point.

Back at the pool hall and Sam is trying to convince Dean they need to leave, and I’m trying not to be distracted by the picture in the scene behind them.

Dean (brandishing his coin at Sam): Come on man, I’m on a roll

Snarky!Sam: Dean, you won one game!

Sam thinks the place sucks you in and that if Dean keeps playing, he’ll lose and end up like Leonard. Dean convinces Sam who reluctantly allows him to have one more game.

Me (sighing): platonic soulmate Husbands! 😍

Dean finds his mark, which is Joey from the intro. We see Dean playing well and Joey asks what his name was again.

Dean: my name is Dean Winchester and I am going to kick your ass.

Sam: 😍 that’s my platonic soulmate husband brother

Joey smiles.

They talk as Dean clears the table. Turns out Joey used to work the bull riding circuit.

Dean (cocky smile): tell me, how was that?… corner pocket. He misses the shot

Joey (grinning): good times (he pots and all he can do is hide the cue ball behind another ball, giving Dean a very tricky shot on the 8 ball)… and some not so good.

Dean goes to take the shot and Joey challenges double or nothing if Dean misses. Sam doesn’t like it. Dean asks if Joey is trying to hustle him.

Joey: I thought you were going to kick my ass

Dean smiles and agrees to the deal, does a trick shot with the cue ball jumping over the other ball and potting the 8 ball.

Joey closes his eyes. Sam looks happy, then Joey says: a hell of a shot.

Dean watches as the coins glow green and Joey’s coin is now dull, and this is sad because even if Sam and Dean haven’t realised the implication yet, Joey is not long for this world. Joey leaves, and Sam and Dean follow. Joey congratulates Dean on the game yet again and says, “I guess you can’t hustle a hustler.” Sam’s concerned when Joey starts coughing. Turns out Joey is dying, he has cancer, he came to the pool hall to beat it, and Sam and Dean have finally caught up with me that this game sucks. This is the first time in a long time, I’ve felt anything for a character on this show that we only meet for a limited time in a single episode, so I’m going to kudos the writing and the guest star for this one. This is what happens when you actually put some characterisation into your writing.

Sam and Dean go back inside. Dean said the plan worked so they should hit the road.

Sam: What about everybody else?

Sam wants to stay and figure out how they can help them. Dean reminds him they are in a fight with God and they just got their mojo back. Sam challenges whether there’s even enough luck in the coin for them. Dean says they’ll give it a try by him going for a drive and if baby’s okay, they are leaving. End of.

Back with Castiel and he meets sheriff Jeb at the abandoned building Jack was captured in. A transient spotted Jack going into the building so called the police. Castiel asks Jeb if there are any other abandoned places around. Jeb tells him about a church.

Back with Sam and he’s talking to Charlie, who is apparently playing so his team can win the Super Bowl and part of me is 😂 and part of me is, I feel you my friend, because Canucks and the Stanley Cup, and desperate measures at this stage.

Sam: that’s great, it is, but is it really worth your life?

Me (picturing the Stanley cup being paraded through the streets of Vancouver): …Yes?!

The puppy dog eyes fail again, Charlie says “just one more game.” And goes back to playing

Evie says at least Sam tried but no one will listen. She says none of “us” are going anywhere. Sam asks if they are trapped here, if Evie was trapped here. She leaves rapidly.

Dean arrives back, baby’s dead again, he didn’t even make it out of the parking lot. Sam takes a look at the coin Dean slams down. He believes Dean should have won more luck than he did, given how many people Joey likely beat before Dean played him and all that accumulated luck should have gone to Dean when he won, but it doesn’t seem to. Sam thinks someone is stealing the luck, skimming off the top.

Dean: You mean like the house?

Sam (lifts coin showing head): her… I think

Dean takes the coin and reads: Atrox Fortvnta

Sam says she’s the Roman goddess of luck. So, Sam’s allowed to be smart as a plot contrivance this week? *cough* hot metal burns *cough*.

They go speak to Evie about who runs the place. She says she can’t help them. Sam asks why she warned him in the first place. Evie says so he would take his brother and go. Dean asks why Evie is there, does the god have something over her. Evie says she played and lost and is only alive because she lets her stay as long as she keeps working. Sam asks if the god is here, but Evie doesn’t know, she only talks to Pax and drops the revelation that Pax is the god’s son.

Back with Jack and the Grigori has injured him and holding him captive. He knows what Jack is and that he’s powerful. The Grigori wants to know why Jack killed his kind. The Grigori have their own frequency of angel radio. Me, 🙄 of course you do because easy plot device. Before his brother died, he called to the Grigori. He asks Jack if he did that to draw him out, to kill him too.

Back with Sam and Dean, Sam approaches Pax wanting to ask a question. While Pax is focused on Sam, Dean grabs him and holds him at knifepoint.

Sam (niceness gone): Where’s your mom?

Loved that bit

Pax doesn’t answer so Sam shouts “Fortuna.” Dean follows with, “We have your son”

Moira walks through the pool hall and we know she is now Fortuna.

Sam says they know she’s skimming luck and they want it back. Dean threatens to kill Pax if she doesn’t

Fortuna: well, you probably could, his daddy was human, but no

Pax (shocked pikachu face): Mom!

Fortuna: I’m sorry baby, I can always make more sons

Sam and Dean (shocked pikachu faces).

Uh oh, leverage gone. Dean releases Pax, but not before the blade cuts his throat a little.

Dean demands Fortuna to play him for it. She says she’s already played him and got a read on him. He’s just a “beach read”. Sexy, but skimmable.

Dean (how dare you face): beach read? lady, I’m Tolstoy

Fortuna laughs and says, “That’s very funny” and approaches Sam: this one here, now he could be interesting

Dean (Protective big brother mode activated): Wait, no, no, that’s…. Uh uh

Sam (I’m 36 years old Dean, not a kid anymore mode activated): Fine… Yeah, okay, but not for our luck. I’ll play for the lives of everybody in here.

Fortuna doesn’t agree, she says the deal is only for their luck and if they lose, she wants their lives. She wants to make an example of them.

The Grigori is torturing Jack, cutting his skin. Jack says he can’t kill him. There’s then expose on the Grigori feeding off souls, and this one feeds off children. I think I’m supposed to not feel sorry for the Grigori when Jack eats his heart, but I do have a few issues which I’ll come onto later. Jack looks to the side and it’s clear he catches something. The Grigori reaches for his sword and points it at Jack’s throat. He asks who told Jack that. He answers Death.

The Grigori senses someone behind him. Now given the Grigori are supposed to be elite and much more powerful than ordinary angels, I’m embarrassed for this one and have no idea how on Earth this Grigori managed to survive to being last of his kind as even Castiel despatched him fairly easily, without too much of a fight, but “new canon” I guess. 🤷‍♀️

With no tests whatsoever, Castiel releases Jack from his bonds. I’m presuming one of Castiel random powers of the week is being able to automatically tell it’s Jack. We get a Cass and Jack hug and I … don’t really care to be honest. I can’t watch Cass without viewing that awful scene in Purgatory so I’m over him.

Back at the pool hall, Sam breaks, potting 2 balls immediately. I love, love, love this next bit: as Sam lines up his next shot, we see Dean nodding in agreement, because yep, that’s the shot he would have went for too. Sam proceeds to knock down a couple more, Fortuna has said a couple of things, but Sam is focusing on the game. She asks why they need the luck so bad, girlfriend problems? Liver failure? (She looks at Dean here). Sam answers: “a curse by god” and misses the next shot.

Fortuna: Life’s a bitch and then you die

Me: Hey! That’s my philosophy!

Dean: THE god literally cursed us

Fortuna (sarcastic disbelief): You’ve met

Dean: Yeah, Little guy, squirrelly as hell

Fortuna: Yeah, that’s him… well, welcome to the club

Dean: the club?

Fortuna answers with exposition while winning the game. God created the world, but humans created the gods, kind of, which led to God creating the other gods. Dean asks why, which makes her angry and she misses the next shot. She says they were created to take the blame for anything that went wrong. That only worked for a while before his ego got the better of him, now he hides behind whatever religion pays the biggest syndication deals. She keeps talking about how pissed she is and that she’s holding a grudge. Sam meanwhile is quietly potting balls and winning the game. She realises this and shakes off her mood, “oh well, what can you do?”

Dean: we’re going to fight him

Fortuna: are you now? And when you lose?

Sam’s voice from off screen: we lose swinging

He then appears in shot and says “8 ball, corner pocket” and she realises the game is nearly over.

Sam lines up for the shot, looks at Dean briefly, then… he wins. I wasn’t expecting that, and Dean is happy too.

Fortuna (to Sam): you little minx, you got me talking!

Sam smirks

Fortuna: you’re good

Sam: I learned from my brother

Dean approaches: all right, you know the deal, even up

Fortuna offers to make it interesting, if they are going to fight God, that’s the stuff of heroes and they are going to need the luck of heroes. Hercules, some other people, she helped them all. Sam asks what the catch is. She says another game, double or nothing.

Dean: Double? That’s how the cowboy died.

Sam agrees to play, “but not for more luck,” he indicates the room, “for them. If I win, you have to let them go.”

Fortuna: I’m not stopping them

Sam: Okay, when I win, you have to give back the luck you stole, close up shop

Fortuna: What is with you and these losers? They’re nothing, they don’t matter

Sam: they matter to me

Dean: they matter to us

Everyone in the poolhall (sighing): platonic soulmate Husbands! 😍

Fortuna agrees. She breaks, and it all goes downhill from there. Sam doesn’t even get to play a shot.

They lost. There’s silence

Fortuna: you challenged the goddess of luck in her own joint, what did you think was going to happen?

Me: pretty much this tbh, I’m actually surprised Sam won the first game

Dean: well, we had to try

Fortuna: well, that was stupid

My poor boys. They leave the poolhall.

Dean: I thought she was going to kill us

Sam: well she doesn’t have to, our luck will do that on its own … Dean, we can’t just…

Dean:… leave ‘em? Yeah, I know.

Me (sighing): platonic soulmate Husbands! 😍

Dean: all right, well let’s go get WiFi and see what kills Lady Luck, we’ll circle back

Sam’s agreeing when Evie comes out, followed by the other players. They ask her what happened. She says Fortuna shut it down. They ask why

Evie: Because of you, she said she thought your kind had gone extinct

Sam: Our kind?

Evie: Heroes, like the old days

Fortuna also gave her a message to pass on, “Don’t play Chucks game, make him play yours.

She hands Sam a coin which he somewhat reluctantly takes. He holds it in his closed fist as she walks away. He opens his hand and we see the coin glow green on his skin. Dean “grabby hands” Winchester snatches the coin, getting a glare from Sam and the coin glows green in his hand too.

They get into the car and Dean fires up the engine. “We’re back baby!”

Aww, Dean called Sam baby.

Me (sighing): platonic soulmate Husbands! 😍

Also me: You can take your “Castiel is a lamp” sub zero text and whack yourself over the head with it.

They drive away. And I’m left behind wondering if they’ve got their “normal” luck back or the supercharged hero luck that Sam said he didn’t want and that’s why he was reluctant to take the coin.

They arrive back at the bunker. Dean’s scratching lottery cards and doesn’t win. So much for the superhero luck.

Sam consoles his husband brother that they might not have won the lottery, but they have no car trouble, the credit cards work again, and Dean was able to eat back to back bacon double cheeseburgers, that didn’t kill him. So…

Dean: that was beautiful by the way… I’m just saying, would it have killed her to give us a little extra?

Sam: well, she thinks we’re really heroes, maybe they don’t get all the answers

Well hopefully that conversation answered my concern from earlier.

Cass appears, looking shifty (when doesn’t he tbh). They know something is wrong and Sam asks him. He steps aside and Jack appears. Jack dorky waves hello and we all melt and immediately forget he killed their mom and did some other really naughty stuff that at the very least should get him a time out. Apparently, Dean and Sam forget too. This scene is shot with Jack and Cass at one side of the reading room and Sam and Dean on the other.

Sam: Jack?

Castiel (to Sam): it’s really him

Sam walks over to Jack first and gets quicker as he reaches him and we get a Sam and Jack hug, and since I didn’t get one in season 14, I’ll ignore the mom killing, heart eating etc. for a few minutes and enjoy the hell out of this one. Yes, I’m fickle! But I loved this nougat eating baby before Dabb ruined him.

Dean walks across more slowly, reaches and grasps Jack behind his neck, staring into his face as if checking it’s really him. I think he’s struggling to see past the burnt-out eyes which was their last view of him. He looks briefly at Cass once. To me it’s a silent thank you (headcanon for bringing Jack back for Sam in particular), and an equally silent, you’re welcome. Jack looks a little apprehensive as obviously the last time he was alive, Dean was going to shoot him, stopped only by Sam.

They all have a beer at the map table, Sam asks Jack about eating hearts, so it’s good that hasn’t been hidden. Jack said he had to.

Dean (to Castiel): and you let him?

Castiel nods (likely waiting for the anger for doing the wrong thing)

Dean (shrugs): hmmm

And… that is not my Dean. They’ve turned him into a neutered house cat and idiots are calling it “growth”. And all I can hope is that his natural instincts fight their way through, I believe it’s wrong to trust Jack is okay eating hearts, even of ones that eat children’s souls and I hope we see that develop as we progress.

Sam: you could have called us

Jack: every day I wanted to come home, but I couldn’t

Dean: why not?

Jack: because if I don’t stay hidden, if I use my powers, my grandfather, he’ll know I’m back, and try and kill me… again… he’s afraid of me, and that’s why we had to wait.

Castiel: Billy kept him hidden in the empty, until Chuck went off world

Jack: she let me out when it was safe

Dean: safe to what? Eat a bunch of angel hearts?

Jack: safe to do what I have to.

Turns out the hearts were just the beginning, they made Jack strong, but not strong enough. If Jack follows her plan, he’ll get stronger and he’ll be able to kill god.

Sam and Dean (in winsync): bitch please, this is our show!

Not really, that was just me and we end on that note. I could wish we had ended on “The Gambler” by Kenny Rogers, but season 15 music budget. Sigh.

So, I have a few other issues with this episode, particularly with the Jack side of the storyline, off the top of my head;

1) I’m hoping we aren’t sweeping what he did in season 14 under a rug, a la Castiel.

2) I’m hoping we aren’t just going to support him eating hearts (even of bad angels) without fully investigating what this supposed plan is.

3) I’m struggling with the heart thing anyway. I don’t believe an angel has a heart to eat, only the human vessel does so I’m going to need an explanation on why eating human hearts is supposedly goring to make jack stronger, and why we don’t care about the human vessel

4) I’m struggling with how a lesser god can give back what God took away, even if that lesser god is the goddess of luck, God still trumps her.

Other than that, I think Death is bad now, or at least Billy’s version of death is. I think they changed course on wanting to kill the Winchesters a couple of seasons ago when they realised they could play a part in them reaping God. Possible reason, just being tired after all this time, and wanting it all to end. And it can’t end before Chuck dies. Possible power play.

I still think Chuck will die. I still think the Winchesters will become firewalls, not sure what Jack is, other than a toddler whose power needs to be bound until he can wield it responsibly, and Castiel is going to sacrifice himself at some point. And the less we say about Eileen, the better.

Next episode is up after Hellatus the welcome break from the caricature this show has become

#spn spoilers #15.11 #The Gamblers #episode review #episode recap #anti castiel #spn critical #anti saileen #anti eileen

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rage-is-babey · 4 years

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Flustered Gays Drink Coffee Together (1/2)

Pairing: Sleepage

Warnings: Food mentions, (accidental) misgendering, and I think that’s it but if you see more, let me know!

Word count: 574

Summary: Rich just wanted to get some coffee and that was it, they didn’t need to gay panic too.

A/N: Hey I’m back! Few things you need to know for this. Rage’s name is Rich and they use they/them pronouns (I might’ve misgendered them a few times :p). Also, this is set in a high school AU, enjoy!

(Part 1) (Part 2)

Rich walked into the café, they rarely stopped at places like this, but Patton was eager to go. The place had a cozy aesthetic, with its dark gray walls and mint green accents. They walked over to the counter, assuming that’s where they would order. An African American man walked over to them, with a name tag that read, ‘Caleb’. Caleb would’ve blended into any crowd if he didn't have blue tips of hair that stood out from his ordinary uniform.

“Good afternoon you lovely gents, what can I get for you today?” Caleb smiled at both of them as he pulled out a notebook and pen. Rich cringed from the masculine word applied to them but they brushed it off. Their eyes scanned the menu as Patton made his order.

“I’ll have a… Smoked Butterscotch Frappuccino, in your smallest size please,” Patton said, tapping his fingers onto the counter, which slightly jiggled his blue bracelet.

“And your name is?”

“Oh, it’s Patton.”

Caleb scribbled down the order onto the paper and looked over to Rich. “And what are you having today?”

“Well-” Rich didn’t quite plan out their order, so they chose something random from the board “-how about your Dark Chocolate Mocha.”

“Alright, the size of your drink and your lovely name?”

“Medium, and Rich”

Caleb wrote down the order, “That will be nine dollars and 43 cents, is there anything else I can get you?”

Patton shook his head and pulled out a ten-dollar bill from his pocket. Rich knew that they couldn’t debate with Patton on who was going to pay, so they let it slide.

“Alright, it’ll be right up, you can take a seat while you’re waiting.” Caleb flashed both of them a lovely smile before slipping the leftover change into Patton’s hand.

Alright, where to go? As soon as the thought entered Rich’s mind, Patton said something that slipped their attention and started walking away.

Curse their short attention span, curse it to hell.

Maybe it was to sit down? That sounds like something Patton would say. Rich looked around the room. It seemed like every table was full. Rich noticed a booth that only had 2 men in it, each sitting at different sides. The first man wore a black leather jacket with a white shirt underneath. Even though the room wasn’t that bright, he had sunglasses on.

The person sitting across from him was wearing a black shirt that Rich couldn't see the front of. Both of the men had brown hair, but the first man's hair was a little lighter.

The man with the sunglasses looked over to Rich, but they immediately changed their view. The warm feeling of unease crept onto Rich’s neck. They focused on the wall of art that was a few feet away from them. People look at art, right? Whatever it’s a few more minutes and Patton will be back. Just a few minutes and Patton will be back, just a few more minutes, just a-

“Hey, hot stuff with the MCR shirt, wanna take a seat?” Rich looked back at the table and saw both of the men looking over to them. They pointed to themselves with a questioned expression. They didn’t want to walk over to the table to find out he was calling someone else.

“Yes, I'm talking to you, let's chat.”

#sleepage #highschool au

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fuckupsoverhere · 5 years

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Little Did I Know {Chapter Three}

Summary: While working in a local café, a mysterious man comes to your rescue. How will this end? Not very well. You should know that, but it would never stop you. Tom Holland x Reader

Word Count: 1162

Warnings: Abusive relationship- physical and verbal (I do not have any personal experience so if I have portrayed anything wrong, I would love constructive critisism), swearing

Note: Just wanted to say that I know that there hasn’t been a lot of Tom in here, yet. I just wanted there to be a proper story line. The next chapter will be out soon and it is going to be longer, with more Tom and will reveal a lot about what has been going on. Thank you if you’ve enjoyed this so far and please send me any mesasges about what you would like to see and anything that I am doing terrible (but please be constructive)

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As soon as he was sat in the driver’s seat, I knew that I was in for it. His hand settled on my thigh and started squeezing, I knew that there was going to be a massive bruise there in the morning, if there was already. As soon as his nails started breaking the skin on my thigh, I knew that I was in so much shit.

When we got to my apartment, his hand was on the small of my back, pushing me through the apartment to the living room. Once we were safely hidden away, the back of his hand made contact with my face. My whole body moved with the force of the smack.

“How dare you?” He shouted, “Who do you think you are, letting another man grab your hand?”

“It’s not what you think.” I whispered.

At this, he grabbed my hair and pulled me to look him in the face, “You’re a little whore. That’s what I think.” He gripped my face, watching the tears escape down my checks. Then he muttered, “pathetic.”

Letting go of my face, he raised his hand and slapped me again. The force took my whole body to the floor and I just stayed there, because I knew that there was no use fighting against him. If I let him get out what anger he had, it wouldn’t be too bad. But if I argued or fought back then it would be a hundred times worse. He gave me a couple of kicks before he grabbed my wrist and pulled. I could feel something move out of place and I started screaming like mental.

When I arrived at work, a couple of days later, I was wearing a lot of make-up to try and cover up the marks, but there was nothing that I could do about the cast on left hand. Regina immediately started to walk over to me when I entered the café, but I just shook my head, so she went back to work. I could see that Tom and Harrison were sat in the booth, looking at files and whispering to each other. There were an old couple sitting at a table, but not any other customers.

“Regina,” I called, and all eyes turned to me, “could you tie this for me?”

She walked over and tied up my apron for me, “Please tell me that you left him this time.”

“He didn’t mean to. He was just upset.” I made excuses for him and I could see her roll her eyes, “I just want to get through my shift in peace.”

I walked over to Tom and Harrison to see if they needed anything, but they looked like they had everything that they needed. Before I left, Tom asked me, “What happened to your arm and your face?”

“You can see it?”

“No but I can tell.” How? What did he do that made it so easy for him to tell when someone had been beaten up.

I looked down at my feet, “I was mugged.” I was used to telling this lie, I told it at least a fortnight.

“What really happened?”

“I was mugged.” I repeated as I got defensive, “Not that it is any of your business.”

I quickly walked away and sat at the counter. Regina and I started talking about random stuff, ignoring the obvious elephant in the room. I made us some chocolate milkshakes as she served the customers that had just entered. Once she got their orders, I made the drinks for them and waited for Regina to come back. I let her talk about her life and problems while I focused on the milkshake.

I jumped when a hand touched my shoulder, turning around I came face-to-face with my boss, “I’m going to pay for the milkshakes.”

“Don’t worry about that, it’s my treat for you two.” Tom told me, “I just wanted to make sure that you’re okay.”

“I’m fine, thanks.” I told him, “Sorry if I was a little harsh on you before.”

“I completely understand. Have you thought about my proposition?”

Regina looked at me with wide eyes but I ignored her, “I can’t do it. My boyfriend wouldn’t be too pleased about it.”

After nodding, Tom turned around and went back to his booth. As soon as he sat down, Tom and Harrison were watching you and talking, clearly about you. “What proposition?” Regina nearly yelled.

“He asked me out. Said that I’d even get paid for the shift that I’d miss tomorrow.” I whispered to her, “I couldn’t do that to Jamie”

“So, instead, you’re going to work your ass off here and then see that asshole afterwards?”

“He’s not that bad. He was just upset that Tom grabbed my hand. He didn’t mean to do this to me.” I lifted up my cast.

“That’s not an excuse.” Then she got a lot closer to me so that no one else would be able to hear her, “What if next time, he does something far worse than just break your wrist? I don’t want to come to work one day and find out that he’s” She couldn’t finish her sentence, but you both knew where she was going.

The thought scared me, it played on my mind a lot. Too much for your liking. What were my choices? I might die if I stayed with him, but I would definitely die if I tried to leave him. I smiled at Regina, while all of the hairs on my body stood up and I could feel a chill go through me. I couldn’t let anyone know how badly Jamie scared me, because, deep down, I still loved him.

When I had first started dating, Jamie acted like the type of gentleman that any young, naïve girl could wish for as he would pull out chairs for me and bring me food when I was ill. Jamie always paid for everything, despite all of my protests. If I fell asleep then he would cover me with a blanket and take my glasses off.

But now, if I even give the wrong look then he’d make my life a living hell. I could even remember the first time that he hurt me was after I smiled too largely at a fast food delivery driver. When I walked into the living room, Jamie threw the food out of my hands and I jumped backwards as food flew all around me. I had chow mein in my hair as Jamie screamed at me about how I was a “filthy whore”. He then pushed me onto the floor, slapped me across the face and walked out of the apartment.

I didn’t leave until after he left the apartment. As soon as I got the chance, I ran to the bathroom and locked myself in there. I sat in the shower, fully clothed as the water ran over my body.

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secretshinigami · 5 years

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Author: @translightyagami For: @kratqa Pairings/Characters: L, Light Yagami, Kiyomi Takada, Sayu Yagami, Kyosuke Higuchi Rating/Warnings: T for, you know. Murder happening off screen but its still gross. Prompt: Roleswap AU between L and Light. Author’s notes: I hope you like junior sleuths Light and Kiyomi, L and Ryuk having a mutual candy-and-TV = Death Note agreement, and letter-writing, because when I write a fic…you know there’s gonna b letters. i also appreciate your patience with any typos; I am a human with sticky fingers.

To-Oh during spring made Light’s skin crawl: love notes proliferated the campus from students not quite grown out of youthful notions; heat creeping beneath his sweaters, tugging at them as if to say short sleeves begged entrance; and the anniversary of his father’s heart attack—one year past—hung over all the landmarks no matter their relation to cardiac health. In that way, he noticed the newspaper story of the murderer who died of a heart attack blaring on a nearby kiosk. Without any real eye of the bizarre, Light didn’t notice things unless their relevance was near to his own life or those around him. Dark ink stared back at him, a jack-knifed business man laid out next to a graphic discussing murder statistics in the Kanto region. It was of no surprise or consequence to Light, whose policeman father made him all too aware of how life flitted from a people every day.

Slipping payment to the newsstand worker and stalking off to his next class, Light read through the story: a well-liked business man succumbing to a heart attack mid-quarter projections meeting and was found—after a house search was requested by the detective L—to have four intact human skeletons buried in his backyard. The wife, a woman with a name that flew in one ear and out the other, claimed no knowledge of her husband’s cruel hobby of picking up young men and then poisoning them with club drugs concocted in their garage; however, the great detective was said to still hold her in suspicion and no innocence was assumed.

A woman bumped into Light, who flicked his newspaper down and apologized for not paying attention. His thoughts were scrambled between happiness for a murderer slain and a stomachache—born not of bad food but an innate strangeness to what he’d just read. The newspaper went into his bag, the story out of his mind, and Light continued classes at To-Oh without much more than passing conversation devoted to “that criminal who died of a heart attack, can you believe it?”

Which, of course, wasn’t his last thought on the case. He chewed the flavor out of the incident, but in quiet. Light never liked to burden people with more than they could take and while his own voice was his favorite song, he knew people had limits. Off-hand, he mentioned the report to his father at dinner, whose murmured response left Light’s trap shut tight to further inquisitions.

“How troubling,” his father said. “We must treasure every day, and live our lives as honestly as possible.”

Three weeks later, in a smaller column, another criminal’s heart attack was reported; this time, Light didn’t pay for the newspaper as Kiyomi put her copy down in front of him. Her near-despot rule over the school’s journalism outfit drove her to often drop stories in front of him, asking for his interest and time to discuss various dictates of law enforcement. For this story, however, she asked not for his expertise, but instead to prod in tandem with her at the curiosity of it all.

“It’s weird, isn’t it?” She traced a finger over the meager profile shot of the victim, who was discovered post-death to have been collecting severed human fingers in his fridge door. “That one guy dies, turns out to be awful, and then another one?”

“Makes a person want to believe in patterns.” Light looked at her through his lashes, fork to his lips as he took another bite of their shared tart. Whenever they discussed important issues, Kiyomi liked to do it at cafes; Light suspected it was out of journalistic habit, since she took all her interviews to the same place they sat now. “Or even luck, I guess.”

“Luck?”

“Well,” he said, “luck for anyone who would have been those guys’ victims. Luck for the rest of us. Not so much for them.”

Kiyomi took a larger piece of tart, shining with a glazed cherry, and chewed it in vigorous gnashes. “Do you believe in patterns?” Her question was idle, almost absent between chews.

Light shook his head, fork placed down on a napkin and his hand now free to fish his phone from his pocket. “I don’t think there’s anything to this random stuff besides a few jerks getting their comeuppance,” he said. “Nothing but justice, you know. I have to go; my sister texted me.”

Sayu sent him a string of texts, to be honest, about how his mom needed him to come home and help with dinner. Of course, when Light arrived he saw the situation for what it was: his sister needed to watch a TV drama premiere; his mother needed onions chopped; and both of them were unwilling to compromise. Fortunately, the best brother and good son arrived home in time to accommodate them by chopping onions and fending suggestions that he was on a date with Kiyomi.

He fell into his computer chair, swung himself around in lazy circles until his brain became dizzy—one word thoughts all that remained. Onions. Kiyomi. Death. Patterns. Luck. Sticking his foot out, Light halted his movement and froze. In two scoots, he was at his keyboard, and he typed in his query to the Internet as quick as he thought it: Recent Murder Investigations Detective L. After a second, he added quotations around the phrase Detective L and pressed enter. Floods of pixel results washed over him as Light took in link after link to articles covering the great detective who solved any case put on his desk but never revealed himself to the public.

Three articles spoke of specific cases L solved: the Monkey Thief Theory (a jeweled monkey stolen from a well-loved heiress, ultimately found to have been absconded by her own hand); the Pit Viper Peril (a man who used viper venom to poison his business associates); and the Beautiful Woman Break-ins (a woman broke into several of the world’s richest mansions but stole only their fresh fruit. The woman was caught, but no details on her arrest were ever given to the public.) Two articles called L the single most important person in criminal justice history. One article mentioned, albeit as an end note, that L had worked on both cases whose solving had more to do with sudden heart attacks claiming the perpetrators than his own prowess.

A headache formed at the horizon of Light’s skull after reading too close to the screen, so he tried to print the articles. Only one printed all the way—on the second, he ran out of paper and went to Sayu’s room to bug her for using all the printer paper, which she insisted she needed for art.

“You print off pictures of that actor guy in full color and paste them onto your binders,” Light complained. “I need that paper for important stuff. You can’t be so wasteful.”

“It’s the art of collage,” she intoned. “You wouldn’t understand. You don’t have passions like I do, otherwise you’d go out with Kiyomi.”

Light took a third of her printer paper as revenge for the comment and brought in the articles to show Kiyomi. Her eyes were luminous when he arrived at the café table, arms similarly weighted with information which they swapped. She gave him a newspaper with intriguing, if distressing, updates: another man killed by cardiac arrest, revealed to be a secret killer.

“Do you know who was pursuing this one’s death?” He paused, pushing the paper away to give the waitress his full attention and order: black coffee and banana muffin, if they still have some. Kiyomi ordered ahead of him, and her meal sits in front of her pock-holed by her absent bites. In answer, she shakes her head and takes another minuscule clump of her rolled omelet.

“Nobody special was named, if that’s what you’re asking,” she said. “These articles are pretty good, but it’s hard to know whether L has been involved in more without knowing how many heart attack deaths like this have happened.” She gestured with her chopsticks as she continued, pointing at the highlighted National Police Association in the paper’s text. “From what I can gather, the Japanese police are the ones that found the posthumous evidence in the man’s apartment, same as with the other ones.”

“What’s the rub is how would they know?” Light tapped his chin, wristwatch catching café lamp glow and projecting a jiggling circle down on the laminate table. “A heart attack happens, you can just rule that as someone’s poor health, or maybe just a sad stroke of fate. But someone must be alerting police to these people’s suspicious nature for them to be investigating in depth.” He coughed, his next sentence making his throat close in embarrassment, but continued. “Listen. I support the police, you know that, right?”

“Sure,” Kiyomi mumbled around more egg. “You support your dad, at least.”

“Yeah. Well. I know the guys he works with, and while they’re not stupid, there’s no way they got this intuitive so quick.” His muffin slipped in front of him and Light nodded his thanks to the waitress, waiting until she left to pull over one printed article. “Here’s what I know: at least one of these cases was under L’s purview. Who’s to say the other ones aren’t also?”

Discarding the article, Light reached for the condiment caddy and snatched up two creamer cups, while Kiyomi set her chopsticks down in contemplation. Her eyes—dark blue to the point of midnight—scanned both the newspaper and articles. With her mouth pressed together, red lips shining with waxen smoothness, Light could see why she held sway over so much of the school’s masculine consciousness: a beautiful woman who thought before anything. His own attention settled further from attraction and more into an approach toward admiration; she would’ve made a good rival, were he still seventeen and looking for the challenge.

“How would we find out what cases L has worked on?” Kiyomi’s gaze darted from the papers to Light’s coffee, swirling ever more auburn with the creamer added. “Why didn’t you just get a latte, if you’re going to make it so sweet with cream?”

“I like to make things myself.” Light waved his hand to dispel her remark. “I don’t know how to find all the cases lining up to this particular situation, which also have L’s involvement, but I think I can get us to a starting place.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. But I’ll need my computer.” Light took a sip of his coffee and couldn’t resist the pleased smile it brought to his lips: the satisfaction of something useful and pleasurable mixed into one cup. “And about an hour of time, so I’ll probably skip contemporary law today. You don’t have to come, but you can if you like.”

“I should stay, go to class to get notes so you don’t fall behind.” Kiyomi ran her finger around her own teacup, liquid no longer steaming but cool and green with tea leaves solidified at the bottom. “Can I ask you something?” Her voice wavered and Light couldn’t catch its true colors—only flashes of uncertain purple, vulnerable red. “Is it silly to be excited about this? Trying to figure out a mystery together?”

Swallowing, Light pretended not to hear the word together as he knew she meant it: you and me, an item, a duo. “No,” he said. “It’s exciting to solve mysteries, in any case. Every time I’ve worked on stuff like this with my dad, I feel changed, uplifted. Like,” he paused, rubbing his fingers together, “someone just turned on the lights in a pitch-dark room, and now I get to see all the secrets around me.”

“I understand,” Kiyomi said, and in that moment, Light looked at her midnight eyes and saw that she did.

…

It was easier than expected to hack into his dad’s account on the NPA intraweb, although Light knew he used the same password for everything: ssl226. He wanted, in a strange way, for his dad’s heart to be harder to crack—to know less about the key and earn it fitting in the lock—but couldn’t dig into why he felt such a way. Not with Kiyomi sending him text after text from class, each one a more urgent call for updates on his progress. His attention snapped from phone, to computer, to an odd hole in his stomach after their earlier meeting.

He never enjoyed when people tried to get close to him, as though they wanted a piece of Light the same way a child wants a piece of adulthood—desperate without knowledge of what lay beneath. While a social creature, thriving on connection, he cringed from women’s fumbled confessions of attraction and roamed away from their asking mouths toward men, who wanted silent partners to their escapades and were willing to return the favor. In many ways, those interactions left Light cold as well: tacky plastic bandages peeling off at the slightest friction.

The truth was it was easier to want what was right in front of him and not consider the far off. So, Light’s fingers flew across his keyboard with the neon flash from his cell phone ignored. He flipped through files labeled in long numerical defaults—a mark of his father’s tech-illiteracy—with time ticking away. When he finally alighted on the correct documents, his phone inbox was full. Without reading any of the messages, he deleted them all and texted Kiyomi to meet him later at the library.

Armed with a large stack of paper, he weighed down his backpack and left, waving off his mother’s question about why he was skipping class. On the television, a reporter spoke about rising stock in the Yotsuba Corporation’s new make-up company. She laughed after her speech and admitted to wearing their lipstick during the segment. Both Sayu and Light’s mother laughed along too. Light ran out the door, his bag smacking on his side.

The library was quiet except for a few students banging on keyboards, their faces shining with essay-deadline sweat. Light found Kiyomi lounged on a two-seat bench, her legs propped onto the low table and a style guide opened over her face. She sat up when he dropped in beside her, pushing the guide off and starting into an interrogation on why he didn’t answer her texts. Holding up a hand, Light pulled out his papers and set them on the table, smacking a finger on them.

“I know who he’s attacking next,” he said.

“What?” Kiyomi pushed his hand aside and flicked through his findings. “Okay, so these are the last, what? Twenty or so cases the NPA worked on with L?”

“Yes, about twenty,” Light agreed. “But we don’t usually call on him, unless it’s a difficult case. I mean, it’s pretty rare he takes any case at all unless it’s big news. But look at the cases he’s worked on since 2002.”

“Heart attacks.” Stopping at the top page, Kiyomi drew her finger along the chart labels—suspect name, suspect location, case title, behavior—and ended on the final column of conclusion. “Not all of them, though. Only a few scattered ones.”

“I know!” Light couldn’t stop a little eagerness leaking in; his sleuthing was about to pay off. He took out another stack of paper—thinner than the last—and handed those to Kiyomi. “I looked at those cases. All of them had victim counts lower than ten. Some of them were even cases the NPA didn’t put much resources behind. But,” he raised his finger in emphasis, “these ones had interesting details. Like the guy who had skeletons in his backyard? He was some kind of cannibal who left organs behind. The finger guy was notorious, even though he was pretty low activity.”

“You sound like you have a theory.”

“I might. Check out the most recent listing.”

Kiyomi flipped back to the case chart and narrowed her eyes. “Do we know this guy? Kyosuke Higuchi?”

Light sighed and tapped his finger to his knee. “He’s some kind of executive, at the Yotsuba Corporation. I tracked the case listed to one about a bunch of their new make-up brand’s younger interns going missing. The count is five right now, but one of them was the niece of a big government person so the NPA got told to ask L about it.” He smiled at Kiyomi. “Do you want to hear my theory?”

She tapped the paper stack and set it on the table, turning her full attention to him. “Someone is picking off the small fries,” she said, “with heart attacks, and the link between cases is L.”

A frustrated puff of breath exited Light. “Well. Yeah. I guess,” he said. “But it’s pretty smart, right? Getting rid of the guys who you can find, but can’t super prove anything about, before they get to higher numbers.”

“He’s still killing people,” Kiyomi said. “I mean, isn’t that just like what they’re doing? These guys are victims too, in a sense, and this L guy is offing them before they get a trial. What if he’s wrong?”

Light folded his arms across his chest. “But he hasn’t been wrong,” he said. “Not yet.” Shuffling in his seat, he leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and took a deep inhale. “I want to send him a message.”

“What? A message?” Kiyomi laughed, her long earrings shaking with her clipped hair. “What’re you going to say? We’re on to you, buddy. Better watch out.” She shook her head, laughter making way for a more serious expression. “It’s not a good idea,” she said. “We don’t know how he’s giving people heart attacks, other than by magic or something. It’s dangerous.”

Air lifted and deflating from Light’s chest as he mulled her response around inside. It burned a trail through his soft meats, where enthusiasm continued to grow through whatever scorch she inflicted with sense and caution. His body was a garden growing thicker at just the idea of communicating with the person who had such a power, who made such a decision as to end someone’s life when they ended someone else’s.

Headless of his contemplation, Kiyomi stood and took the papers. “It’s interesting, I’ll give you that,” she said. “But we shouldn’t contact L directly. It will alert him to our own knowledge; we’d give more ground than gain. Let me look over what you have, and later this week, we’ll pool our thoughts and start to put together a better case.”

He handed over his print outs, not too precious about them since he had the real digital versions at home. As she left, Light’s eyes danced away from Kiyomi’s prim stride and toward the tall bookcases. His mind brought to him a scenario where he, and everyone else in the library, was crushed by toppled bookcases and the ceiling caving in. A tragedy without a pinpoint reason behind it—only a god who wanted to see something destroyed. Or maybe it was some kid who leaned too hard. Life was so random in how it could be taken or given, and that thought propelled him further into whatever L’s powers were.

Somehow, there was a man out there able to control death and Light, despite Kiyomi’s warning, wanted to know the shape of his tools.

…

L counted three red candies from his pack and collected them into his palm. They rattled against each other like gemstones, gleaming under computer-haze lights until long black claws pinched one away.

“Red ones are best,” Ryuk said. “Except for cherry flavor.”

“Cherry flavor is fine if you get the right brand.” L turned back to his laptop, nabbing a pink hard candy for himself and sucking its watermelon flavor into a slow, sugar liquid. It subsumed his entire mouth, coated his tongue and teeth. His hand stayed outstretched as Ryuk one-by-one crunched the red candies into his toothsome mouth. Clattering shards collected at his lip corners only to be wiped away by his skeletal hand.

At the moment, both occupied the same opulent hotel room despite their aesthetic pairing more implied them existing in different realities. L had laid out over his hotel desk his laptop, a bowl of packaged sweets, and a thin notebook—opened to a page half-filled by his scrawl. Methodical in his fingers, he looked over the most recent reports sent in from Japan, his interest waning here and there into an intense focus on whatever candy he opened next. Ryuk, on the other hand, was taken up by the television, which L left on for him in most hotel rooms, and all the small colored blotches fizzled together on the screen. He laughed as one blotch fell down a flight of stairs.

Their relationship often balanced on this mutual agreement for entertainment—it flowed between them as Ryuk received TV, movies, and candy from L and L, of course, got the Death Note. While this arrangement meant they were in constant contact, Ryuk did fly between the human world and Shinigami realm on his own whims; he told L human poker wasn’t as good as the death gods played it, which L couldn’t argue being he wasn’t too fond of poker either way. At one point, L asked why he—of all people on Earth and beyond—received such an unholy tool of death and Ryuk responded, “Oh, yeah. The thing sort of fell out of my pocket. I need one of those chain wallets, keep that on me.” As if to prove his point, the next time Ryuk showed up to see how L and the Death Note were progressing, he had his personal Note hooked to a thick metal chain.

“Made it myself.” His voice smacked of undue pride, although L complimented the chain without trace of sarcasm. “Not as good as the human ones, but pretty cool.”

L didn’t care if the Shinigami made a thousand ugly chain wallets, or watched TV all day. What he cared about was the ease the Death Note brought to his work. So often fissures of stress cracked along his psyche when dug into cases which were clean cut—to him, at least—but couldn’t get traction enough with local enforcement to make arrests: to bring justice to people who screamed their guilt to L’s careful crow eyes. But with the Death Note, all he had to do was write a name, wait and assign a search team to the killer’s home posthumously.

Spread in front of him, he tapped a pen end to the blank Note page. All that was left in the Higuchi case was to find a time to kill him while he was alone; for that purpose, L wormed around several important forms and decision-makers to install camera into the vile businessman’s home and office. Blue connective fuzz overlaid the images displayed on his laptop and made Higuchi, idling behind his large desk, appear alien. To some degree, L felt the man was alien to him—in thought, in action (or lack of it), in intention—and had no interest in learning a scrap about Higuchi. He cared more about the space beneath the man’s home, which would be unlocked and unloaded of its human prisoners once Wedy got her go-ahead; keeping a successful thief on his payroll benefited L tremendously.

“He’s been alone for two hours,” L said, to himself and also Ryuk, if the Shinigami wanted to hear. “If I kill him now, how long before someone finds the body?”

“Weekend,” Ryuk piped back. L looked over his shoulder to see his long ebony chicken legs crossed on the bed while yellow eyes stared at the television without blinking. “He might just rot there over the next two days.”

“Oh, I think so—,” L stopped mid-speech at Higuchi’s secretary and her brown ponytail bobbing into frame. She stood at near two inches taller than the man, who sneered as she spoke. At the very least, L knew she was not in danger of kidnapping. He sat straighter and leaned to hear their conversation over the microphones, the secretary’s voice soft and faint from many miles away.

“A young man left this for you.” She held out an envelope; even at his angle, L saw no address or marker beyond Higuchi’s name. “He said he needs you to give it to someone.”

“What?” Higuchi’s nasal intonation pinched his words. “I’m not some kind of messenger. Tell him to just send it by post, if he needs someone to see it so bad.”

“He sounded urgent that you give it,” the secretary said, and dropped the envelope down. “I’ll tell you something, he was very handsome. Seemed like a smart young man. This is probably his resume, you know.”

“Ah.” Snake oil slithered through Higuchi’s response as he took hold of the envelope. “Well, who am I to keep down a young upstart? Anything else he said?”

The secretary taped her finger to her lip and hummed. “Just that it was important someone get this message,” she said. “Someone powerful, who knew what you’d done. I don’t know what he meant by that.”

L’s eyes lit up; Higuchi became pale. “Ah yes,” the businessman simpered. “I’m not sure I know either. Well, why don’t you go home? I’ll see you on Monday.”

The moment the secretary left, Higuchi threw the envelope into the trash and L whipped around to Ryuk.

“Can you fly somewhere for me?” he asked. “And pick something up?”

“Dunno,” Ryuk said. “Depends what I get in return.”

After an hour and a promise for several all large candy purchases, L held a faintly sticky gold envelope in his hands. His hands, covered by white fabric gloves, turned the item over and over in curious rotation. Thumbing the corners, he admired how thick the stock seemed, how elegant the adhesion of the close seemed to lay, and upon opening it, he was sorry to mar the lines. Out fell a quarter-folded page with lines as crisp as the outer shell. L unfolded the page, smoothed it with both hands with delicacy he hadn’t practiced on something non-confectionery in years. Across the fine surface was hard-black typed words, struck out in small font but for some reason read to him like slow cream—a voice L never heard before but caught him, easily, by his mind’s tongue.

Dear L, the letter started. I know what you’ve been doing, but I don’t know how. I’d like to know. I’d like to know you and what tools you’ve picked up that let you wrack such havoc inside cruel men’s bodies.

Are you like them? A cruel man? I can’t say; but I’d like to be able to reject the sentiment.

Each word dropped into L’s consciousness as water on a garden and flourished greenery within him until his interest became a full forest. Someone caught on to him; their fingers brushed his toes but couldn’t quite hold the tiger. Still, the letter’s writer was unknown and on this front, L couldn’t abide. He took to his laptop and rolled back footage upon footage until video of a man at Higuchi’s secretary’s desk showed. At all times, the man’s face was out of view and his voice so low, L couldn’t make out his exact words. Had the letter writer known he’d been watched? A subtle tingle wormed through L’s chest: he knew about the cameras, or suspected them; he knew Higuchi was next; and he knew L was listening, in some capacity.

But how much did this man—who still carried handsomeness in his stature, turned head or no, and had a whisper coated by sugared familiarity—actually know? L frowned and turned back to the letter, scanning it again. He then turned to Ryuk.

“If someone wanted to send a message with the Note,” he said, “how might they do so?”

Ryuk laughed, throaty and amused. “Few ways,” he demurred. “You’re a smart guy. You figure it out.”

L raised an eyebrow, but not an argument. After all, he was the world’s greatest detective; a smart guy who could figure it out. He set to work and by nightfall had a plan. As he finished, he imbued his last pen stroke with some warped hope—that the letter writer saw what his message truly was: not cruelty but a hand beckoning him closer. An invitation.

“A challenge,” L said, to himself, to Ryuk, to the young man whose face he didn’t know. “And an answer.”

…

“Is that the newspaper?” Light slipped in next to Kiyomi, who held ink-covered pages in front of her face, elegant nails curled against headlines like red slashed wounds. Their first period literature class—a dreaded requirement on their degrees which neither enjoyed—found him harried from waking up late. He was unpracticed in disordered sleep and didn’t know how to control panic when it seeped from his pores and into his routine; ever since he gave the letter off to that Higuchi, Light was aware to his core something might happen—something deadly, even.

Kiyomi tilted the front page down enough to show her disappointed gaze trained on Light’s perfect smile—beguiling by practice, not nature. “You can buy your own,” she said. “After all, you don’t want anything from me, much less information.”

“Don’t be like that,” he countered. “You know, I didn’t make any moves.”

“Don’t lie,” Kiyomi said. “Look,” she flattened the newspaper to the desk, and after glancing around, pointed to a large headline, “your little love note found its recipient.”

Light leaned over the paper and scanned the article. Phrases floated forward—a sex dungeon with the women freed by an unknown accomplice—and others were faded but intriguing—Higuchi succumbing to cardiac arrest after consuming an energy drink, a large latte and a bottle of caffeine pills. His eyes froze on one paragraph, detailing a letter found in Higuchi’s handwriting and tucked inside his pocket.

“Experts say the letter was written within an hour of the man’s death,” the article read. “It’s contents are, however, not addressed to anyone known to the victim but instead a mysterious figure called ‘letter writer.’ Beneath we have listed some of the letter, which was confiscated by police and edited for clarity.”

Kiyomi sighed. “You’re in real danger now,” she said softly. “We’re both in danger.”

“He responded,” Light said, breathless. “He wrote back to me.”

Dear letter writer,

I don’t want to alarm you or make it seem as though I am on a crusade. Far from it. This is just my job, and I am good at my job. I get rid of people doing terrible things, but time and resources don’t always play on my side. This is my way of prioritizing.

I’m not a cruel man; and I hope you never think of me as such. But understand I can’t tell you what my methods are. After all, where’s the interest in that for me? But I can give you something small, something to hold onto: without your face, I can’t harm you.

Speak to you soon,

Light’s heart thudded in his throat. “Do you still have that chart on you?” He asked Kiyomi, who brought out the papers with eyes warmed by the prospect of research.

“Of course.” She laid them out and shrugged in closer to Light. “What are we looking for? What do we do next?”

Light couldn’t answer. Around and around in his head echoed Speak to you soon in a voice he didn’t know. Yes, they’d speak again soon enough, but he just needed to find out what they’d talk about. Right now, the room was dark; it was all a matter of turning on the light and seeing the secrets in the room.

#fanfiction #L #L Lawliet #Light Yagami #Kiyomi Takada #Sayu Yagami #Kyosuke Higuchi #pairings: none #ratings: teen #murder #translightyagami #kratqa #B's Bitchin Borthday 2k19 #submission

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1-1snailxd-art · 5 years

Text

Working too hard

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: platonic LAMP

Warning: minor injury, illness, anxiety, eating disorder implied, death mentioned.

Summary: Something is wrong with Patton, but he won’t admit it.

Note: This is how I vent now...writing very random fanfics based on real experiences. Not a continuing story, really. Just a way to cope with stuff and sending it out into the void is therapeutic.

*************

It was over.

Finally.

Patton stepped into his classroom, shutting the door behind him, and looked at the freshly cleaned room. He barely made it to his desk as his hands shook and his legs gave out, forcing him to lower himself to the floor. Hot tears streamed from his eyes, though he felt emotionally numb as his body reacted to the work day ending.

It had been a rough two weeks for the energetic teacher, with reports due on all 28 of his students across 5 different learning areas. As if that wasn’t already hard enough, something was wrong with Patton.

It started when he and Virgil had gone for a walk around the park and come across Roman and Logan jogging.

*****

“Let’s race to the café!” Roman was bouncing on his toes; full of energy and a smile spread across his face.

“Why?” Virgil may have sounded disinterested but he was subtly zipping his jacket up in preparation.

“Just for fun.” Glancing to the side, Roman saw Logan and Patton were also adjusting themselves, preparing to run. “Last one there buys afternoon tea.”

Patton quickly analysed the path he would need to take; sticking to the concrete walk way around the pond before veering right, across the grass, to reach the café. The group needed no further acknowledgement as they exchanged competitive grins.

“Ready?” Roman watched as each nodded, “se-”

“GO!”

Patton yelled and quickly started running, knowing the others would pass him easily despite his mischievous false start. Feeling the hard pavement beneath his feet, Patton couldn’t help but worry about falling on the hard surface. Breathing from behind caught his attention as Roman passed on his left and pulled ahead. Pounding feet indicated Virgil and Logan were close behind, Virgil keeping pace with Patton briefly before pulling ahead and was replaced with Logan. As Roman left the concrete path, Virgil surged ahead with increased confidence on the alternative surface. Logan also took the opportunity to pull ahead and close the gap between himself and Roman, as the dramatic man lost steam.

Patton wasn’t concerned with winning. He knew they wouldn’t honestly make him pay for everything and this was more for bragging rights later. Regardless, he did give the race all he had, spotting Virgil grab a support beam of the café’s verandah to cement his victory. Roman’s cry of frustration as Logan passed him in the final moments was the last thing Patton heard. His vision suddenly went dark as he felt himself fall forward.

Time slowed. He knew he was falling. The sensation overwhelming. His arm hit the ground first, body still moving forward as the side of his head bounced on the ground. Hitting his head reactivated his vision. Patton blinked at the grass that was now so close to his face as he lay on his side.

“Patton!”

Time started up again as Virgil raced over and rolled Patton onto his back, face full of worry as he took in the others pale face.

“I. Hit. My. Head.” Patton struggled to get the words out as his chest heaved.

As more faces appeared over him, Patton raised his arm over his eyes, trying to block out their gaze.

“Keep your eyes open for us, Patton.” Logan instructed, leaning down with Virgil to inspect their fallen friend.

“Deep slow breaths, Pat.” Virgil comforted, noticing his breathing wasn’t slowing.

Patton felt confused and embarrassed. He couldn’t work out why he was struggling to breath, and it took him a moment to remember that he had just been sprinting with the others.

“Eyes open, Patton.”

Logan repeated as he moved Patton’s arm onto his forehead as he tried to cover his eyes again. Patton just wanted to disappear. The gazes of concern and worry were overwhelming and he couldn’t explain why.

“I’m ok. I’m ok.” Patton repeated it more for himself than the others and smiled despite his chest still heaving.

“Don’t move. Just calm down.”

Virgil looked at Patton’s arm, noticing the grass burn running up his forearm and the shake in his hands. Gently he brushed grass off Patton’s hair and checked the side of his face; which was clear of any marks.

“Does it hurt anywhere?” Logan questioned, following Virgil’s inspections and considering the possibility of concussion.

“My, my arm hurts a bit.” Patton thought hard about how he was actually feeling. It was odd to have to consciously consider his feelings. “My head feels funny, but I’m ok.”

Logan and Virgil nodded, though they weren’t quite convinced. Roman watched on from the side, not wanting to crowd Patton too much. It felt like an eternity to Patton, but it was only a minute before he was sitting up.

“Take your time.” Virgil cooed, “you don’t need to rush.”

“I want to get off this grass.” Patton kept his gaze low and focused on squeezing his hands into fists to stop them from shaking.

No one argued as Patton stood, using Virgil for support, and they made their way up to the café. Roman strode ahead and pulled a chair out for Patton to gratefully lower himself on to.

“Have you eaten today?” Logan questioned, knowing Patton had a history of neglecting meals. Patton nodded but avoided all eye contact, cementing Logan’s assessment that the man probably had eaten the bare minimum that day. “I’ll get you something to eat.”

“I’ll help.” Roman offered, feeling a little useless and already blaming himself for Patton’s state.

As the others disappeared into the café, Virgil moved to sit close to Patton and placed a supportive arm around his friends shoulders.

“How are you feeling?” Seeing Patton’s face stretch into a smile, Virgil made his tone even more serious. “Really, I want the truth. How are you feeling?”

The fake smile remained as Patton looked down and flexed his still trembling hands.

“I’m embarrassed more than anything. But I’ll be ok.” He chanced a glance to the side, and saw just how unconvinced Virgil appeared. “I promise, Virgil. I’ll be fine.”

Logan and Roman returned with a table number, waters and a brown paper bag.

“Ordered some fries to share.” Roman sat across from Patton and was glad to see some colour was returning to his friends face.

Logan twisted the top off a bottle of water and handed it to Patton. “Drink. I got you a blueberry muffin too. They don’t have a wide range of options today, but you should at least eat something while we wait for more food.”

Patton smiled at Logan, though it didn’t reach his eyes; accepting the water and taking small sips of the cool liquid. “Thank you, Logan.”

Virgil opened the brown paper bag and tore the muffin into chunks, knowing it was highly unlikely Patton would eat alone, if at all. He may have been the one that came across as outwardly anxious, but Patton suffered just as much. Though he had denied it, a recent doctors trip had confirmed what Virgil had always assumed about his friend. He was stressed, anxious and on a dangerous path with his eating habits. He had only known Patton for a little over a year, but he knew he was the sort to put everyone else’s needs above his own and hide his true feelings.

Grabbing a piece of muffin, Virgil shoved it in his mouth. “That’s really good. You should try a bit, Pat.”

“Thanks.” Patton repeated, carefully setting his water down and reaching for the smallest piece. Despite its small size, he still nibbled on it slowly, mind racing over what had occurred.

Roman, Logan and Virgil did their best to chat normally; taking careful glances at their friend as he nibbled on his muffin or took a sip of water. When their fries arrived, Patton was smiling and joining the conversation in small spurts. Though he acted fine, his eyes were tired and his face still lacked much of its normal colour. A visit to the hospital had already been turned down, as Patton assured them it was nothing.

“I just tripped, guys.” He said, finally finishing a chip he had been holding onto for most of the meal. “People trip all the time. It really is nothing to worry about.”

“You would tell us, though,” Roman looked deep into Patton’s eyes, “if something was wrong, you would tell us, right?”

Patton nodded. “If something was really wrong, I would tell you. I promise.”

Patton allowed the group to call a taxi to take them all their separate ways, even though he was adamant he could still walk if needed. The taxi dropped Roman and Logan at their place first, where they reminded Patton again to message if he needed anything.

As the taxi pulled up to Patton’s apartment complex, Virgil reached over and touched his friend’s shoulder.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay over? The kids will be fine without me for one night.”

Patton shook his head, “it’s fine, Virge. You’re siblings need you and I promise you, I’m fine. I will message you if I’m not.”

Though unconvinced, Virgil accepted and let Patton slide out of the car. He watched the other walk slowly to his door and waited until he saw him enter before signalling for the taxi to move on.

****

Patton kept his promises. He made sure to eat a full dinner that night, despite not feeling hungry. The next day he woke up in pain. Everything ached. His neck, his back, his arm, and his head felt like someone had placed a filter over his thoughts and he struggled to concentrate.

Not wanting to worry the others, he sent them funny GIFs in their group chat and did everything he could to appear normal. They all had their own lives to worry about and didn’t need to worry about him. He was fine. He only fell over. It’s just something that happens. Nothing to worry about at all.

*****

“Are you ok, Mr Sanders?”

Kids are incredibly clever, and the kids in Patton’s class were quick to sense there was something wrong with their teacher.

“I’m fine, Kiddo.” He lied, “I’m just a little bit tired.”

The tiredness and ‘off feeling’ wasn’t going away. Staring at a request for bloods that his doctor had given him last week, Patton swallowed his fear and took himself to the pathology clinic after the 4th day of feeling under the weather. He had been playing it off in and outside of work. He caught glimpses of Virgil, Logan and Roman cautiously eyeing him as they met in the staff room or crossed paths in the playgrounds. Every opportunity he could get, Patton assured them that he was feeling fine and life went on. The four didn’t get another chance to meet as the deadline for Patton, Logan and Roman’s reports loomed, and new books arrived for Virgil to enter into the library. Perhaps if they had met up again, they would have noticed Patton slipping.

****

It had been over a week since the incident and they had all started to believe Patton was indeed ok. Even Patton had thought he was going fine, until he suddenly felt faint. The sensation came out of nowhere. He was just standing during assembly when he started struggling to focus his vision. Thinking it was nothing, Patton sat on the ground with his students and the feeling passed.

He quickly checked the time, noting that it had only been an hour since breakfast and he had eaten a larger meal than normal. Shoving thoughts of concern aside, Patton returned his attention to his class. His students needed him.

As the assembly ended, Patton walked his crew back to the classroom. The walk was short, but it felt like Patton was running a marathon. His legs felt heavy, his head swam and his heart started to race.

‘I need to set the kids up. Then I can deal with this.’

Teacher aides entered the classroom to take the kids off in small reading groups. Patton started calling for groups to go to different adults and areas; grabbing onto a cupboard door and gesturing for one of the aides to come over.

“Can you call the office for me. Something is wrong.”

Patton remained focused on his students, trying to appear as normal as possible as the room spun for a moment. Lowering himself onto a chair, shoving his trembling hands between his legs and calling out instructions to his group. Despite his best efforts to sound normal, his voice cracked and his students eyes instantly filled with worry.

“I wanted to avoid worrying them. Now I’ve made it worse. Get it together, Patton.”

Angry with himself, Patton took a deep breath and repeated his instructions in a stronger voice. Many accepted and started to work as Patton carefully collected his things and turned to find one of his students in front of him.

“Do you need help, Mr Sanders?”

“Thanks, my dear, but I’ll be ok. Can you go do some awesome reading for me?”

The little girl seemed unconvinced but nodded and returned to her table, directing the others to continue to work to help Mr Sanders. Despite the dizziness in his head, Patton was proud that he had such a good group of kids to work with.

It was moments later that the school Principal and Deputy entered the room, with the Deputy going straight to the table of students that Patton should have been working with.

“Are you going to be ok to walk?” The principal questioned, taking in Patton’s shaking hands.

“I should be. Thanks, Brit.”

Brit nodded, and picked up Patton’s satchel, watching the other rise to their feet. She smiled at the kids working with the Deputy, before following Patton down to the staff room, eyeing his shaking movements carefully.

She had worked with many people during her years as a principal and had watched many teachers work themselves into the ground. Though Patton was still young, there was no age limit on overworking.

“Do you need me to call your GP?” Brit asked, watching Patton’s shaking hands try and use his phone.

“I’ll be fine, thank you Brit.”

Brit nodded and left the room to go and organise a replacement for the day. Though she wouldn’t let it show, she worried about the health of her young staff members. Particularly Patton, as he had no family nearby to turn to and a personality that meant he never asked for support outside of work hours.

By the time Brit returned to the staff room, Patton was massaging his temples with his eyes closed.

“I’ll drive you home and to your appointment.” Patton’s eyes shot open and he opened his mouth to protest before Brit stopped him with a raised hand. “No arguments. My daughter is coming into town to swap cars with me anyway. I’ll have her follow me as I drive you. What time is your appointment.”

“You don’t have to do tha-”

“Patton. What time is your appointment.”

Despite the fact that he was an adult, Patton found himself crumbling at her commanding teacher tone. He knew to not underestimate the power of the ‘teacher voice’.

“It’s not until 2:45.”

“Very well. I’ll clear my afternoon.”

With that, Brit exited the room again. Patton knew she was right, he was in no state to drive, but he still hated to be such an inconvenience.

********

Virgil: what happened today!

Logan: you weren’t in the staff room at morning break. It everything ok, Patton?

Virgil: the rumour is he fainted in his classroom.

Roman: Patton. What is going on?

The group chat was making Patton’s phone vibrate as he sat in the doctors office. His hands still trembled slightly, though his head felt a lot better after laying at home for the day. His doctor was unimpressed as he reminded Patton of the importance of improving his eating habits and not coming in sooner after he fell over.

He left the office with more requests for expensive tests and a prescription for anxiety medication and iron supplements. All the information had blurred together. Possible heart problems. High blood pressure. Lack of sleep. Need to reduce stress. He had laughed when the doctor told him to reduce stress and get more sleep. With reports due the following week it was going to be impossible to do those things.

Hours later, Patton finally opened his phone to check the multiple messages the others had sent. Explaining the situation to the others in the group chat was tough. He could feel their concerned gazes through the glass screen. They were all stressed and busy with work, and now Patton was adding his health to their list of concerns. Guilt squeezed his gut, making eating harder, but he strived to keep on track.

****

The next week was tough. Patton ignored the dizzy spells that plagued his work day; simply sitting and waiting for them to pass. He was already behind with his lessons and didn’t want any time away from his students that wasn’t necessary. Though it hurt, he avoided his friends as much as possible and made sure to smile when they looked his way. He didn’t want to worry them anymore.

Now, sitting on the floor of his classroom, Patton cried. This was how Virgil found him. The librarian simply sat down and put his arm around his friend’s shoulders. Logan and Roman came later and the four sat together in supportive silence. All four tired from the past few weeks.

Patton sniffed and Logan pushed a box of tissues closer to his hands. They watched as Patton shakily took a tissue and blew his nose.

“I’m not ok, guys.” He sniffed.

“We know.” said Roman, placing a supportive hand on Patton’s knee.

“It’s ok, Patton.” Logan mimicked Roman’s action. “We are here to support you.”

“We’re not going anywhere.” Virgil pulled Patton closer and he felt the others shoulders relax slightly.

They each had their own backpack of issues. Virgil was the sole guardian of his 3 underage siblings and money was tight thanks to family disagreements over his parents wills. Roman had been struggling to keep up with delivering content to his students and had a family member losing a cancer battle. Logan had recently lost two family members and had a new student that was throwing chairs and other objects at him in anger.

Patton had been helping them every step of the way. Now it was their turn to support him. As much as he felt guilty for making them worry, Patton knew he needed them. If he was going to get through this unhealthy patch, he was going to need them.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #writing to vent feelings #my writing #ts virgil #ts patton #ts logan #ts roman #food #eating disorder #blood mentioned #human au

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ograndebatata · 5 years

Text

Belated contribution to Elena of Avalor Ship appreciation week - Day 2 - Alonso/Carmen -Adventures in Love - Chapter 001

Well... this was meant to be a contribution to the Elena of Avalor ship week on the Discord server, but it came out far later than I expected due to how much it started growing out of my control.

I even decided to post it in parts eventually because it was just getting so big. I hope you enjoy this first one. The pairing is Alonso x Carmen, and it was meant to be on the ‘Adventure’ day, with the crackship theme.

The usual disclaimers about me not owning anything in the series apply.

Chapter 1 - Customer Importance

A bit over a week before Avalor's third Navidad after Princess Elena's exit from the Amulet of Avalor...

A growling stomach would usually not be described as something to be proud of, but as Alonso followed Avalor's new magister of trade into Café Angelica, he knew none of his body parts had ever spoken up at a better time.

Yes, Julio Guzman meant well, and it was remarkable he tried so hard to be good at his job, and it was good he had become more confident in his position since they first met at the last Feast of Friendship, and it was true Alonso was still trying to better himself. But there were limits for everything, and while Alonso had learned to be polite enough to not outright say so to the man, he was sick of hearing heaps of proposals that traders, whether Avaloran or not, had regarding partnerships with Cordoba.

Thankfully, his stomach's growl had served as an effective stopper to those, for the time being anyway, and Julio had suggested a meal on the house before he left for Cordoba to spend Navidad with his family.

At first, Alonso had accepted just to have some way of escaping this conversation, but as he smelled the divine whiffs coming from the kitchen even before he entered the place, he knew it had been a good idea for more reasons than one.

As he walked in, he couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort at the soft glow of the lights, the warm golden-orange on the walls, and the blue tables and chairs set about in an organized but not geometric fashion, each of them simple but well-crafted and sturdy.

It all seemed to give a feeling of being part of the family, like he heard Elena said she wanted her guests to feel, although this café looked far too old to have been set up by her.

"Here, Prince Alonso," the man instructed, pointing at a table for two right in front of the door. Alonso circled it so he could face the door and sat down as he removed his messenger bag from his shoulder. "Do you have anything in mind, or would you like to read the menu?"

Alonso picked up the list before him. "I think I'll read the menu. I don't know enough about Avaloran cuisine to ask for anything beforehand."

Julio nodded, standing at attention by his table like a soldier, his hands behind his back.

Trying to keep a calm expression, Alonso said, "Relax, will you? I won't terminate the alliance with Avalor if you just sit down for a bit."

The magister of trade did not sit down, but at least did stand in a more relaxed fashion, his arms now falling alongside his body.

Not as far as Alonso had suggested, but maybe it was better not to be too pushy, he decided as he started looking at the menu.

He recognized some dishes in it, like locro and guacamole and paella and enchiladas and tacos, but there were others which he had never heard of, like morisqueta and aguachile and puntas and milanesa and chicharron.

It might be interesting to try some of those out, but given it would be quite some time before he could eat again, and he might end up being accidentally rude by conveying through his expression that any given dish would be bad, perhaps he should go for something a bit more familiar.

Sounds like you're not trying all that hard to be better, after all. A reproachful voice pointed out at him.

Alonso suppressed a frown. He had been trying hard. The fact he still remembered all the proposals Julio Guzman had conveyed to him proved it, he thought.

But maybe he could try even harder. After all, his father went through even worse ordeals during his rule. If Alonso couldn't even be trusted to show gratitude for food he didn't like, he could hardly hope to be the kind of king who'd be a good ruler.

Not that he could hope that anyway, but he could still try his best.

Just pick something! Alonso told himself as he willed his eyes to pick something out from the list.

They landed on a dish at random, and he voiced his request to Julio.

"I'd like some rissoles with arroz rojo," he said. "Please." he added at the very last minute as he remembered his manners.

"I'll ask my sister to make some right away," Julio replied.

Saying so, he jogged someplace behind him, probably the kitchen to tell his sister. Interesting. Alonso would have thought the man would have called out the order rather than leave his guest alone, but perhaps he also felt the talk of trade matters had run its course and didn't feel comfortable around Alonso without it.

Shrugging to himself, Alonso settled more comfortably into his chair. He wouldn't say that to the man's face either, but he could do with some peace and quiet for a bit.

///

Sitting at the kitchen table, Carmen looked up as she heard the kitchen's double doors creaking open. Normally she barely blinked at the noise, but something about it was different enough this time that she raised her eyes from the new recipe she was outlining on paper before trying out for real.

Indeed, Julio had a rather strange halted skip to his step as he approached, his eyes glowing with eagerness and yet the rest of his posture strangely tense.

"You'll never guess who agreed to come to the café!" he whispered at her like an excited kid who'd gotten a toy he'd been wanting for months.

Carmen set down her pencil. "Hello to you too."

Julio stopped as if trying not to stumble on a sudden obstacle.

"Yes, yes, hello." he conceded. "Did you have a good day?"

"It was quiet. Enough people came here to turn in profit, but not enough to overwhelm the staff." She could see from the way he was tensing up that he was just dying to keep talking about his topic, so she added "I'm guessing you had a pretty great one. Who came here with you?"

"One of the best guests we could have!" Julio leaned forward and 'loud whispered'. "Prince Alonso of Cordoba!"

Carmen could actually feel her eyes widening.

"You mean he stayed with you all day long to listen to everything you wanted to tell him?"

Even without knowing him, she was impressed. Julio had had quite a lot of proposals to share, even though he had spent the better part of two days discarding lots of suggestions whether because they were repeated, too impractical to implement, or, in some rare cases, so asinine that they didn't deserve to be taken into consideration.

"I was impressed as well," Julio remarked. "Especially after Princess Elena's warnings about him."

Carmen shrugged. "Maybe he's trying to change?"

Julio nodded. "Maybe, but from how he acted with me, he either really changed a lot or wasn't that bad to begin with." Before Carmen could reply, her brother made a gesture as if pushing a heavy burden to the side. "Point is, he's here! And he's going to eat your food!" In a more normal tone, he finished. "He asked for rissoles with arroz rojo. Let's get them done."

Carmen narrowed her eyes. "We're almost closed. I'm not sure I can have those ready before then. Can't you ask him to order anything simpler?"

"We could close a bit later, can't we? This is an important customer, after all." He looked like he was ready to throw his arms up from the grandeur of his following statement. "And if he likes it, maybe word will spread to Cordoba, and other visitors from there will come here, and we'll get more money!"

Carmen tried not to frown.

"I think we're good on the money front for a while."

Julio folded his arms. "That's why we need to have enough to save up in case we ever end up on the wrong side of poverty again."

Carmen held back her remarks. She could see where Julio was coming from. Even with the café's success, it had taken over a year to pay off all the bills and debts that had built up during the dark period in their lives. Still, she didn't exactly like Julio's excessive concerns with money. They were well off by now, at least enough that she didn't see the need to seek for a source of profit everywhere.

"I'll help you." Julio added, opening his eyes wider and pouting like a puppy.

Carmen sighed. "I think you're overdoing it." She took a deep breath to gather herself. "But let's make the rissoles with arroz rojo."

Julio broke into a relieved smile. "Thank you, Carmen."

Despite herself, Carmen spared him a smile of her own before she put away her pencil and the book she had been writing on.

Here's to hoping he can appreciate good food. She thought as she picked up a piece of bread to be turned into crumbs. She knew some royals could be really picky about what they ate. Granted, that might be undeserved reputation in some cases. She didn't have motives to complain about any of those she had actually met, and no one had ever disliked any of her abuela's dishes.

Carmen closed her eyes, a jolt of pain cutting through her heart. Even years later, she could get bouts of sadness when thinking about abuelita. And she had been getting a lot of those lately with the approaching Navidad.

She willed the thought to leave her brain as she set the bread down on the table and went to get the onion. Her point was, Prince Alonso sounded like he would be the first royal she served who was a picky eater. Though Julio's words had hinted he was trying to be better, it was hard to say if he had become good enough to be polite about food he didn't like. Doña Paloma had spoken of his comments on single lettuce leaves after all.

Well, let him think whatever he thought. Carmen would do the dish he had requested, and would do her best job, like her professional and personal pride always compelled her to.

And if Prince Alonso didn't like it, all the worse for him.

#elena of avalor #fanfic #prince alonso #carmen guzman #alonso x carmen #crackship #belated contribution #elena of avalor ship week

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taehyungiestummy · 5 years

Text

Summer Dreams -- Chapter Fifteen

Masterlist Previous Next

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3124

“Do you ever wonder how we will keep our knowledge of Korean when we are back home?” I wiggle around to get comfortable in the beanbag as I get the BattleBlock Theater started up.

“Not the way that we keep up with German, that’s for sure,” Emily chuckles, opening a bag of chips. “I think that because we are learning the language for personal reasons, it will stick with us more and we will want to keep with it.”

“That is true,” I select my character. “It can be like our secret language too. If we want to talk about random shit without others listening. Man, that will be awesome.”

“We barely know enough to keep a basic conversation going, though,” Emily picks up her controller, selecting the character that she wants. “Nari will have to give us lessons over Skype as often as she can.”

“Or the boys,” I fiddle around with the joysticks as we enter the first level, trying to get used to the controls. “We’ll have to Skype them for sure. How will we survive without them by our sides?”

“You mean, how will you survive without your little lover boy?” Emily teases.

“He’s not my lover,” I pout, shoving Emily’s character to death on purpose. “I can admit that I think he is super cute, and I have a crush on him, though.”

“I think that you are super cute,” she nudges my leg with her foot. “Now, are we going completion on this game, or do you not care?”

“Oh, we are going to get all the gems and unlock everything, that is for sure,” I restart the level. “So, we need to focus and communicate.”

“We are a team, so let’s get at this.”

Emily and I have been playing video games together like this for years. If the game has multiplayer, than we work together to get one hundred percent unlocked and beaten. If the games does not have multiplayer, it is usually just me playing on the device while Emily does her own thing, or we do trade-offs every now and again. Between the two of us, I am definitely the bigger video game nerd.

We have spent a lot of time playing video games on this trip. It is unhealthy, no doubt, but we are kids wanting to have fun. The BTS boys have a hard practice schedule, so we have to fill the time in other ways. Nari loves that we have all this free time trapped in her apartment. She loves that we make her lunch and dinner multiple days a week, and I think that she loves having the company. We love her for letting us come invade her home for the summer, and she loves as just for being who we are.

Once we start playing the game, we are sucked in for hours. The only breaks are to use the restroom, stretch out our backs and legs, and making sure that we don’t get hungry or thirsty. Our motto is to never do anything half-assed, so it only makes sense that it applies to the video games we play.

“Ah, just chilling with my best friend, playing video games is the best,” Emily yelps as she dies once again in BattleBlock Theater. It is the first real conversation since we dove into the first level.

“Yeah, well, I agree,” I smile as I collect the last gem of the stage. “But this is a teamwork game, so don’t lose focus. I want to fully complete this. Find everything. Make sure the everything is unlocked. Gives me a nice satisfaction.”

“I know. I’m trying. My controller is having problems.”

“Oh, blame it on the controller. Real nice. You aren’t focusing now for some reason. Do you need a longer break?”

“Am I that bad of a liar?”

“Very. I’m your best friend. Your tells don’t even faze me anymore. I just spot it and acknowledge it.”

“This game is hard,” she pouts. “You have to admit that.”

I laugh, “It has gotten a lot hard since the beginning levels. I’ll give you that. That’s how games are though. They can’t be easy forever.”

“Just, give me a little more time to get back into it. The controls are crazy.”

“Shit,” I mumble as my character explodes and quickly respawns.

“Hm, slipping, are we?” Emily teases.

“No, hand cramp,” I groan as a web of pain shots through my hand.

“I actually believe that.”

“You should,” I let go of the controller and massage my hand. “How long have we been playing? It’s been a while since I have spent a whole day just playing video games.”

“Just a few hours, I think. We’ve only gotten through two worlds, but it’s taken a while. Need a break?”

“Yes. Just a few minutes to get this cramp to calm down. We can refill our drinks and swap out our snacks. I need to check my phone, too.”

“Sounds like a good plan,” Emily pauses the game. “Are we going to beat this game this week? We haven’t beaten a game for many months, so that would be nice to do before we leave.”

“Maybe not this week, since who knows if the boys will want to get together with us, but I think that we can get it done before we head back to America.”

“It’s a deal then. We will do it, all the way to completion, before we head home,” she firmly nods, standing up and stretching out her legs.

“And that’s the spirit,” I grin, picking my phone up from the floor beside my beanbag. “This game is actually pretty fun once we got the hang of it.”

“Not when they throw new mechanics at us,” Emily grabs the bag of chips. “I’m going to get some sweets, and then we can set a timer for the rest of our break.”

“We don’t need a time limit,” I giggle, glancing up to see her walk about of the room. “The day is still ours.” I click on my messages to see if anyone has messaged me on this fine day, and it seems like everyone has decided that they want to talk to me. With a small bias for my cousin, I click her name first.

| Nari-noona: Just checking in on my lovely cousin. I’m going to grab take-out from my favorite restaurant tonight, now that you two are more open to Korean cuisine. I’ll see you in a few more hours!

| Me: That sounds great! I never thought that I would like food so different from what I’ve always known, but I am so glad that you eased us in to Korean meals.

“I wonder what she’ll get us,” I mumble as I click on Yoongi’s name.

| Yoongi: Hey, Amber. I’ve been looking for manga that you might want to read, and I have complied a list of ones that I think you will like. I want to give it to you the next time I see you.

| Me: Yoongi, you are too sweet! I’m always looking for more to read, so I can’t wait to see what you have picked out for me. How can I repay you?

| Yoongi: You don’t need to repay me, other than letting me get to know you as you get to know me. I like texting you.

| Me: I like texting you, too. We understand one another, and that means a lot to me.

“That boy, we are going to be super close one day,” I goofily grin as I open up Taehyung’s messages.

| Taehyung: Hello, cutie! I’ve been working hard so that I can get some time off to see you. I also want to make you proud, even though you have never seen me do my job. Hope you are having a lovely day!

| Me: Tae! I’ve just been playing video games all day, and wondering when I’ll be able to see you again. I miss you and all your cuteness.

| Taehyung: I miss you too! I think in a few days we can get a bit of time off so that you and Emily can meet another member. They are all looing forward to meeting you with how much I have talked about you.

I feel my cheeks heat up as I imagine Taehyung gushing about me to his friends.

| Me: You are too sweet, Tae. As soon as you know when you will be free, let me know!

| Taehyung: Sure thing, cutie. Back to practice now! I’ll text you later!

“I am back with cookies,” Emily strolls into our bedroom, plopping down into her beanbag. “Nari always gets so many snacks,” she giggles, looking over at me. “Aw, were you texting your boyfriend?”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” I place my phone down at my feet. “But I was texting multiple people, so anyone of them could have caused my face to become a tomato.”

“Taehyung is the only one who will ever be able to make your face red like that,” she gives me a gentle shove.

“I know,” I chuckle, looking up at the TV to the paused game. “Okay, I think that I am ready to get back into the game. Are you ready?”

“Let me have one cookie, and then let’s beat the third world.”

********

“Being able to walk to the café without any directions from a map means we are either getting more familiar, or we come to this one café way too often,” I chuckle as we turn the corner.

“I think that it is a little bit of both,” Emily tugs me closer; our arms linked to make sure we don’t get separated. “It is super cute, and the drinks are delicious.”

“They know what to get us before we even get there,” I spot Namjoon standing outside of the café. “One day I want to go order for myself, though. To show how far we have come with learning Korean.”

“I’m sure they will let you. You just have to say something before, so that they don’t order as we walk over here.”

I nod a few times, smiling wide as we walk the next few yards to the café in silence.

“Hello girls,” Namjoon flashes a grin. “It is also good to see you.”

“It is a pleasure to be able to meet with you,” Emily unlinks our arms. A dust of pink spreading across her cheeks.

“Anything to get us out of the house is great,” I smooth my hands over my skirt.

The last two days Emily and I have been stuck in the apartment playing BattleBlock Theater for a few hours, and then she plans her scrapbooks while I write. We are constantly listening to music of Korean artists, and at times we’ll play a few songs of BTS. I still want to get to know them all before falling in love with their music sides.

“So, who are we going to meet today?” I tilt my head slightly to the left.

“Jung Hoseok,” Namjoon replies. “Nineteen years old. J-hope is what he goes by on stage. He has okay English, but with how far you girls have come with Korean, I think we’ll be good.

I nod, bouncing on my toes, “Is Taehyung inside?”

“You are so deep in the crush hole,” Emily pats my shoulder.

“He’s in there, don’t worry,” Namjoon smiles, opening the door to the café. “Ladies first.”

Emily and I enter the building with Namjoon close behind. Taehyung is sitting at our regular table with a boy who can only be Hoseok, so we make a beeline for them.

“Taehyung,” I don’t even think twice about sliding into the booth and sitting extra close to the boy that makes my heart speed up just at the thought of him.

“Hello Amber,” Taehyung grabs my hand.

“Hey,” Hoseok grabs my attention.

“Hoseok, this is Amber,” Namjoon motions to me as he glides in next to Hoseok, speaking in Korean. “And this is Emily,” he motions to Emily as she sits next to him.

“Nice to meet you” I smile at Hoseok, piecing the Korean words together like a puzzle.

“Some to you,” Hoseok nods. His shaggy hair is light brown, and styled to stay out of his eyes. He has dark eyes, probably brown but looking black. His face is long with big teeth, plump lips, and a thin, slightly squished down nose.

“It’s nice meeting the boys, one by one,” Emily looks around, sticking with English. “Next summer we should all get together. All the time.”

“Next summer,” Taehyung squeezes my hand like he is afraid that I am going to disappear.

“We leave August sixth,” I explain, thankful that Namjoon can translate this. “Two days after my birthday. Back to America, the States. Then, late next May, we’ll be back. No doubt about it.”

“That’s good,” Namjoon says, quickly explaining to the two boys, but I know that it is mostly for Taehyung. Then he’s back to talking to us. “We really enjoy spending time with you two. Even if we haven’t known each other for that long, I think we all feel like you friends we have known for a while.”

“I agree,” Emily smirks at me. “Summer is a time to make memories, friends, and find a piece of yourself in the puzzle that is life.”

“You read that,” I grin at my best friend, giving her a curious glance.

“Maybe,” she teasingly shrugs. “Regardless, it is true.”

“You talk fast,” Hoseok chuckles, reminding us that we need to speak Korean.

“Namjoon, can you translate?” I rest my head on Taehyung’s shoulder. “Sorry, should have said sooner. I can’t wait until we can speak to all of you without help.”

“You’ll get there, so don’t worry about right now,” Namjoon shrugs. “I should have known. Though, that was an interesting quote, Emily. Where did you read it?”

“In a story not yet on shelves,” Emily looks away from me and up at Namjoon. “It was written by the best friend I’ve ever had. I’m surprised she forgot.”

“Ah, so Amber, you are good with words,” Namjoon grins before looking at the other boys to catch them up.

I lift my head up, narrowing my eyes at Emily. “How can you remember that, but I can’t?”

“Probably because you write all the time, and you have so many stories swirling around in your brain,” Emily grabs the drink that Namjoon has pushed towards her. “I don’t remember every single picture that I have taken, so there is no way that you would be able to remember every single thing you have written. I, on the other hand, am not able to read all that you write, so certain phrases stick out to me.”

“That makes sense,” I tap Taehyung’s leg as Namjoon finishes his translating.

“Yes?” Taehyung looks down at me, a small smirk on his lips.

“Which drink is mine?” I sound like a small child as I ask in Korean.

“Cute,” Hoseok speaks up. “New to the language, but working hard.”

“I try,” I awkwardly smile as Taehyung pulls my drink towards me. “Thank you, Tae,” I grab the cup, sipping on the hot chocolate.

“You’re welcome,” Taehyung pats my knee.

“Hoseok wants to know what you girls like to do,” Namjoon looks between Emily and me, asking in our native tongue. “I told him that Amber, you like writing and manga, and Emily, that you like photography and creating scrapbooks. I also said you play video games together. General things, but we don’t know you that well yet.”

I nod, placing my cup back on the table. “Anime, I love watching anime.”

“Me too,” Taehyung giggles as he brings me into his side for a hug.

“You two could watch a Korean dub with English subtitles,” Emily says. “Boom, perfect date.”

“Date?” Taehyung releases me from his grasp.

“Not right now,” Namjoon brushes the topic off.

“I’d like to watch it in Korean, though,” I pout. “I do like that idea, though, for later.”

“Are we on a date?” Taehyung asks once again, bringing the conversation back into Korean.

“There’s too many people here for you two to be on a date,” Hoseok shakes his head. “It is cute that you like each other.”

“They are both cute, that is for sure,” Emily adds in.

“Taehyung’s happiness is a lot higher since meeting Amber,” Hoseok nods a few times.

“I have to agree with that,” Namjoon slides a chocolate chip cookie to Emily and then one to me.

“She’s cute, and funny, and texts back, and likes me,” Taehyung grabs my hand.

“I also enjoy being with you,” I squeeze his hand. “One day, I can say that about all of BTS.”

“Okay, as much as I love talking in Korean,” Emily switches back to English. “I just don’t have the vocabulary that Amber does to keep up with all of you,” she lets out a breath.

“Sorry,” I grimace.

“I can catch you up,” Namjoon looks at Emily. “I’m a translator, remember. It goes both ways.”

“I’m trying to learn as fast as I can, but I just do not have the knack for it like Amber does,” she smiles at me. “You are picking up Korean faster than you do German, which is kind of saying something.”

“I like Korean more than I do German, so that is probably why,” I shrug.

“Why are you learning German?” Namjoon asks.

“School,” I reply. “You have to take a foreign language, so we picked German. I wanted to take French, but they stopped offering it when we made it to high school.”

“French would have destroyed us, and you know it,” Emily shakes her head.

“Let me translate, and then we can get back to the broken conversations that we have,” Namjoon chuckles.

“As long as we took the same language, I was content with whatever,” I look at Emily as Namjoon talks to the two boys.

“That’s why we are best friends,” Emily picks up her drink. “Now, we are trying to learn another language, which will mean more to us. As long as I get to do it with you.”

“We need to practice more,” I chuckle. “When Namjoon stops being our translator, that is when I will be happy.”

“I think by this time next year we will be able to have full blown conversations. If we work hard.”

“For sure,” I nod a few times. “That’s the goal then. Better write it down when we get back to the apartment.”

“Alright girls,” Namjoon speaks up. “What should we talk about now?”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Hope you enjoyed reading! Be ready for another chapter in a couple of days because I am going to finish this story before the New Year rolls around. And don’t forget to let me know what you thought! :D

#BTS fanfiction #BTS series #BTS x OC #BTS imagine #Jungkook x OC #Jungkook imagine #Taehyung x OC #Taehyung imagine #Jimin x OC #Jimin imagine #Namjoon x OC #Namjoon imagine #Hoseok x OC #Hoseok imagine #Yoongi x OC #Yoongi imagine #Seokjin x OC #Seokjin imagine #My OCs

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kafeuka · 6 years

Text

[1/1] of random doodles, sweet treats and bubble gum hair

▬ title: of random doodles, sweet treats and bubble gum hair ▬ wordcount: 5585w ▬ pairing: jeon jungkook/park jimin ▬ summary: Jimin works at a cafe as a barista and Jungkook's the son of Jimin's boss. Together, they're just two boys in love.

☆ note: this was requested by yunieusagi and it is A SHITLOAD different than the real request, i have to apologize for that. i know it's a lot different than what you had it mind, but i just can't seem to write it??? idk what the fuck's wrong with me and i am really really really sorry for that. i can't believe this took me a lot of time and the end product is... quite... unsatisfactory... but however, enjoy! thank you for requesting and once again, i am so sorry for how it turned out. (๑>ɷ<๑) read on AO3 here. request here.

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Jungkook had a strong urge to yell at his father to piss off and stop intruding with his life (just like any other kid on their rebellious phase) but he really did not want to irritate the man who provide him with food and daily pocket money. Especially not when Jungkook was dying to get himself the latest video game so he could lock himself in his room and boast to his friends how he managed to finish the entire game in one seating.

He entered the café through the backdoor, greeting Somin who was on a break and nodded his head to Yien.

The smell of coffee wafted in the air, making him scrunched his nose delightfully as he took the nearest seat at the counter. While initially he hated the idea of him staying until closing time, he figured he might as well do something productive while he was at it.

In Jungkook’s dictionary, however, productive meant filling his sketchbooks (and textbooks) with doodles and sketches of random things and people.

His father was away for a business meeting and he was given the job to lock the café. He could have lied and given the keys to one of the workers but his dearest father had specifically assigned him to the task. Mingyu once suggested that his father was probably having high hopes that Jungkook would have taken the family business and Jungkook thought it was a crazy idea, but it seemed to make more sense now although Jungkook made it crystal clear that he wanted nothing to do with the café.

Breathing in the scent of coffee, he flipped open his sketchbook and took out a mechanical pencil from the pocket of his hoodie. His mind was as blank as the page of his book, and when the lead touched the paper, he began scrawling and doodling whatever he could. Sometimes he would draw people, at times he would draw animals. Half of his sketchbook was filled with drawings of people; they did not serve him as an inspiration, but rather something for him to work on.

He was not searching for perfection, but just a proof that he could bring an image of them to life.

Jungkook was drawing Minghao from memory – which he totally sucked at (and now Minghao looked like he got ran over by a lorry) – when he felt a presence in front of him. He looked up to find Jimin was smiling at him, small hands gently pushing the ceramic cup towards Jungkook.

Jimin was one of the new workers his father hired recently, the only one in the café he was unfamiliar with and he absolutely had no intention to, as Jimin had bright pink hair that grab everyone’s attention. He swore even trees would turn to look at him if he passed by one.

“Hey. Jungkook, right?” he asked, beaming as if he ate light bulbs for breakfast.

Too bright for Jungkook’s liking.

“Yeah,” he answered, drawing lines on Minghao’s hair.

“Somin told me to make this for you. She said it’s your favourite.”

Jungkook casted a glance at the ceramic cup which was filled with whipped cream drizzled with melted Nutella and topped with tiny marshmallows along with chocolate pocky sticks. Hot chocolate, just for Jungkook, just the way Jeon Jungkook likes it.

“You made it…?” he questioned, sounding sceptical.

The regular hot chocolates were different than Jeon Jungkook’s Hot Chocolate. Unlike the Regular Hot Chocolates for Basic People, Jungkook’s had extra whip cream, extra melted Nutella, extra tiny marshmallows and extra chocolate pocky sticks because he was that extra.

(And also because he was the boss’ son, and he liked all the workers who tried to kiss his ass and pamper him around.)

The bubble gum-haired man nodded, smiling once again.

“Don’t worry, it’s as good as Somin’s. She’s the one who taught me after all.”

“Okay…”

“Alright then, I’ll leave you to your work. You’re taking the university entrance exam this year, yeah? Good luck!” Jimin grinned once again, this time pumping his fist in the air before ruffling Jungkook’s hair and proceeded to work.

Jungkook muttered in annoyance under his breath, fixing his tousled hair.

Jimin was lying when he said it was as good as Somin’s because somehow, it tasted better. Not as sweet as Somin made and Somin’s always extra sweet when she made things.

It only dawned to him that the café was closing down when he heard Yien shouting a ‘bye!’ from the kitchen, exiting through the backdoor. Jungkook groaned, sitting up straight to crack the kink on his neck. He was slouching the whole time he was sketching and he was not proud of the final product. Not at all.

“I’m going home, Kook. Jimin’s still here so don’t lock him in, okay?” Somin sing-songed, patting Jungkook’s shoulder as she passed by. “Bye!” she chirped, waving a hand while the other pushed open the glass door.

“Bye.”

Just as he was about to pack his stuff, he turned to find Jimin was working on something behind the counter by the blender. He let out a sigh, wishing for the young barista to hurry up. From how concentrated Jimin was, Jungkook figured it would take him some time before he could close up the café.

The café was empty except for the two of them. All the tables were cleaned and chairs slotted perfectly on top of them. He was suddenly itching to sketch the empty place. The lights outside were still on, and the book shop across of them still had a few customers inside as they closed an hour later than them.

Jungkook sighed as he scratched his head, not knowing the right words to say to Jimin. He racked his brains to find polite version of ‘hurry the fuck up’ but instead, the only thing he could say was “Uhh…” making him sound like an idiot.

Finally, after struggling internally, he murmured, “Excuse me… but we’re closed now, just so you know.”

“Sorry,” Jimin giggled. He had his back turned to Jungkook, making it difficult for the boss’ son to see what he was up to. “I’m trying this new recipe and thought it’ll be great.”

‘What does that have to do with me?’

“And since Mr. Jeon isn’t here, I think you should try it.”

“Maybe some other—”

“And it’s done!”

Jimin turned to him with a huge grin, wiggling his eyebrows as he presented Jungkook a pink cupcake on a plate, frosted with swirly cream cheese and topped with rainbow sprinkles. Jungkook did not have the heart to tell Jimin that he did not trust any food that had the colour pink in it, specifically because it looked as if it was puked by unicorns and it was just plain weird.

“What do you think? Beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Uh…”

“Cmon, give it a bite! You’ll like it.”

By then, Jimin had taken a seat in front of him, hands on his chin. Jungkook’s plan was to get the hell away from there as fast as his legs could. However, Jimin’s sparkling eyes caged him to stay seated and reluctantly, he reached out for the plate. Jimin batted his eyelashes excitedly, his big smile stretching to his pierced ears.

Jungkook gave him a fake smile, silently praying that he would still live after taking a bite. The cupcake looked wonderful, too wonderful to be true and sometimes, certain things that looked wonderful tend to have bad effects. Like that one game he downloaded last week for example. The previews looked neat, but turned out it was a ripped off of Candy Crush.

After a few moments of hesitating and cursing his father inside his head, he took a small bite and —

“How was it?”

— he took another bite again and again and again.

“Holy shit.” His eyes were wide open, gawking at the half-eaten cupcake.

“What what what?” Jimin bugged, eyes as wide as Jungkook’s as his feet tapped repeatedly on the floor. “Is it bad? Oh god, I knew I shouldn’t have—”

“No, no. This…” Jungkook swallowed. Oh god. “This is good. Jimin, this is the best thing I’ve had today. No, all week!”

A faint pinkness dusted his cheeks, tips of his ears burning red as he grinned again. “You’re flattering me.”

One bite later, Jungkook was only left with the paper cup and pink crumbs. He let out a sigh of content. “That was good.”

“You have something…” Jimin murmured, reaching forward to grab hold of his chin.

Startled, Jungkook stayed frozen in his seat, unable to move with Jimin’s eyes staring intensely at him. Jimin wiped the corner of his lip gently before backing away to his seat and licked the cheese cream clean from his finger.

Jungkook tried to suffocate a flush that was trying to creep on his cheekbones and snorted. “Could’ve just told me, could you.”

Jimin smiled again, this time it reached his eyes, making them curve like half-moons. “Wouldn’t wanna waste it.”

“Freak,” Jungkook muttered under his breath, looking away and pretended to be busy packing his stuff. “I gotta close down the café. Hurry up, will you? I have school tomorrow.”

♡

“Are you saying that, that guy over there,” Khunpimook said, jerking his head towards Jimin’s direction, “Super cute uni guy, flirts with you?”

“Shh, not so loud!” Jungkook gritted his teeth, hitting Khunpimook on his arm.

Khunpimook winced in pain, rubbing on the sore spot whereas Mingyu only let out a chuckle at his friends’ antics. Seokmin came to their table after getting his orders and sighed dreamily, “Jimin is so cute.”

“What,” Jungkook deadpanned.

Mingyu snorted.

Khunpimook sardonically grinned. “Oi, bros don’t steal bros’ hoes.”

“He’s not my hoe. He’s not a hoe!”

“Nobody said anything about him being your hoe, you hoe,” Khunpimook shot back.

“Ooooh,” Seokmin wiggled his eyebrows, giving Jungkook the creepiest smile he had ever witnessed in his eighteen years of living. “Somebody has a crush~”

“That all make sense now! No wonder you’re eager to come here today!” Mingyu clapped his hands together. The others on the table gasped dramatically before smiling creepily at Jungkook.

A humiliated blush climbed up his neck and face, and as he opened his mouth to defend himself, Jimin came towards their table to serve Seokmin his latte.

“Latte for Handsome Guy?”

“That’s me,” Seokmin beamed proudly. “Thanks, Jimin.”

“More like handsome horse,” Mingyu snickered, earning a high five from Khunpimook.

Jungkook gagged internally at how cheesy Seokmin was being. And he gagged even more when Jimin smiled at him, as if he was enjoying all the attention Seokmin was giving him. Mingyu nudged on Jungkook lightly, just as he usually did whenever Jungkook had a crush on someone but it was unnecessary this time because Jungkook totally did not have a crush on Jimin.

No way.

He did not realise he was staring at Jimin until Jimin looked up to him and smiled. The same smile he had given to Seokmin. “Hi, Kookie.”

Khunpimook whipped his head to Jungkook in a speed of lighting, nose flaring and mouth wide open at the nickname Jimin was calling him. Jungkook had to pretend he did not see the ridiculous face Khunpimook was making, afraid that his dumb reaction would have implanted funny ideas inside Jimin’s head. Mingyu, on the other hand, snorted while Seokmin took a sip from his straw as he wiggled his eyebrows.

Jungkook faked a cough to hide his momentary loss of rationality, not looking at Jimin when he replied, “Hey.”

Jimin smiled again before walking back to the counter and as soon as he went away, the boys started to nudge Jungkook and teased him for his red face like the great friends they were.

“Somebody’s in love!” Khunpimook whispered, although Jungkook was certain the elephants in India could have heard him because Khunpimook was not given the ability to lower the volume of his annoying voice.

“Sorry, bro. I will give him up for you,” Seokmin said earnestly with a hand on his chest.

Mingyu chuckled rather loudly. In fact, it was so loud that the couple two seats away from them turned with concerned expressions on their faces.

“Give— give up? What are you talking about?” Jungkook exclaimed, flustered.

“Shut up, Kookie,” Mingyu interjected, imitating Jimin horribly by raising his voice an octave higher and prod his arm with his finger. “We all know what Seokmin’s talking about.”

“Yeah, now I just have to inform the others in the group…” Khunpimook muttered, fingers vigorously typing on the keypad of his phone.

“Oi, OI! DON’T YOU DARE—”

♡

“You seem to be enjoying drawing a lot.”

“Hm?” Jungkook flushed, instantly covering the book with his arms. It was completely useless though, as Jimin had seen his horrid drawings of muscle bunny.

He was sitting in front of Jungkook with his chin resting on one hand, head tilted slightly as he smiled. “Are you applying for art when you’re entering Uni? You’re good at it. Although… I couldn’t really tell what sort of creature that was.”

“It’s Cooky,” he muttered, face scarlet with embarrassment.

The only people who had seen his drawings were his circle of friends and like the jerks they were, they made fun of it. Not that Jungkook really minded, it was not as if he was doing it seriously.

“Cooky…?”

He caught onto his confusion quickly and added, “He has a face of a rabbit and human body.”

Jungkook begged his mouth to stop betraying him. If his friends would not understand what Cooky was, how would Jimin? It was only the third time they ever talked, and they were not on that level of friendship yet (honestly, Jungkook did not want to be friends with Jimin) ((He wanted to be more, but Jungkook did not know that yet)), so why did he felt a little bit excited to talk about his child to Jimin?

Jungkook looked down on his art before closing the book.

A hint of smile glinted at Jimin’s lips, almost as if he found Jungkook to be endearing.

“And no, I’m not going to take art. Father would want me to take business. He knew I hated science.”

“Hm.” Jimin exhaled loudly through his nose, changing his other hand for him to rest his chin on. “Why would you want to take business? No offence to Mr. Jeon, but he’s not the one who’s going to study at the university, isn’t he?”

Jungkook twisted his lips to the sides a bit and slouched. “Father was right… art’s not going to bring me anywhere. Not here, anyway.”

Jimin smiled fondly and Jungkook hated the way he wore the smile on his face. It made his insides turn and his heart beat accelerating painfully as if he was running a marathon. He did not like how hard his heart pounded, how his mind blanked out when Jimin did that.

“You’re wrong. Your father’s wrong too.”

Jungkook was taken aback by his blunt statement, but made nothing to interrupt him.

“You love drawing and I can see that you’re good at it. If you really enjoy it, I think you should go for it. Perhaps you could take it as your minor subject,” Jimin suggested. “Besides, you can earn money by drawing too, you know. My friend’s a webcomic artist, I could ask her for help if you’d like.”

“Really?” He could not contain the excitement in his voice, only for the small light of hope he was holding to disappear completely in the darkness when it dawned to him that he had no time to be horsing around. “That’s nice of you, but I have exams to think about.”

“Yeah, and yet here you are, drawing half-man half-bunny and me.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened in surprise as he took a sharp intake of breath. After screaming internally, he asked with a shock, “W-what? L-look, no, it’s not—”

Jungkook’s face was as red as the apron he was wearing, trying his hardest to explain but he could only sputter indignantly which gave Jimin a spark of satisfaction as he smirked.

Seeing Jimin sardonically grin made him took a deep breath and berated himself to stop vomiting whatever words he could find inside his brain. Two deep breaths later, he managed to calm himself though his cheeks were still tainted red.

“Don’t get the wrong idea, okay. I drew everyone,” Jungkook explained, ears burned hot. His eyes skipped around the room; everywhere but not Jimin’s eyes. “I tend to draw anyone on my line of sight when I’m bored.”

“Does that mean I should get out of your line of sight then?”

Jungkook sighed exasperatedly, his cheeks turned a darker shade of red.

“I’m just kidding, Kookie. You’re so easily flustered,” Jimin giggled, getting up from his chair. “I was flattered for nothing then…” his voice drowned into a whisper, but Jungkook managed to hear it loud and clear.

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” he chirped. “Let’s go then. It’s almost eleven.”

♡

The one-week Jungkook’s father had been gone, Jungkook learnt a lot of things.

Things like the courses Jimin took in Uni. (He was a math major while his minor was chemistry. Screams hell to Jungkook, to be honest.)

Things like how Jimin preferred strawberry over chocolate. (Jungkook found himself craving for the strawberry cupcake one night he was sketching comic panels about Cooky and Jimin happened to be making a batch on the next day.)

Things like how Jimin’s eyes crinkled at the corner when he smiled. (It was the most beautiful thing Jungkook had ever seen.)

He did not mind closing up late if it meant he could spend a little bit more time with Jimin. Being five minutes alone with Jimin would already sufficed. His sketchbooks were filled with pink colours, all which belonged to Jimin’s hair. He was extra careful when drawing Jimin now, often turning onto the next page to pretend he was sketching Cooky whenever Jimin was nearby. Jimin always gave him The Smile as if he knew what Jungkook was hiding.

A part of him hated how easily Jimin made him open himself up. Jungkook was shy to begin with, although he appeared to be stoic during first meetings, but he found himself telling his ideas to Jimin and Jimin was always supporting and assuring Jungkook his ideas mattered. His heart always felt full when Jimin praised him.

Instead of laughing to his face about how ridiculous his ideas of Cooky was, Jimin only smiled endearingly and asked if he could see more sketches of Cooky.

And when Jungkook lied on his bed in the middle of the night, eyes wide awake as he stared at the ceiling and head filled with images of Jimin smiling like the pink-haired angel he was, this was the exact moment when Jungkook realised.

‘Shit, I’m in love.’

♡

“You’re in WHAT?”

“Quiet!” Jungkook hissed, slapping the back of Yugyeom’s neck.

“Son of a bitch, it hurts!” Yugyeom whined, rubbing the wounded area before punching Jungkook on his arm.

“That’s what you get for being loud!”

Yugyeom rolled his eyes in annoyance and winced. “Motherfucker,” he muttered under his breath. He glanced at Jungkook before grinning and nudging his best friend playfully. “So, it was true, huh? What Khunpimook said in the group?”

“That was not true. Jimin was certainly not my—”

“You and Seokmin should fight to the death for Jimin’s honour.”

“Kim Yugyeom,” Jungkook sighed, stopping to place a hand on Yugyeom’s shoulder dramatically. “You’re a fucking idiot.”

Yugyeom shrugged his hand off his shoulder. “What do you plan to do then? Just watch him creepily from afar like the King of Creep Land you are?”

“I don’t know,” Jungkook whispered in defeat. “What do people do with their feelings? Puke their feelings out and flush them down the toilets?”

“If it was that easy, Mingyu would have been over Jeonghan now,” Yugyeom murmured.

“Unhelpful, Kim Yugyeom.”

“As if you have better ideas.”

“I think… I think I actually do.”

Jungkook had never spent so much time and effort doing something before in his whole life. The pocket money he received from his father was spent on high quality pens now rather than the video game he was dreading to play.

Each stroke was perfectly thought of, and he was careful when choosing the colours.

It might seem stupid but he thought it will be worth it.

It had to be.

♡

Jimin’s shift started a little later after six as his class ended around five. He greeted their regulars with the same smile and enthusiasm, and occasionally he glanced to the seat near to the counter to find it was empty. It had been days since Mr. Jeon arrived from his trip which meant it was unnecessary for Jungkook to be there as he was not in charge with closing down the café anymore.

Still, Jimin hoped Jungkook would stop by to say hi. Sometimes he would come by during lunch with his funny group of friends, but Jimin would be in Uni then. He gathered this information from Somin, who was more than glad to share anything Jungkook related to Jimin. He could not stand the teasing, but Somin might be right on this: he did like Jungkook.

(“He’s a kid, Somin,” Jimin protested with a pout.

“He’s eighteen, Jimin,” Somin countered back with an eyeroll. “Besides, he’ll be your junior in Uni next year.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Yeah? Then give my boy some love. I think he likes you too.”

“Somin!”)

Jimin turned red at the memory of Somin insisting that Jungkook liked him too. At the start, Jimin just wanted to be on the boss’ son good side but their little talks got a little bit more interesting as time passed by and Jungkook always made him smile more than he was supposed to. He loved Jungkook’s creativity, how he wanted to make another world of half-men and half-bunnies and he absolutely, terribly, deeply in love with how concentrated and serious Jungkook was when it comes to drawing.

Jimin was brought back to reality when he heard a familiar yet small “hi”. He turned to find Jungkook was in front of him, hands fiddling with what seemed like a new sketchbook. He would be lying if he said his world did not brighten up even the slightest.

(Because it did. Jungkook always made his day better.)

“Hey,” he said, a little too excited. He cleared his throat in an attempt to tone down his excitement and repeated, lowering his voice down a little, “Hey.”

“Uh, well, I-I’ll have the usual,” he stammered.

“Alright,” Jimin chirped. “Long time no see, Kookie.”

“I know, haha, I’ve been so busy.”

Jimin raised an eyebrow. “Can’t drop by to say hi?”

For some unexplainable reason, Jungkook choked on air and struggled to let the words out of his mouth. Jimin chuckled, shaking his head at how flustered Jungkook became. “You know I was joking, right. You’re busy, I get it. I’ll get you your drink in a sec.”

“Thanks,” Jungkook murmured.

Just as he grabbed the ceramic cup, Somin came to poke Jimin on his side and squealed. “So, what did he say? Did he say he love your eyes or your beautiful smile? I always knew Jungkook was a romantic! That boy may look like a stone, but he’s cheesier than cheese. If that makes any sense.”

Jimin rolled his eyes, huffing. “No. He just came by to draw again, I think.”

“Draw you, you meant?”

“It was only one time, Somin. He only drew me once, I’m pretty sure he draws you too.”

“He does, actually. He draws everyone. I think that’s just creepy,” Somin shrugged.

“Nah, it’s cute.”

“Love makes us blind,” Somin sighed dramatically.

“I’m not—”

Somin cut his sentence of with feign enthusiastic “Talk to you later!” as she skipped to the register to take a customer’s order.

When Jimin brought Jungkook’s hot chocolate to him, the boy appeared restless. His foot was tapping vehemently while he was staring intensely on the cover of the notebook. He almost jumped in surprise when Jimin placed his drink on his table, making Jimin almost felt sorry for startling him like that.

“Here you go.”

“Thanks, uh, Jimin?”

“Yeah?”

Jungkook glanced at the wall clock and murmured, “I… I wanna talk to you.”

Jimin was bewildered at Jungkook’s sudden change of behaviour. It was always Jimin who approached Jungkook first, who struggled to make a conversation because Jungkook always replied with a word or two. He was elated that it was Jungkook who wanted to interact this time.

“Sure,” Jimin conceded, glimpsing on his wrist watch. Ten minutes until closing time. “Ten minutes, alright? I gotta work.”

“Okay.”

It was the longest ten minutes of Park Jimin’s life.

He was excited and scared at the same time of what to come. From his observation (aka stealing glimpses of Jungkook through the break room’s window), Jungkook was only drinking his hot chocolate rather than drawing. He seemed to be staring at the clock a lot too.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Jimin muttered to himself, excitement surging through his veins when it was only one more minute until ten.

What was Jungkook going to say? He could not come up with a reason to assure himself that it was nothing serious but from Jungkook’s nervous expression, Jimin’s head can only conjure the worst-case scenarios possible.

What if Jungkook chose to drop out of college because of Jimin’s talk? He knew he should have kept his mouth shut. Now, he was going to get fired for causing the drop out of Mr. Jeon’s son and he would have to find another part time job.

Or what if it was even more serious than dropping out? Maybe Jungkook wanted to run away to become a cartoonist and wanted Jimin’s help to find somewhere to live.

Or what if Jungkook had a terminal illness —

His freaking out session was interrupted when his watch gave a little noise, signalling it was already ten. He glimpsed through the window to see Jungkook was still there.

“Oh my god,” he whispered to himself. “I’m going to ruin his and my life.”

“What the fuck are you muttering to yourself about?” Chanyeol interjected.

“Nothing,” Jimin answered, a little too quick that it raised suspicion and Chanyeol’s eyebrow. Chanyeol focused his gaze to where Jimin was staring and his lips quirked into a smile.

“Ooh, I see now. Go get it, lover boy.”

“Shut the fuck up, no one’s getting anything tonight.”

“Well, I do. I’m gonna get fucking la—”

“I don’t wanna know.”

Anxious? Totally.

Scared? To the very.

While Jimin preferred for them to be talking alone, he felt relief that there were still customers around.

With shaky fingers, he pulled the chair and sat in front of Jungkook. “Hey.”

“H-hey.”

Jimin cleared his throat, shifting in his chair and hoped his nervousness was not evident when he said, “So… what do you wanna talk about?”

Jungkook sniffed, staring at his fingernails when he spoke.

“As you know, I’m terribly bad at expressing myself with words.”

Oh my god.

“So, I hope this would be enough,” Jungkook murmured, sliding the sketchbook to Jimin.

Jimin scrunched his eyebrows in confusion, slowly looking up to Jungkook only for to Jungkook look away when their eyes met. The cover of the sketchbook was dark blue, different from the usual black one Jungkook brought.

He was hesitant at first and when he turned to the first page, the worries dissipated into thin air.

Jimin’s eyes grew bigger, fingertips grazing lightly against the paper. On top of the page was written ‘First Night’ with a date written in smaller size underneath it. Jimin did not know what it was at first until his eyes travelled south to see four comic panels drawn by Jungkook.

The first panel was a drawing of the first hot chocolate Jimin made him. The text box next to it read:

Jimin snickered, not daring to look up to Jungkook. The next panel was a drawing of the strawberry cupcake Jimin made for him with a lot of tiny little red hearts surrounding it. Jimin could not help but cracked a smile at the adorable drawing.

He moved to the next panel which had a drawing of both of them sitting on the table. Jimin took his time admiring it, he knew Jungkook spent a lot of time trying to perfect it. He captured the colour of Jimin’s hair perfectly, although he exaggerated a little by drawing sparkles and flowers next to Jimin’s face.

Jimin could feel his cheeks heating up when he read it. He was not sure how he could look up to Jungkook now. In his defence, Jimin did not flirt, never did anyways, not to Jungkook. “That incident” Jungkook was referring to had to be that time Jimin wiped the frosting off Jungkook’s lip – he swore it was accidental, that it was just his reflex. He had no idea it had such an effect on Jungkook.

The last panel had a sketch of Jimin smiling. It made Jimin’s heart all warm and as Taylor Swift said it, all he felt “in his stomach was butterflies”.

His finger lingered on the drawing of him longer than it should and just as he was about to look up to Jungkook to say a few words, Jungkook panicked. “That’s not the end! Turn! Turn to the next page… please…” his voice drowned into a whisper and he coughed to mask his embarrassment.

Jimin could feel his heart on his throat and jaw dropped in amazement when he revealed the next page. The top panel was a drawing of Jungkook being flustered with two think bubbles drawn on top of his head. The first think bubble had a doodle of small building labelled ‘uni’ while the next think bubble had a doodle of pencil.

Jimin was smiling so much that it began to hurt but he did not care.

The bottom panel was much bigger than any of the panels Jungkook created. It was a drawing of Jimin’s backside view. This had to be Jimin’s favourite because of the radiant colours and little glitters Jungkook added to the pages; it was different than the others as this one had longer texts on the text box situated on the left corner of the panel.

“Wow… Kookie… I…” Jimin murmured, reading the words over and over again. He gulped and blinked to clear the mistiness from his eyes. To say he was touched would be understatement because the drawings were beautiful, the drawings of Jimin were wonderful and it dawned to him that this was how Jungkook saw him.

The next page had a doodle of Jungkook making a heart shape using his hands and the text below said:

“Holy shit,” Jimin muttered, bewilderment was evident on his face. He looked at Jungkook, whose face was scarlet in embarrassment.

Jungkook had to force himself to look at Jimin straight into his eyes, determined to make Jimin know how sincere he was. Clearing his throat, he spoke. “I like you, Jimin.”

“J-Jungkook—”

“It’s okay if you can’t return my feelings. Just as a reminder, I am Mr. Jeon’s son, which meant I can come here whenever I please until you like me back—”

Jimin erupted into fits of giggles, his crescent eyes appearing as his body vibrated.

“— I’m serious,” Jungkook exclaimed with a pout, face turning even redder than before.

At this, his giggles turned into laughter. Jungkook pouted, crossing his arms together.

“Are you done?” Jungkook asked scathingly as he watched Jimin wiping a tear away from his eye.

“You don’t- you don’t have to make me like you just because you like me.”

Jungkook frowned.

“The feeling’s mutual, dummy.”

Jungkook’s mouth dropped to the floor. His brain chose to repeat Jimin’s sentence over and over again and when he finally registered it, he clamped his huge mouth shut. “Oh.”

“Mmhm.”

“Oh. Uh. Really?”

“Really.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“I like like you. Are you sure you like like me too?” Jungkook asked slowly, emphasizing the like.

Jimin let out an exasperated sigh. “I do.”

“So…” Jungkook murmured, daring to look abashed as he scratched his nape. “Are we boyfriends now or…?”

Jimin giggled. “Sure, if that’s what you wanna call me.”

“You do know that means you’re mine right? Like, really mine. You can’t smile to Seokmin anymore, he always has the hots for you. No smiling at the customers either, that one regular was always eying you whenever she’s here. She’s so creepy, ugh—”

“As if you’re not staring at me either.”

“Oi.”

“I’m joking, chill!”

“What have I gotten myself into…” he sighed, staring helplessly at Jimin. Jimin only gave him a smile.

“Somin was right.”

“About what?”

“You’re cheesier than cheese.”

“What the fuck does that even mean…”

♡

“Damn it, I really wanna see what’s inside that book!” Somin grumbled, tiptoeing to peek at Jungkook and Jimin through the glass on the break room.

“You’re such a weirdo, Somin. I should’ve called the police,” Chanyeol muttered.

“Is it okay for us to stare at them like this?” Yoonji fretted.

“Shut u— LOOK AWAY LOOK AWAY THEY CAUGHT US STARING.”

#busanboysnet #jikook #kookmin #jikook fanfic #kookmin fanfic #kfk:oneshot

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vanteism · 7 years

Text

fourth of july 01 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader genre: fluff, angst, and slight smut word count: 9k+ description: you and i were fireworks that went off too soon.

A/N: this is the first part out of two! this is based off the song fourth of july by fall out boy. also, a break symbolizes a new season and italics are a flashback!

It started 5 years ago. Your infatuation was peaked when your eyes came across the boy that is Jeon Jungkook. You were only 14 years old, 2 months younger than him, and your whole world changed ever since you met it.

High school. Everyone dreads it but it was supposed to be the best 4 years of your life. The loud and disruptive sound of your alarm blared through your brightly lit room. You rubbed your eyes, slowly getting rid of the blur and alerting your waking senses. You pulled over the soft white comforter, releasing all the pent up heat you kept under it. The chilling air helped ease your drowsiness as you stumbled towards your bathroom. Immediately looking into the big round mirror in front of you, you can see the lack of sleep and oh boy, was it bad. ‘Man I shouldn’t have been up so late last night..’ you thought to yourself, an unimpressed look on your face. You did your morning routine, the one you had stopped doing the day the bell released you from your prison that is school. Washing your face, brushing your teeth, and whatever else you felt like you had to do.

You soon walked out, approaching your closet and whipping out your freshly ironed clothes. You dressed up in your new school uniform, buttoning up every button and making sure everyone was in place. You walk in front of the full-length mirror that was attached to your closet door. ‘Hmm.. not bad (Y/N), not bad.’

A smile spread across your face as the smell of a home-cooked breakfast filled your nose and you rushed to see where it was coming from. You hopped into the kitchen, and you were greeted by your mom cooking up your favorite breakfast. You approach her from behind, placing a soft kiss on her cheek. “Ugh mom, can you do this for the rest of the school year?” You asked with a humorous tone. Your mom chuckled to herself before gently placing your breakfast on a plate and then moving the plate to your dark oak table. Sitting down, you quickly ate your breakfast, the feeling of butterflies filling the pit of your stomach as you continued to ponder about the upcoming day at school.

“You nervous honey?” You mom asked, a sweet tone hidden in her soft voice. You nodded, scared that once you began talking you wouldn’t be able to stop. Your mind was rushing through so many thoughts, and soon you found yourself lost in them. A gentle tap on your left shoulder brought you back down to Earth, and it was soon followed by the blaring sound of a bus horn. Rushing, you grabbed your backpack and slung it over your shoulder before running out the doors to catch the bus that didn’t seem to stop though it was obvious that you were trying to catch it. Eventually, the bus did stop and thank god, only half the seats were filled, leaving you with a great selection of places to sit. 3rd row. Left seat. That’s the one you chose.

The bus came to an abrupt stop, and you gathered your things before waiting to leave the metal can with wheels. Stepping off, someone ever so rudely bumped into you, but luckily you caught yourself before you had the chance to fall. “Ya! Watch where you’re going!” You exclaimed, slightly irritated that the stranger didn’t seem care that you almost fell. “S-Sorry.” They replied before joining the rest of the crowd moving into the school, and you soon followed.

Grabbing the schedule with your name on it, you wandered around the school looking for your first-period class. After a few minutes of stumbling around, you found the corresponding room. 306; Lamberth; Honors English I. ‘Great.’ you thought. ‘Reading old, sappy stories in the morning. This’ll definitely help me stay awake every day.’ You rolled your eyes, before taking in a deep breath and entering your class. ‘Look for someone you know. Look for someone you know. Look for someone you know.’ kept repeating in your head, but there wasn’t anyone you knew, or really ever talked to. ‘Even greater.’ You spotted an open seat in the back of the relatively small classroom, so you made your way down the neatly arranged desks and to the very seat you had seen. The desks weren’t bad. They were small, wooden, tops, plastic seats, stereotypical desks. Patting your skirt down, you slowly took a seat. You were finally in high school. High. School. It all seemed surreal.

After the first week of school, you found a group of people you could get along with, you had to carry around 3 textbooks and you already had a test scheduled for next week. In your first class, the english one, a boy had caught your eye. He was about 5’10, probably taller. He had big doe eyes and a smile that could light up any room. He wore his uniform rather formally, except for a few button he had left undone at the top of his white uniform shirt.The first day he was shy, but who wasn’t? Though it has only been a week, you saw him changing, talking louder and standing out a bit more. But he had stood out to you from the start. Jeon Jungkook was his name, and he had traveled from Busan to study at this high school in Seoul. No, you weren’t a stalker. Your class had played 2 Truths 1 Lie the second day in. That was just one of the two facts you learned about him. You also learned that he had a dance class for 4th period since that class was close to your own. The other fact he had told you couldn’t hear since he was still quiet then. You wanted to be his friend, but you were scared of making a fool of yourself. Not that he would try to humiliate you, you would end up humiliating yourself. Maybe later this year you would find the courage to do so.

Snow littered the street white in Seoul, The whole city looked like a white blanket had been laid across it, and you loved it. Jungkook was coming over to play in the snow with you. Yes, the same Jungkook that caught your eye. You crawled out of bed to the sound of your alarm clock, still loud and very annoying at times. Getting ready was pretty easy, you just wore everything you could to keep you from getting sick. First, you put on a normal white t-shirt and a pair of soft, black leggings. Next, you layered on a thin gray sweater with the cutest little design on it and a pair of white knee socks. After that, you topped it off with a small, but warm, green winter jacket and a normal pair of boots you had recently bought. You had your hair pulled up in a bun to keep the hair out of your face, and a pair of mittens to keep your hands from freezing.

As soon as you had finished, you heard your doorbell ring. Upon opening the door, you saw an equally bundled up Jungkook with a big bunny smile. You had invited him over to hang out, seeing that it would be easier to talk and get to know him.

“Hey, I brought you something (Y/N), for today’s adventures.” He started, handing you a matching scarf to his. You cracked a smile at his cute gift as you wrapped it around your neck and stepped outside. The next 2 hours were filled with you two throwing snow at each other, making snow angels and a few snowmen, and other random things that popped up along the way. Around 3 in the afternoon, the two of you decided to go and get something to eat.

“(Y/N)-ah, I want hot chocolate~” He whined, acting rather childish.

“Ok, so we’ll go get hot chocolate. MiniMini café? We can grab some food there too.”

He nodded, so you were on the way to a small neighborhood café that you often found yourself in after school. It wasn’t that long of a walk, it was close to your house. You pulled open the glass doors, the fragrant smell of fresh-brewed coffee instantly hitting your face.

“Oh hello (Y/N)!” The ajumma that ran the shop greeted you warmly as she led you and Jungkook to your favorite spot to sit. “What would you like today?” she asked.

You quickly skimmed through the menu, eventually picking a crêpe filled with hot fudge and a small hot chocolate with marshmallows on the side. Jungkook ordered the same drink with a small ham and cheese sandwich. When your drinks were ready, you quickly took a sip of the sweet liquid, before realizing that the drink was actually steaming hot and you were positive you just burn your mouth. “Ow!” You exclaimed, fanning your mouth with your hand. Jungkook glanced over at you, realizing that you had just hurt yourself.

“Ajumma! Can I please have a cup of cold water?” He asked, and she soon came out with a glass for you. He quickly handed you the drink, hoping that it would soothe your mouth.

“You good, (Y/N)-ah?”

“I’m good, Kook.”

You ended up talking to him a lot more after hanging out that winter. He had a similar sense of humor to yours, so you would always find yourself laughing with him by your side. He was a talented dancer, you could see it in the way he moved when the right music was playing, his rhythm flowed with passion and dedication. Nothing much changed since that first week of school, his smile still illuminated the room and made you want to smile too. Were you falling for him? You didn’t know, but you never dared to call the attraction you felt love. It was a mere infatuation.

The bell rang, signaling the end of 6th period. You briskly packed your belongings into your bag, roughly tugging on the zipper so it would close. You stuffed papers into your bag, not caring in they ended up crinkled or ruined. You couldn’t be late, not when earlier that morning Jungkook offered to walk you home. Moving quickly through the big hallways, you could see the front entrance. You approached the school gate, and you could see his masculine figure leaned against the brick columns at the front of the school. His back was faced towards you, his blazer slung onto his left shoulder, his navy backpack placed neatly on the ground next to him. Tip-toeing, you quietly stepped behind him, tapping him lightly on the shoulder. He turned around with a big smile on his face as soon as he recognized that it was you. “Hey (Y/N)! You ready to go home?” He asked politely. He would offer to carry your stuff for you, and he would always ask how your day was, which you always replied with ‘great!’. You would walk down the same street, greeting the same people who soon grew to recognize your faces and the exact time you would be around. He made your first year so much more bearable.

Him walking you home became a normal routine, and you continued to look forward to it every day. Your friends would tease you, pick at you for being so close to someone you had just met, but they too were new friends of yours. It was a great feeling, having something to always rely on. Especially if that something was Jungkook.

Every now and then, you would stop by the same corner store and eat a bowl of ramen. He liked the more plain ones, the shrimp or simply plain ramen, while you liked trying new flavors, the bold new spicy ramen or the weird squid flavored ones. And every time, he’d steal some of it, and you would turn around with a pout on your face, pretending to be mad. He would get flustered the first few times, actually thinking you were upset with him. But after confirming that it was alright, he soon would have a mischievous grin plastered on his face when you turned around to face him. You would gently slap his arm, and he would act like you had hurt him. It was all normal to you by now, but sometimes, you wished there was more. There was always something holding you back, the fear of being rejected or that he would change for the worse around you. So you suppressed your growing feelings, hoping everything would be ok and that it would solve itself.

The next day during lunch, you stepped into the crowded cafeteria. You’ve never been in it, considering your mom loved to pack your lunch every day and you friends often chose to sit outside, under a great oak tree. The atmosphere was making you feel uneasy since big, crowded, humid rooms were never really your cup of tea. Standing in a line that never seemed to end, you felt a tap on your shoulder.

“Kook! What are you doing in here? You normally sit outside too.” You inquired, curious as to what his reasons were.

“Well, since you have to stand in this long line, I thought you shouldn’t have to do it alone.” He replied, making your heart swell. You both smiled, you ask his thoughtfulness, and him at how cute you were acting. But you didn’t know that.

The line seemed to go faster with him by your side, and soon it was your turn to pick out your…”lunch”. You ended up with a flimsy plastic tray. On it, a cheeseburger where the bun wasn’t even on top of it. On the side, you had a few seemingly undercooked french fries, and by a few, you had exactly 4. Across from it, there was a plastic cup filled with fruit that looked to be days old. To top it all off, you had a carton of milk that was slightly warm and slightly alarming. With Jungkook to your left, you made your way out to your usual seating area and sat down in your seats. You ended up only taking one bite out of the burger, and it wasn’t an enjoyable bite. Your friends beside you were cracking jokes and laughing as you struggled to eat the food you were given.

“(Y/N), it’s rock hard isn’t it?” One friend said, laughing at the inappropriate connotation.

“I bet it isn’t even real meat!” Another one started.

“I know! I don’t think it’s real meat either!” Another replied.

You had to agree, it was pretty bad. So you too laughed along.

The end of the day couldn’t have come any slower, your 5th and 6th periods were filled with lectures and long speeches about things you didn’t bother to remember. ‘I can just copy them from someone tomorrow.’ You thought, before dozing off in your final class, eventually falling asleep. A loud ring echoed through your ears, making it obvious that the school day has ended. You woke up, slightly disorientated as you walked towards the door. To your surprise, Jungkook was standing right there, grinning because of how tired you were/looked. “Hey there sleepy-head.” He greeted you. A soft smile appeared on your face, your eyes slightly closed. “You ready to go home?” He asked, and you replied with a quick nod. He walked you home, like always, he said what was on his mind, and so did you.

“What if we died right now?” He had a curious look in his eyes as he gazed into the bright afternoon sky. “I think I’d be ok since I have someone like you right here with me.” You replied.

“Well how about this, if anything were to happen to either of us, and we can’t walk home, we’d still be each other’s side? No matter what.” He looked at you.

“That’s a pretty big subject you’re talking about Kook.” You teased.

“I’m being serious, (Y/N)-ah. I want to know you would be there, and I’ll do that same.” He chuckled.

“Promise?” You replied, sticking out your pinky.

“Promise.” And you two right pinkies were intertwined with each other, the biggest grin on both of your faces.

Many months have passed by, only strengthening your friendship and trust in Jungkook. You two became inseparable, closer than you had ever been with anyone. He brought out the best in you when you couldn’t do it yourself and vice versa. A dainty silver chain was wrapped around your wrist with a small puzzle piece and a discrete necklace around his neck with the matching half to yours. It was something he had gotten you when he went back to his home in Busan the last week of winter break.

You tapped your foot on the linoleum floors of the busy airport, awaiting flight 295 from Busan. It was a short flight, only 55 minutes of flying in the air, above busy streets and an abundance of homes. He chose to fly since his initial move to Seoul was in a crowded, noisy, bullet train. He always told you about it, exaggerating each detail to make it seem like it was a hellish trip. You hear a loud announcement made, stating that his flight has landed, so you made your way to the greeting area.

Waiting, you saw couple reunited, secretly craving for the same thing to happen, but you knew it wouldn’t. A recognized frame soon made its way towards you, before engulfing your smaller one in a hug. You broke out into a fit of giggles, excited for his return but slightly embarrassed at his gesture.

“Kook, it’s only been a week.” You stated, a stern tone evident in your voice, but soon you were lifted off your feet, and the grip around you was tighter.

“I can’t miss my best friend?” He replied, before setting you back down and reaching into his pocket and pulling out a little bag. “I got you a lil something something.” He said as you opened it. A small chain with a shiny charm was inside, and you pulled it out of its package and put it on.

“This is so cute! You didn’t have to get me anything!” You watched as he moved his hand around his neck before pulling out a matching piece to yours. Your eyes widened and soon were almost shut by your big smile. An older couple standing beside you watched, reminiscing about when they were like you two.

“Honey look! Remember when you got me something like that? Aren’t they cute?” The lady asked her husband, who was staring at a map of the airport, trying to figure out where to go to leave. He looked at you, and your stares met before another smile made its way onto his face. He turned to give his wife a hug before approaching Jungkook and whispering something in his ear that made him chuckle. The man patted his back, a look of content on his face as he made his way back to his wife and eventually leaving.

“What’d he say, Kook?”

“Nothing really. You’ll figure it out soon enough.”

Your freshman year was over, and it ended with a bang. Literally. You had broken your ankle and a pool party the last day of school. One of your bigger guy friends had tried to push you into the pool, but instead, you had hit your ankle on the edge of the pool as you fell in. A collective gasp was heard as your friends rushed to aid you. It wasn’t all the bad, he apologized and everyone you knew had shown up in your hospital room to sign your cast and to wish you a good recovery. At the end of the day, you had a neon green cast on your left foot filled with summer wishes and signatures, a few bundle of flowers and a whole bunch of colorful balloons. After everyone had left, the one person who stayed by your side (besides your mom, who went home to get you a change of clothes) was Jungkook. That night, you two had played with the helium balloons, recording every funny moment to later show your mom.

“Hahahaha, I sound like a chipmunk!” You exclaimed, trying to keep quiet since the rooms around you had people in them, and it was almost 11 o’clock at night.

“You think yours is bad? I don’t sound like a man anymore!” Jungkook replied, a fake frown on his face. The whole room was filled with giggles, joy, and upheld promises.

“Thanks for being here Kook, it means a lot.” You said, smiling like an idiot.

“That’s what I’m here for. Since I can’t walk you home from school until August, I guess I’ll just stick by your side.”

“Ya! If you’re gonna be clingy, there’s the door.” You pointed at the big wooden door, a serious look on your face.

“Aw (Y/N), I’m hurt that you want me to leave, I guess I should go.” He replied, getting up and walking towards it.

“Wait! I didn’t mean it like that! Please don’t leave me here alone!” You nearly yelled, scared he would actually leave you in your hospital room. Deep down you knew he wouldn’t but still. Better safe and yell at him to stay than sorry and sad that he left.

“Ok, ok, calm down, I’m not leaving. I told you I’d stay by your side, so I am.”

He comforted you. He made you feel ok. At least, for now.

It has been 2 years since you first met him, and your feelings towards him were stronger than ever. But you continued to hide it, scared of ruining the 2 wonderful years you spent together. You and Jungkook were closer than ever, constantly finding yourself spending days together, sleeping over at each other’s houses. His mom even has stuff set out for you to use on the days she knew you would come over. It was so unreal how well he knew you and vice versa. You could tell when he was down because he would constantly play with his finger or bite his lower lip. You could tell when he was lying because he would start sweating and he would bounce his right leg. You found yourself staring at him when he would show you some of his dances, not just at the movies, but you stared at him, admiring his energy and persistence and overall determination. He dreamed of landing a job as an idol, but he also was scared of the lifestyle. He told you all about it late one day on the phone because he was sick and didn’t want to get you sick. You constantly wondered if you were the only one he talked to like this, and you hoped so.

School was starting up again, your junior year was beginning. You walked into school, wearing the same uniform from 2 years ago, the same backpack in hand. You stared at the schedule you were given, examining your classes and the teachers you would be stuck with. Jungkook walked up to your side, the same jacket slung over his shoulder, and his schedule also in his hand. “Looks like we have 4 classes together, (Y/N)-ah.” He spoke, ruffling his hair. A yawn came out of your mouth due to the early time you had to wake up to be able to get ready in time. “At least I’ll survive those classes. I want to go home, Kook.” You responded, you face expressing fatigue and you began walking to your next class. Jungkook followed, snickering at your laziness. “C’mon (Y/N), you have to be happy for your first day!” But you weren’t you honestly wanted to be home. Starting this year meant that you would only have 730 days until Jungkook left for his dream school and you would leave to go to yours. 730 days to muster up the courage to confess, or at least try.

You had the same English class in the morning with the same teacher, but instead of English I, you managed to pass all the way to English III. You stepped into the very class that held memories that stained your mind. The one time you got in trouble because Jungkook kept whispering your name and you had turned around, fuming and you nearly yelled his name across the whole school.

“JEON JUNGKOOK!”

“(Y/N), what do you think you’re doing?!” You teacher exclaimed in response to your sudden outburst. Needless to say, you got detention that day, and you see the smirk on his face when Lamberth handed you the slip of paper.

“You jerk! Why would you do that?!” You complained, stomping your feet.

“Well, if you had done something the first time I called your name, you wouldn’t be in this predicament.” He replied, making you even madder.

“Why would you want my attention during the middle of class anyways?!”

“I just wanted to say hi.”

The corners of your mouth turned up as you remembered all the details of the moment. He had brought you ice cream after you got out of detention that day and that made you feel much better. Sitting down in the same seat that you sat in the years before, you laid your head on top of your arms, ready to take a nap. Lamberth always lectured the class the first day about the same things, so you wouldn’t miss anything if you were to fall asleep. Also, on the first day, every spent the whole time in their 1st period classes, to make it easier on the student they said. They went over the same classroom rules (that no one bothered to follow), the expectations the school had (that no one ever tried to uphold), and the student handbook (which weren’t even handed out, since they knew the students would throw them away the moment class ended). Upon hearing his loud voice ring through the class, your eyes slowly crept closed, before you actually fell asleep.

Hours seem to pass before you felt someone shake you. “Hmm?” You groaned, irritated because you were happily asleep moments ago. As you bring yourself up, you’re greeted by a pair of eyes staring at you. “Finally, I thought you were dead.” A voice said, your vision is still blurry. Soon you could recognize that the voice belongs to Jungkook and that he was still staring at you. “What? Is it time to leave already?” You mumbled, rubbing your eyes before yawning. “It’s time for lunch.” He replied, excited to finally get out of his seat.

The two of you made your way to the same old seat with the same people under the same tree. You were glad you befriended people that stuck by your side, though they weren’t like Jungkook.

“Why are you guys late?” One of your friends inquired.

“This one was sleeping,” Jungkook replied, a sly grin on his face.

“It’s not my fault his class was boring. It’s the same stuff every year.” You defended, only making more of your friend giggle.

“Whose class?” Another one asked.

“Lamberth.” You and Jungkook said at the same time before sitting down and whipping out your lunches.

This winter was unlike the ones you shared in the past. There wasn’t a huge snowball fight or bundling up for the freezing temperatures outside. The day before the storm hit Seoul, Jungkook had come over to your house to hang out. It’s not that you didn’t want to go outside and play in the snow. It’s because you couldn’t. That night, a huge snow storm hit, leaving you and Jungkook trapped in your house. You mom was over in Japan for a business trip, but as soon as she heard about it, she had called to make sure you were ok.

“(Y/N)! Are you alright? Were you outside? Did you get frostbite?? Oh no, if you did you have to go to the doc-” You mom went on and on before you cut her off.

“Mom I’m fine. Just stuck inside really. And Jungkook’s here too.” You replied, hoping to help her calm down.

“Hey! Ms. (L/N)! We’re ok!” Jungkook yelled in the background. Your mom’s laugh rang through the phone, amused by her own paranoia.

“Ok, just make sure you keep the heat on. I have food in the fridge so just heat it up.” Your mom stated. You quickly exchanged your goodbyes, for she had to go back to work and you didn;t want to disturb her.

The next couple of days were spent watching all the movies you could on Netflix, eating out your fridge, and cuddling. Lots of cuddling. Not the romantic kind, more like the ‘I forgot to change the thermostat and I’m freezing, please hold me before I get hypothermia’ kind of cuddle, but it didn’t keep you from feeling some kind of way when he wrapped his arms around you. Blankets were scattered around the room, along with plenty of unwashed dishes. If your mom wasn’t home, she couldn’t make you clean them. It was a great time with him around, and you didn’t have to worry about getting clothes for him. He slept over so often he had his own drawer of clothes in your dresser. He always found a way to lighten the mood during a serious scene in a movie.

“The dude looks like he’s 7.”

“Kook stop I’m trying to see who killed who.”

“He has a baby face. Like you.”

“Kook! Stop! I’m trying to watch!”

Or..

“If you squint, you can see how much I like this movie.”

“Wait then I can barely see the screen.”

“That’s how much I like this movie. Let’s change it.”

There was never a quiet moment with him, and you loved it. The storm subsided after 4 days, and you decide to quickly run to the store and restock on food. Quickly changing into something you could wear in public, you ran through the house looking for your wallet. You did find it, but it was in Jungkook’s hands and he held it high above your head.

“YA! Give me back my wallet!” You cried out as you attempt to reach for it, but he was too tall. In the time that it took for you to grab it from his hands, he managed to put on a jacket and a pair of boots. Once you had gotten your wallet back, you too had to put on a coat and some shoes you had lying around. “I’m coming with.” He told you. “You should’ve just said that from the start instead of taking my wallet.” You replied, a hint of irritation in your voice. But you couldn’t stay mad for long.

Walking into the relatively empty supermarket, you grab a squeaky metal cart and begin your weekly routine of grocery shopping. Jungkook trailed behind you, constantly looking at all the different snacks and pastries that the shop had in stock, almost mesmerized. Rows of manufactured sweets littered the store, making it a young child’s dream, or in this case, Jungkook’s. “Hey!” You exclaimed, about 4 apples in each hand “Can you grab me some bags or something to put these in?” Jungkook quickly snapped out of it and grabbed a few flimsy plastic bags and handed it to you. As you continued to pick out everything you needed to buy, Jungkook managed to sneak 2 bags of chips, a soda, and a few small boxes of assorted candies into the cart without you noticing. You trudged along, pushing the cart with you, through the entire store, before stopping in front of the ice cream section. Though it was cold outside, you still loved the sweet and savory flavor of the treat, so you decided to buy one for later. Putting the little container beside the variety of produce items you were getting, you noticed the multiple snacks that you never picked out or intended to buy. You could hear an oh-so familiar snicker from behind you, rotating 180 degrees, you were faced with a laughing Jungkook. ‘Aish, this kid..’ you thought to yourself before turned back around and proceeding to go to the checkout area. ‘You’re lucky I love you..’

Today was Spring pictures at school, and as always, your mom wanted you to take them to send to whomever she could. She wasn’t using to brag, the two of you just lived too far away from the rest of your family. Also, this is also the one day they let you go to school without having to wear your uniform, so you decided to dress up for the occasion. You wore a casual outfit, a pair of shorts and a simple white, sleeveless shirt with a collar. You also had a soft, cashmere cardigan to keep you warm since your 3rd period was always cold. A knock on your door was right on time, and you opened it to reveal a very nicely dressed Jungkook. He wore some navy pants with a black-and-white striped shirt tucked in. “You ready to go?” He asked, stepping inside your house and taking a seat on a nearby stool. “Yeah, just let me go grab my bag.” You replied, before doing so.

The pictures went by relatively fast, along with the school day itself. In between blinks you found yourself sitting on an old, worn down stool with a blinding light shining into your eyes, a forced smile on your face, and then suddenly your vision is blurry as you hear a loud ring and a collective groan arise from the seemingly endless rows of desks. An uneasy feeling developed in the pit of your stomach, part of you knew something wasn’t right, but you didn’t pay attention to it and continued on with your day.

Walking home with Jungkook felt weird, he was oddly distant and you were worried. Maybe something had happened today, but if something did, you would’ve been the first person to hear about it, whether he told you in between class changes or he would’ve told you the moment you stepped towards him to begin your walk home. Occasionally, his gaze would shift to the ever-changing sky, as if he was looking for something. But what was it? He dropped you off at your front door, before rushing a hushed goodbye and swiftly walking away. He never did that. He always came in to say hello to your mom and to take a few snacks for the trek to his place. Rummaging through your bag to find your phone, you sent him a quick text.

To Jungkook: “Is something wrong, Kook?”

Moments later, the little gray bubble appeared in the corner of the with 3 moving dots, indicating he was typing a reply. Your heart began to race, nervous thoughts filled your head. Did he notice your feelings towards him? If he did, is he trying to turn you down nicely? Or did he share the feelings too? A few seconds later, the bubble had disappeared, but there wasn’t a reply to your question. You stared at the bracelet that was still on your wrist, wondering whatever happened to make him act like this. ‘Should I call him?’ you thought, hoping that that way you could find an answer.

The phone rang once. Twice. Voicemail.

You felt a chip at your heart at the sound of the prerecorded message. He had actually denied your call, something he had never done before. That night was spent wide awake, your mind going crazy with all the possibilities of what it meant. He had promised to stay by your side but where was he now, when you needed to feel his comfort. You felt something stream down your left cheek, followed by much more. You never knew how hard it had become, not talking to Jungkook. You laid on your bed, surrounded by blankets that soon became a tissue to wipe away all evidence of the pain you felt. Little did you know that this was all a part of a bigger plan, and the immense pain you felt now would be replaced with happier, brighter emotions later on.

After that day, everything was normal. He showed up the next day on your porch, asking if you were ready to go to school as if nothing had happened. A part of you was relieved, but another just wouldn’t stop wondering what happened.

Junior year finally ended, and with one more year to go, you were more determined to make your feelings well aware. It was a risky thought, yes, but you thought might as well. The two of you had planned to go to different colleges, so if your plan were to go awry, you wouldn’t have to deal with the embarrassment and pain of seeing him every day. It was hard enough now, seeing him date others and tell you about how wonderful each one is, and how each time, they were better than the last. You had come up with a plan, to tell him at the end of junior year and see how it would play out the next. You knew that this may mean dealing with those unwanted feelings for a year, but if he did like you, it would greaten the time that you had to spend together. So you did. The last day of school, you wearily approached him and revealed how you felt, but in a much more elaborate way.

You felt your hands trembling with anticipation as you stepped towards him. He had been hanging out with a new friend of his, also a junior but nowhere near the group of people you had become so familiarized with. You gave his jacket a gentle tug, making him turn around and look at you straight in the eyes.

“What is it (Y/N)? Is something wrong?” He asked, worry soon taking over his face.

“No, nothing’s wrong. I just have to tell you something, Kook.”

He nodded, giving the others a quick goodbye before he followed you out into the school courtyard, where it was much more quiet and less crowded. You slyly sneak your hand into your jacket pocket, where the first step to your plan was waiting. Reaching the very tree you sat under every day for lunch, you turned to face him, asking him to wait here and handing him the small slip of paper. He took it, reading the words aloud.

“Feelings. They sure are dumb, huh? But you know what’s dumber and wilder than feelings? What I’m about to do. I know you’re probably confused, but follow the sidewalk and you’ll soon see what I mean.”

And so he did, his feet quickly moving across the concrete path, leading him to a recognizable door that led to the very room that started this all. Room 306.

Upon opening the door, the lights were slightly dimmed, and on either of you desks laid a note with a number on it. Also scattered around the room are even more notes. He picked up note number 1, which was on the desk he sat on the first day of school years ago.

“Remember this? I sure do :D this is where it all started. Now I know what you’re probably thinking, and I had help arranging this is appreciate my efforts at least. When you first walked in, I was intrigued. You seemed like an interesting boy, Kook. Now keep going in order and it’ll piece itself together.”

Note number 2 was placed on your desk.

“This is where I sat when I first saw you, obviously. I wanted to approach you that first day but you didn’t seem like the person I would end up being best friends with at the time lol.”

Note number 3 was placed on an expo marker.

“Now do you know why I picked this? This is what you used to ruin one of my favorite uniform shirts sophomore year. Yeah, I still remember you punk!”

He chuckled as he moved on to the next 2 notes, each recalling a memory the two of you shared. Note number 6 told him to go back to the courtyard for a surprise.

Walking back, he sees you standing in the middle of the way with what appears to be another note in your hand. The small pink petals from the trees above were falling down, making you look heavenly, almost unreal. You have a soft grin on your face as he takes the note from your small hands, gripping it tight with excitement and slight suspense. 3 words were written in the same neat handwriting on the past notes, you made sure that they were legible, and he found himself blushing after reading the 3 words.

“I like you.” He recited, before pulling you into his embrace and holding you tighter than ever before.

“Hey, you just confessed to me, Kook.” You joked.

“All I did was read the note YOU gave me.”

It couldn’t have gone any better for either of you. He took you into his warm embrace, holding you as if there was not going to be a tomorrow. You wrapped you smaller arms around his waist, taking in the scent of his musk, a slight pine with a hint of vanilla, probably from him always being close to you. You could finally call him yours, and he called you his.

Your senior year had finally arrived, and you couldn’t be happier. You walked into the same school with the same best friend, who was now much more than that. He showed you a side of himself you had never seen before. The much more caring, loving, less playful side. Over the summer, he showed you a few songs he wrote, some were about little memories you couldn’t believe he remembered. One included the same words you used on the notes that were a part of your “confession”. One referenced the bracelet/necklace the two of you share, and another brought up the first snowman you built together. Everyone was going so well, so unbelievably well.

You laid your head down on your arm, dazing off during the same introduction you’ve heard for, now, 4 years. A smile crept onto your face when your eyes met Jungkook’s, a warm sensation filling your being in what you could make out to be as happiness. Of course you were happy just being around him before, but now a new sense of it had risen, and was the feeling intoxicating. It made you want to hold on, and never let Jungkook go. A few months with him felt like a lifetime you had missed out on earlier.

“Okay, with that, class is ending early. Feel free to go and get yourself a lunch or whatever, just remember to not leave campus until that day is officially ended.” Your teacher recited, before opening the creaky door that held you inside the room. Almost immediately, Jungkook hopped into the seat next to yours, which was now vacant.

“What do you wanna do, (Y/N)? We have some free time now.” The boy curiously asked, before looking at the somewhat empty notebook on your desk. You shrugged, not able to come up with any ideas that could be somewhat fun. He examined the book, carefully looking at the small sketched that littered the page.

“You barely wrote down anything. What a bad student.” He joked.

“Well, I already have 3 other written copies of it, so I thought might as well not take notes since I have others. Plus drawing is always more entertaining than writing down a bunch of stupid words.” You made sure to say that last part quietly, scared that Lamberth may overhear and get onto you later.

Jungkook handed back your book, before gathering his things and getting up. “Come on (Y/N), let’s go explore!”

“Explore what??? We know this school inside and out?!”

“I don’t know, there may be something we haven’t found yet!” His childish demeanor still shone through, and that you loved. He never really changed.

You were graduating. It finally comes down to this. You were adorned with 5 honors cords, for your work outside of school, whether it was for a club or to the special achievements you made throughout your 4 years. Jungkook stood next to you, with 4 cords on his broad shoulders, all of varying colors. The gown you were given to wear was too big for you, but they couldn’t get you a smaller one in time, so you were stuck with it. He nervously moved to his assigned spot in line, before looking back at you and mouthing the words ‘Good Luck’ and you said it back at him. You could hear the loudspeaker announce that it was time to walk in.

“(Y/N) (L/N)! Accepted scholarship to the University of Seoul! She graduates with 5 honors, making her the top of her senior class!”

You heard it, the call for you to walk across the stage and to go get your diploma. You nervously held onto the large gown as you made your way across the velvet-like carpet that covered the stage, and you could hear the cheers of your family, who had come over for the important occasion. You shook the hands of your principal, and the vice principal, and the rest of the people who were there, despite you not knowing them. The screams of your friends could be heard, and you looked into the crowd to see several of them were standing up and yelling your name. Everything was going so well for you, and Jungkook too. He had been called onto the stage earlier, showing off his honors and his scholarship to the same university as you. The cheers when his name was called were loud, and you were continuously nudged, reminding you that your boyfriend was going to be by your side and you could hear your friends giggling about it.

Later, at a family dinner you mom had set up for both families, you were given praises and gifts to celebrate your spot in school. Your mom had rented out the place to accommodate the large amount of people who would be attending. It was fancy, but it wasn’t too over-the-top. Jungkook and you stood side by side at the entrance to the restaurant it was held at, greeting everyone you knew that came in. By the time everyone was there, you had lipstick stains on one cheek, and the other was slightly red from all the pinching that had happened, and the same went for Jungkook. Walking to the two open seats reserved for the two of you, you sat down, basking in the company of your family, the ones you couldn’t see every day. Toasts were made, but you weren’t allowed to drink here due to your age. Wishes for a good future were passed around, and tiring you out more than ever before. By the end of the night, you found yourself snuggled up to Jungkook’s chest, an old movie playing on the T.V., eyes drooping as they threatened to close. He held you tighter, his warm embracing adding to your drowsiness.

“We made it (Y/N).’

“We sure did Kook, we sure did.”

Loud music was blaring through the entire building. One of your fellow classmates was holding a house party to celebrate your new-found freedom, and boy was this environment toxic. You found yourself accepting drinks your close friends handed you, dancing with people you had never met before, you were a mess. But it was a part of the thrill. Yes, you were a hardworking student, but that doesn’t mean you don’t know how to loosen up and have fun.

You felt a pair of hands on your waist, assuming it was Jungkook, you turned around, before realizing that it wasn’t him, but some random older man that happened to be invited to the party as well. It was surprising, you figured that one of the girls would’ve brought a few of her, friends to the party, thinking it would be cool, or help her with a reputation that would no longer matter after this night. The male reeked of alcohol, but you were sure everyone did too. He has a look on his face that scared you, but you couldn’t move to get away, the whole place was crowded.

“Say, what’s a beauty like you doing out here? I’m sure someone like you would surely have a boyfri-” The stranger was cut off by a voice you could identify from miles away.

“Actually, she does have one, and I’d appreciate it if you don’t touch her,” Jungkook said, a hint of anger in his voice. He roughly grabbed your wrist, before dragging you away from the dance floor and into an empty room, that was way too clean for you to believe, and closing the door.

“What do you think you’re doing?! What if I was wasn’t there to help you get out?” He exclaimed, worrying thoughts coursing through his head, eyes widening at the mere idea of a stranger all over you. You stood still, eyes open like a deer caught in headlights. “I-I had no idea….” was all you could say, your fingers fidgeting with the bottom of your dress that was a little too tight and a little too short of Jungkook’s liking. Moments ago you were in danger and now you don’t know what will happen next. Jungkook stepped towards you, closing in the space that was quite large beforehand. You could feel his breath against your neck as your heart started racing. “Maybe I should claim you before someone else thinks otherwise.”

His arms swiftly moved you onto what you thought was a bed, before you could feel his plump lips meet yours. Of course you had kissed him before, but there was a different feel to this one. The others felt gentle, soft and caring, while this one was filled with passion and a hint of greed. It was rough, rushed, something you never experienced before. But you weren’t against it. Not one bit. He looked into your eyes, and you could see he was asking for permission to go further, so you gave him a quick nod and he, once again, smashed his lips against yours and wrapped his arms around you. You trusted him, you knew that he wouldn’t do something without having thought it through, but it hit you. You were both wasted, from drinking earlier that night, and you both weren’t in the best state of mind to be doing something so monumental, something that can affect the entire relationship you guys had built, but you found yourself getting addicted to the feeling he gave you when he peppered sloppy kisses on your skin, connecting the bottom of your lips to the top of your chest. The adrenaline flowed through your veins as his large hands made their way to the back of your dress, finding the zipper and pulling it down, agonizingly slow. Your mind was hazy, but you knew you wanted this, right?

Upon sliding out of the dress, your black lace undergarments were revealed, and you saw Jungkook lick his lips in lust as his eyes roamed over your entire body, taking you in. “You’re absolutely beautiful.” He said, before grabbing hold of your waist and pulling you in, instantly attaching his mouth to the newly exposed skin. Every word that escaped his mouth sounded like harsh, loud music, deafening in an artful way, a single whisper could make you melt like putty, and that’s what you were. Putty in his hands. His hands roamed whilst his mouth conquered you, every single crevice of your body was explored. One of his hands made its way towards the binding clasp of your bra and his skillful fingers opened it, releasing your chest from its confinement. On each side, he placed a kiss unlike the sloppy ones from before. It was softer, almost like he was scared to take things too rough. Before you knew it, a moan had escaped from your throat, bouncing through the room. It gave Jungkook a push, almost providing him the will to go on. He treasured every single sound you made, no mattered how embarrassed you were of them, he quickly grew to love it. Soon, you felt his fingers wrapping around the waistband of your panties. Each second that flew by you grew more impatient, but that wouldn’t make him go any faster. Once the dreadful thing was off, you felt the blood rushing to your cheeks, finding yourself completely bare and Jungkook fully clothed. Almost like he could read your mind, he lifted his shirt over his head and unbuckled his jeans, not yet taking them off.

Thoughts flowed through your mind, ranging from some that resembled the need coursing through your veins to some resembling blaring warning signs, telling you to stop before it gets too far to go back. Maybe it was the random drink you had when first arriving at the party. Maybe it was how tempting he looked, the lack of lighting illuminating his most prominent features. Maybe it was the fact that you knew that he felt the way he did. Lost in thought, you didn’t realize that Jungkook had stripped down to his briefs, and his gaze was fixated on your uneasy expression. No words were said, but your eyes told him what he needed to know. That night, fireworks were lit, hearts were racing as you both stumbled into unknown territory, and that day marked the start of the relationship, one that was set up to last, one that was cherished so dearly and so deeply rooted in your very being. Your mind flourished with thoughts of a future together, how each moment would hold more meaning. You fell asleep in his embrace, his arms wrapped around your waist, his steady breathing lulling you to sleep.

What you failed to notice was the strong smell of alcohol laced in it. Pungent. You were stuck on cloud nine, but Jungkook’s mind was filled with regret.

The moment you woke up, you knew something was wrong. Surrounding you was an unfamiliar room, and beside you was an empty space. Your heart drops, your hair standing on its end. ‘No…” you thought. “Jungkook?” you call out, but there was no reply. Frantic, you put on your clothes with fast hands, calling out for Jungkook when you could catch your breath. You feel the tears welling in your eyes, your heart pounding out of your chest. “JUNGKOOK!” you exclaim, one last time, before falling to your knees and letting the tears flow down your cheeks. You didn’t understand. Why did he leave? Did he not feel what you did? Did you not deserve an answer? Did you not mean something to him?

Your train of thought was broken by the sound of a doorknob creaking, and you look up, holding your breath. You wanted Jungkook to come through the door, you wanted him to tell you to calm down and that you were worried over nothing. You wanted your boyfriend to walk through the door, but instead, you were greeted by some frat boy that had his shirt on backward. The room fell silent, you were struggling to contain your sobs. The silence was broken as you turn to ask the boy a question, despite the fact that you’ve never seen him before. “Have you seen Jungkook?”. His face contorts in confusion before his eyes widen in realization.

“He left last night.”

He had broken his promise.

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