#uh hes fun to draw.... i just wanna scribble his ghost form for a while ajdjhfajjgfajafjkfkla | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

happyandticklish · 3 years

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Wake Up Call

Notes: For the anon request. I know the time in which I’m accomplishing some of these fics is taking longer, which is mostly due to needing to do life stuff along with this, but I still have a lot of fun writing them! Hope you enjoy~

Summary: Sometimes Nico has a hard time getting up in the morning, but Will has just the thing to help.

Warm sunlight filtered through his vision, making the boy squint his eyes in vague irritation. The lull of sleep tugged at him, and Nico groaned, turning around to hide his face in his boyfriend’s chest. He wondered what time it was. Whatever the answer, certainly too early to be awake. He wrapped his arms around the other, tugging him closer as he allowed unconsciousness to drag him under once more.

“Hey there,” a voice whispered into his hair, followed by a gentle kiss. “How’d you sleep?”

“Still trying to,” Nico grumbled in response, the effort of forming the words already too much for his jumbled mind. Waking up next to Will was becoming a more and more common occurrence—but really, could you blame Nico when the former happened to be the most comfortable pillow in the whole camp? “What time is it?”

Nico felt Will shift against him as he checked the clock on the wall. Vaguely, Nico assessed that the two were curled up in one of the many cots in the infirmary. He wasn’t sure entirely how they had got there, but he was certain it was a location they were not supposed to be in.

“Eh… seven,” Will replied, squinting a bit at the numbers.

“Seven?!” Nico exclaimed, his words ringing with disgust. “And you woke me up why exactly?”

“Oh, so you wanna be the one to explain to Chiron why the two of us were in here?” Will asked, arching an eyebrow at the other.

“You’re a doctor,” Nico pointed out, his words mumbled as he attempted to put himself back in the peaceful state he had been in before. “It’s an infirmary. What’s the problem?”

“The ‘problem’ is that I’m not supposed to be here overnight, and definitely not with a child of Hades in tow.”

“Mmm.”

Will sighed resignedly as he took in the other, the latter of which was clearly holding no intentions of moving. Seven was too late already. Technically, the others should be showing up around now, but his cabin had a habit of arriving late to opening time. He glanced anxiously towards the door, and then back down at his dozing boyfriend. However, as he did so he took in the way his shirt had rucked up in the fitful shifting of the night, revealing a pale sliver of his stomach. With his arms wrapped around Will’s neck and his eyes shut, he was entirely vulnerable to the idea formulating in Will’s mind.

“Nico~” he sing-songed, his hand drifting slowly down to his sides from where it had rested on the other’s back. “I really think you should get up now.”

Nico grunted, hardly taking in his words in his hazy state of mind.

Will grinned, almost pleased that the other had left him with such an open oppurtunity. “Alright then. But just remember, what happens next is on you.”

Nico twitched when fingers drew lightly up his side, pushing his shirt further up. A small smile slid onto his features as the tracing turned into light scratching. “No,” he muttered under his breath, though he declined to block the touch, choosing instead to merely hold onto the blond tighter. “Will…”

“Hmm?”

“C’mon—” Nico was squirming now, the light sensations making his already fuzzy brain turn to mush. “I-It—don’t!”

“You’re not making any sense, I’m afraid,” Will tsked, walking his fingers down to his stomach and scribbling lightly over the skin. “You’re gonna have to use complete sentences if you want me to understand what you’re saying.”

Nico squeezed his eyes shut, choked giggles escaping him despite himself. He attempted to draw his legs up, but with the way he was pressed against Will, curling up was impossible. That left his stomach entirely vulnerable to attack; it wasn’t his worst spot, but it was inexplicably unbearable in its own way.

“Wihihill!”

“Nico.”

Whatever Nico’s next sentence might have been, it broke off into frustrated garbling as the scribbling turned into playful poking.

“C’mon Nico,” Will teased, increasing the frenzy of the pokes so that Nico squeaked, his arm almost coming down to block him before grabbing around Will’s neck once more. “You know how to end this. You don’t want to get caught like this, do you?”

The idea of anyone seeing him in such a state was one that normally Nico would revolt at instantly. In the moment, however, he found that he was too tired to think about future consequences when the appeal of staying in the warm, comfortable bed, laughing into Will’s embrace, was as strong as it was. It had been a while since Will had pulled anything like this with the other, and Nico wasn’t rushing to end it so soon.

Will seemed to pick up on Nico’s reluctance, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, I see. Are you enjoying yourself, Mr. Ghost King? Hmm? Do you like being tickled, is that what it is?”

Warmth spread across Nico’s features, his stomach erupting into nerves at the revelation. It didn’t help that Will had slowed down the tickling in order for him to answer. “I—uh, no, of course not.” He fiddled with the back of Will’s shirt as he answered, still hiding his face in the hopes that it come somehow make the conversation easier to accomplish.

“Really?” Will’s words were laced with doubt. One hand rubbed up and down his side, a switch from the tickling from seconds before, in what was most likely meant to be a comforting gesture. Nico couldn’t help but twitch and tense every time his hand strayed too far from his path, however. “Because I couldn’t help but notice that you didn’t try to stop me once while I was tickling you.”

Nico froze, his heart racing as he was caught in his lie. He opened his mouth, struggling to find some way to get himself out of the situation he had led himself into. Before he could, however, Will interjected hurriedly.

“It’s okay if you do, you know,” Will reassured him. “You don’t have to be ashamed of it or anything. Lots of people like to be tickled—it’s a normal way of showing and receiving affection. Not to mention,” he added slowly, gently tweaking his side so that the other let out a startled yelp. “You’re awfully cute all giggly and squirmy like this.”

Nico’s blush worsened, but relief coursed through him with a cool assurance. After a moment of hesitating silence, he muttered, “I don’t… not like it. What, uh, what you were doing, I mean.”

Will blinked, having not expected such an honest answer. Gratitude zipped through him, spreading a pleasant warmth throughout his body. He knew the other probably wouldn’t have been as open with him if it wasn’t still the early hours of the morning, and for a moment, he worried that Nico was going to be angry with him for prompting the confession. But as he watched the curled in position of the other, his gaze focused intently anywhere but Will, he realized that Nico was more nervous than anything else, as though he were worried that Will was going to be the angry one.

“Hey.” Nico frowned as Will sat up, grasping his hand firmly. “Thanks. For telling me that is. It means a lot to me that you were willing to share this with me.”

“Oh,” Nico replied slowly, unfurling from his position with a confused stare. “Yeah, uh, no problem. I guess. You’re not… I mean, you don’t think it’s weird?”

“Nico, you summon people from the dead. Your chauffeur is a zombie. We live in a world of myth and monsters, and you still think that playing with the Pokémon versions of that is cooler. Liking tickling is the least weird thing about you.”

“Thanks,” Nico replied dryly.

Will pulled him closer, kissing the tips of his fingers lightly. Nico wrinkled his nose at the affectionate gesture, but there was a faint pink dusted across his features all the same. “This is just one more thing about you to love. And you know what the best part about all of this is?”

“What?” Nico asked hesitantly, trying not to focus on Will’s face, let alone his lips, inches away from his own.

“I get to do this whenever I want to!”

Hands were shoved suddenly under Nico’s shirt, climbing his sides and sneaking under his arms. Nico squawked, caught off guard by the sudden attack, and flailed back in an unsuccessful attempt to retreat. “Wihihill! Wahahahait!”

“No, I don’t think I will. I’m having too much fun, you see. Besides, I thought you said you liked it. Do you really want me to stop?”

Nico blushed, giggling uncontrollably as he attempted to tug Will’s arms away from his armpits. “Thahahat’s nahahahat fahahair!” he squeaked, falling backwards on the bed at last in an act of desperation. His hands were holding Will’s wrists loosely, tugging every once in a while unsuccessfully. His head was thrown back in a wild grin as carefree laughter spilled from his lips. Will’s heart swooped unsteadily in his chest, the sight of Nico like this first thing in the morning too much for him to handle. Consequently, he almost didn’t notice the voice ringing through the infirmary seconds later, echoing in the hall.

“Will? Are you in there? I thought I heard a noise.”

Will nearly gave himself whiplash from how fast he jerked back from the other, pulling Nico onto his chest on accident as the other’s hands were still locked about his arms. Nico’s face had dropped into that of cautious alarm, but there was still light dancing in his eyes, casting a content glow to his face.

Will cursed, letting out a disappointed groan. “Kayla. Dammit. We should probably get out of here so I don’t get you in trouble.”

“Me in trouble?” Nico exclaimed indignantly as Will pulled him off the bed, each of them struggling to kick the covers off of themselves. “Wasn’t it your idea to come here in the first—”

“Details, details,” Will interrupted quickly. “Now, do you want to get caught or not?”

Nico sighed, but followed him in a run as the two attempted to sneak out through the back doors.

In the end, Kayla ended up catching them and the two got put on Pegasus detail for the next two weeks. But Will decided it was all worth it, in the end, if it meant he got to hear the other’s laughter once more.

#tickle fic #solangelo #nico di angelo #will solace #pjo #hoo #trials of apollo #fanfiction #fic request #requests #tickling #percy jackson

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hoodoo12 · 4 years

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Chapter 9/15 SFW

Chapter 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8

@turtlepated @anyamercury @beetlewise-and-pennyjuice

Next morning, bright and early with the sunrise, she was back with a new book under her arm. She was eating a piece of toast, and shoved the last of the crust into her mouth as she entered. She wiped her lips with her thumb, and he was oddly ashamed that he watched that gesture with much interest.

"Oh! Do you want something to eat?" she asked by way of greeting, like she was a thoughtless hostess and this was a perfectly normal situation. "Do you need to eat?"

Beetlejuice, who had spent the rest of the night alone trying to understand why his thoughts had gone to different sexual scenarios he could engage in with her instead of a rage that should have been more appropriate, shook his head.

He'd sort through the thorny mess of his libido some other time, he had decided. Lisette was trying to figure him out; he would do the same to her. Time would tell who would win this stalemate.

"I can, but I don't," he replied. "It's been years since I had a cigarette, though. You got any?"

She looked surprised he answered her as if it were a real conversation, like they were buddies. Beetlejuice waited for a moment, then made a circling motion with one hand to indicate he was waiting for an expecting a response.

"Uh . . no. I don’t."

"Of fucking course you don’t. Nobody smokes anymore," he muttered, disappointed.

She tapped her forefinger on her chin for a moment, then left the room, leaving the door open.

He��d been left in isolation again so quickly? Beetlejuice once again heard her rummaging through the kitchen, then there was silence. After minutes passed, she came back up the stairs. The treads and the floorboards in the hallway creaked with each footstep, and then she was back in the bedroom with him. She was holding something, and in the crook of her arm was one of the stainless steel canisters from under the cabinets in the kitchen.

“I don’t have any cigarettes,” she told him again, sounding apologetic. “Can you roll your own?”

Beetlejuice cocked his head in confusion. She held out her hands; in one was a box of stick matches, in the other, a cardboard box of rolling papers. She opened the small canister to show him dried, shredded leaves inside. The faint scent of tobacco wafted to him.

“You don’t have cigarettes but you have the stuff to make cigarettes?” he asked drily. Lisette shrugged. “The tobacco can be used in different rituals. The matches are just matches. The rolling paper . . . well, I didn’t buy it for tobacco, specifically.”

Despite himself, Beetlejuice laughed. “You’ve got a stolen forbidden book, you’ve captured me, and you’re embarrassed to say out loud you smoke weed?”

A blush crept over her cheeks and she laughed too. “Yeah. I guess. Marijuana is legal in Connecticut for medical purposes, but not just for fun. Would you prefer that instead of tobacco?”

The thought of a joint instead of a cigarette was tempting; it’d been even longer since he’d taken a hit than simply had a smoke. It would be simple and innocent enough to light one up, and offer her a toke, like people do, and maybe she’d accidently break the barrier . . .

“You wanna join me?” Beetlejuice asked.

Lisette shook her head. “No thanks. Too early in the day for me.”

He hid his disappointment and filed that information away for later. “Cigarette it is, then.”

With no further hesitation, Lisette tossed him the supplies one at a time, the canister, then the small box of rolling papers. As for the matches, she removed all but one from the box before passing it along. Each of them passed over the chalk inscriptions with no problem, which was interesting tidbit of information: things could enter the circle, he just couldn’t leave. Beetlejuice caught them all, and occupied himself with the task of making his own cigarette.

It had been a while since he had, so it took a little time for the proper technique to come back to him. As he struggled a bit getting the paper tight enough around the tobacco, he groused, “If you’re used to rolling joints, why didn’t you just make a cigarette for me and throw that into this prison?”

Lisette looked a little surprised, as if that hadn't occurred to her, but answered, “You didn’t ask!”

He gave her a look that conveyed his exact thoughts on that amount of pettiness, then licked the free edge of the paper standing upright between his fingers and pressed it down. It was slightly looser than he would have liked and it had a shitty crutch he made out of the thin cardboard he found in the box of rolling papers instead of a real filter, but a smoke after who knows how many years was a treat anyway. Beetlejuice lit the match by flicking it against his thumbnail, and once the end of the cigarette was going, stuck it in his mouth. His first inhale of a corporeal cigarette in ages was bitter and hot.

It was great.

Beetlejuice let himself be lost in the physical act of smoking for a moment. It suddenly hit him that not only had this breather said his name twice, drawing him three-quarters into the living world, but whatever arcane techinque she used to keep him in this circle made that three-quarters last longer than it ever had before. This situation wasn’t perfect, but that was a nice little bonus.

Lisette sat quietly with her skirt hiked up passed her knees. Idly he wondered if she was wearing any panties. Beetlejuice kept a lungful of smoke in longer than would be comfortable, then let it out in a stream that twisted a little like a Sandworm. That trick usually made a breather nervous, since it looked a little alive, but the woman near the wall didn’t react to it.

Instead, she went back to her books, flipping through pages, leaving them open on the floor, writing notes in her journal, and cross-referencing things. Beetlejuice watched her research and wondered to himself what exactly she was thinking.

After his cigarette was gone and she was still absorbed in her books, he asked,

“Figured anything out yet?”

She glanced up at him with an annoyed expression pinching her face. “No.”

He scooted along the floor to be closer to her. The chalk circle she’d drawn was four inches wide, so with her leaning against the wall by the door, her knees were less than a foot away from him. He could reach out and grab her, if this barrier was down.

Beetlejuice craned his head to try and read the books upside down.

“Is that a Bible?” “Yes,” she replied, distracted, as she continued to scribble.

“Would I be able to touch it?”

She finally looked up, genuinely confused. “What the hell does that mean?”

He nodded towards the other books. “I couldn’t quite touch those two. Earlier. When I, uh, wrecked your room.”

Lisette stared at him blankly for a moment before she understood. “Oh. Right! They have wards on them to prevent non-human or non-living beings from interacting with them. Safety precautions, you know. Of course, that doesn’t really help me narrow down ghost versus demon in your case . . .”

She let her voice trail off, then went back to the Bible she’d been perusing. Beetlejuice let her have a few more moments, then just as she was settling back into her work, he interrupted.

“Which version of the Bible do you have? Is it both Old and New Testament? Do you have a Qur’an? The Torah? The Codex Seraphinianus? The Voynich Manuscript?”

Lisette returned the look he’d given her earlier: irked. “Why are you asking?”

He shrugged. “Just wondering exactly what you’re using to try and decipher the riddle wrapped in an enigma that is me.”

“With a head that big I’m surprised you made it through the doorframe into this room,” she replied drily. “Of course, you were going full steam. All because I said your name. Interesting.”

Beetlejuice scowled a little, hating to be reminded how desperate he’d been. He let silence fill the room for a few beats. She broke the quiet before he did this time.

“You mentioned Al Azif. Not many other texts have information about shoggoths in them. Have you read it? Did you just randomly pick a name from the book? What’s the connection between it, them, and you?”

“Maybe Alhazred named shoggoths after me,” Beetlejuice suggested.

That made her furrow her brow for a moment, but eventually she shook her head. “No, I only know one account of a shoggoth taking human form.” Even though his lie was dismissed, he saw by the expression on her face some new thought had come to her. Her eyes found his, and excited, she asked, “Were you there when Alhazred wrote it?”

“Maybe,” Beetlejuice hedged. He couldn’t decide if letting her know his age would be a problem.

“Interesting . . .” Lisette repeated, and dropped her eyes back to her journal to write a note. Her mouth moved a little as she did, and it was vaguely similar to the times he saw her praying.

“So you’re pretty devoted, huh?”

Confusion and harder thinking looked the same on her face. “What?”

“You pray a lot. Devoted Catholic, right?” he guessed. Two could play at taking stabs at the other’s truths.

“My grandmother was Catholic, but I wasn’t raised anything,” Lisette admitted.

“Then what are you praying?”

“What? I’m not praying, I’m just talking to myself!”

For some reason, that admission made Beetlejuice laugh out loud. “Jesus. I’ve been alone for forever it seems, and even I don’t do that!”

Lisette looked slightly offended, which made him laugh harder.

“Whatever,” she told him, but it was good to see something needled her.

tbc

#beetlejuice #betelguese #writing #fanfiction #movie beetlejuice #musical beetlejuice

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starshua · 7 years

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k.sy ❥ a little push

soonyoung x reader

gif; mine

word count; 2.1k

synopsis; highschool!au, soonyoung and y/n just need a little push. based off of prompt 37, “can i kiss you?”

✎ listen,,,i know this is late but happy birthday to seventeen’s squishy dance leader ily soonyoung also the gif doesn’t exactly match up with the story bc i said he has dark hair but shhh

A gentle breeze drifted through the air, slowly dragging its incorporeal essence through the vivid leaves decorating the oak tree that overshadowed everything in sight. The individual blades shook as the wind strayed past the curtains of your classroom to softly caress your visage. The students around you shuddered at the sudden coldness, but you merely trained your gaze on the raven locks in front of you. Swallowing, you resisted the urge to run your fingertips through the silky strands just inches from your face.

No, you told yourself as you busied your restless hands with doodling, praying that decorating the blank page laid out in front of you would calm your restive digits. The boy that occupied your thoughts slumped in his chair, effortlessly snatching your attention from your drawings and stilling your fist. He hurriedly scribbled something on a sticky note and pressed it to your desk, breathing a sigh of relief when the teacher kept his eyes on the whiteboard. Quickly, you reached for the slip of paper and placed it in your notebook.

“Wanna sneak up onto the roof after school?” it read. You scrunched your eyebrows and peered over at him, judging that he was in earnest from the way that he twirled his pen around in his grasp, a nervous habit that you would often catch him doing when he would ask you to do strange things with him. Letting out a resigned puff of air, you scrawled out a reply and stuck it onto his back, patting it a few extra times just for the fun of it. He released a poorly contained laugh into the back of his hand and reached to grab it as soon as the teacher was distracted.

“Sure, Soonyoung. Any specific reason?” it asked. A bright smile graced his face, lighting up his features and pushing up his cheeks in that way you loved to tease him for. He snuck a quick look at you and shook his head in response. You gave him a nod in acknowledgment and went on doodling little stars.

A specific reason, huh? he mused. While Soonyoung did enjoy his odd adventures, this little excursion was more for you than for him. Sure, he would get a thrill out of evading the teachers and lounging in a place where students were forbidden, but in truth, he just wanted to see that look on your face. He wanted to see the joy on your face—the glee that would flood your cheeks with pink and make your eyes shine like stars against the night sky—as you gasped at the breathtaking view overlooking the little city that the two of you shared.

Of course, there was no way in hell he would ever say that out loud.

“Soonyoung, shut up!” you hissed at the boy crouching at your side. “Do you wanna get caught?” He attempted to stifle his chuckling as you both rounded the corner, barely evading the sight of a grumpy history teacher.

“Well, no, obviously. I just want to have a bit of fun, y/n. Is that so much to ask?” he whispered, his signature smirk displaying his unyielding confidence and accentuating his sly orbs. You rolled your eyes at him and grabbed his wrist, dragging him through the hall and up the stairwell before any staff could catch you. He clutched at your arm and kept pace with you until you both stopped, panting and exhilarated, in front of the locked door to the roof. Chuckling, Soonyoung bent down and fished around in his pocket, finally bringing out a single bobby pin.

“...Did you steal that from me?” you asked as he began picking the lock. He let out a high-pitched laugh and licked his lips, not even sparing a moment to tear his gaze away from the doorknob.

“Maybe?” he said, his tone betraying his otherwise vague insinuation. You smacked him lightly on the head, enjoying the small Hey! that escaped his throat.

“C’mon, you must have over a hundred of those things. Do you really need this one?” he inquired. In his defense, he wasn’t entirely incorrect. You did own way too many bobby pins, especially considering they were more for visitors in your home than for yourself. It wasn’t the missing pin that you were flustered about, however.

“When did you even take that?” you asked him incredulously. He shrugged and raked a hand through his hair while maintaining the movements of his hand against the lock.

“Uh, remember when I came over to work on that science project like two weeks ago? It was when I told you all about my friend Minghao wanting to break into this weird room in his house,” he explained, pausing to gasp when the locked clicked. Your ears perked up at the sound and you trained your sight on Soonyoung as he stood and threw the door open.

“Wait, you took it to break into his—whoa,” you said, a bewildered grin pushing its way onto your face. You stepped out onto the roof and gaped at the sight before you. The view of the city was wondrous—each building stood proud and tall, the beautiful shine of each edifice reflecting off of the glittering river near the street that you and Soonyoung resided on. The setting sun cast a golden glow on your surroundings, filling the world with a layer of honey and warmth. The air itself seemed to shimmer around your starstruck form as you twirled around to look at Soonyoung. He smiled softly and stepped toward you with an odd look in his eye that you couldn’t quite place.

“So...you like it up here?” he inquired. You let out a breathy laugh and beamed at him, loving the way the breeze tussled his hair. He met your gaze ardently, his expression bringing heat to your cheeks.

“Are you kidding? I love it up here,” you told him happily. He grinned widely and let you take his hand as you led him to the perimeter of the roof. Placing your hands on the ledge, you took in a breath and closed your eyes, allowing the breeze to play with your hair and envelop you in its chilly grasp.

Soonyoung observed the relaxed slump of your shoulders and the swell of your chest as you breathed in the brisk air, memorizing the blissful curve of your lips and the feeling of your fingertips ghosting over the back of his hand. He was beyond enamored with you—he was positively enchanted. You were beautiful, otherworldly so, and you made his heart flutter with every look, every breath, every word.

The two of you stood in silence, too enraptured by the view to tarnish the ethereality by speaking. After a few moments of fiddling with Soonyoung’s fingers, you opened your eyes and examined the world in front of you. The sky had gotten darker, the rich flaxen having melded to a burnt titian. You looked to the courtyard down below and watched the remaining students gradually trickle through the school gates, each one of them appearing equal parts exhausted and content. You sighed and squeezed Soonyoung’s hand, his dazed look abruptly changing to a curious stare as you captured his attention.

“I think we should go home, don’t you?” you asked, your voice tender and sweet. The boy nodded slowly and followed you as you led him down the steps, his hand never leaving yours. The rooftop door clicked shut behind you, locking away the wonderland that you and Soonyoung had discovered. Its effects continued to linger on your adolescent frames, keeping your eyelids droopy and shoulders limp.

Soon your thoughts returned to the world that you would have to face—more accurately, to the stack of homework that you would likely have to assist your companion in completing—and your stupor dissipated into the air as smoothly as it had descended upon you. Soonyoung’s thoughts, however, remained entirely devoted to you. He recalled the countless times his friends had encouraged him to confess, Jihoon’s cranky tone and Seokmin’s sincere advice bringing a smile to his cheeks.

“You just need a little push,” his friends had told him, finishing their encouragement with a playful shove. Truth be told, Soonyoung would often find himself dwelling on that particular advice. There had been countless times when his self-control had worn thin and his feelings had nearly thin, and his feelings had nearly leaped from the tip of his tongue, but he had always managed to hold himself back.

Being so absorbed in his recollections, Soonyoung wasn’t even aware that his steps had slowed to a halt. You stalled your movements and turned to rest your eyes upon his countenance once again, curiously taking note of the nervous bobbing of his Adam’s apple.

“Soonyoung?” He met your gaze anxiously and gripped your hand just a bit tighter. What’s gotten into him? you wondered. He opened his mouth to speak, but not a sound could escape his lips before a voice called out from behind you.

“GO FOR IT SOONYOUNG!” someone shouted. Bewildered, you turned to see Seungkwan staring at the two of you with wide, glittering eyes. You turned back to Soonyoung and released a light laugh at his friend’s silly antics.

“Go for what?” you asked, refusing to get your hopes up.

There’s no way Soonyoung likes me...right? you wondered disbelievingly. You had spent your entire freshman year convincing yourself to ignore the little glances that he would throw your way, the frequent ghosting of his fingers across your skin, the dazzling grin that would light up his visage whenever he saw your face. You told yourself that it was just your imagination, that your ridiculous crush on him was making you think silly things.

You couldn’t have been more wrong, of course. Soonyoung had been infatuated with you since your days as middle schoolers, back when you were still growing into yourselves and exploring your untouched passions.

A little push, huh? he mused as he gazed at your expectant face. That was more like an awkward shove.

Soonyoung’s eyelashes fluttered upon his cheeks, his blinking gradually snapping him out of his thoughts. He rubbed circles on the back of your hand and lifted his unoccupied palm to your cheek. Slowly, he leaned closer to you, his breath gently ghosting against your lips.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispered. You blinked a few times in surprise, not believing your ears and convincing yourself that the river below you had merely distorted his words. It was only when you took note of his firm, unwavering stare that it hit you—Soonyoung, your childhood friend and longtime crush, was just as enamored with you as you were with him.

“Yes,” you responded with a nod, your voice so delicate that he wondered if your words would shatter before him.

Tentatively, Soonyoung leaned forward and closed the distance between your faces, his palm steady against your face, his other hand never leaving the delicate tangle of your digits. The kiss was gentle and sweet, too short to satiate the years of pent-up attraction but long enough to leave you with your toes curling and shivers shooting down your spine. Soonyoung pressed his forehead against yours and closed his eyes, basking in the infinitesimal distance between the two of you and finally breathing a sigh of relief.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for years now,” he admitted, his cheeks as pink as the sky that surrounded the setting sun. You giggled and placed your hand on top of the palm that cradled your face, unconsciously leaning into his touch.

“Me too,” you said breathlessly. Glancing up at him, you took note of the way his eyes shone as a shy grin slipped its way onto his visage. You cast him a coy smile and stepped backward, hoping that the cool breeze blowing above the river would ease the heat rising to your cheeks. Soonyoung ambled to your side and leaned against the edge of the bridge, his dreamy stare aimed toward the glistening aqua. The lucidity of the gloaming light bestowed an opalescent shine upon the stream below, its soothing waters calming the rapid beating of your heart.

Without a word, Soonyoung grasped your hand once again, his fingers immediately intertwining with yours. The two of you drifted down the street, easily slipping back into your routine and heading toward the neighborhood that the two of you shared.

Seungkwan watched the both of you meander hand in hand and smirked. He tapped his phone screen and laughed to himself, eagerly awaiting the replies of the eleven other boys in the group chat when they saw the video that he had taken of the long-awaited kiss.

“Soonyoung will kill me for this but...oh well,” he declared with a content smile. “It’ll be worth it.”

It was only when his phone buzzed a few minutes later that the boy felt the first inklings of fright in his heart.

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