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lordseochangbin · 4 years

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Beverly Hills- Han Jisung (Part One)

a/n: i didnt realize how much i loved writing fics until a couple weeks ago so we back at it again with our biaswrecker sksksksk

this fic is going to be drama-filled? not sure how to describe it but i’m getting a lot of inspiration from high school dramas so we’ll see LOL

Sweaty palms and sunburns cannot emphasize how bummed Jisung was about this weather. Living under a cave for three years and completely skipping high school did him good but now he's back in the city, knocking on the front door to his cousin's home with a glued smile on his face.

"Jisung!" Jeongin exclaimed, running down the stairs of their mansion home to swing open the door.

"Jeongin!!" Jisung could only laugh at the sights of his younger bro, pulling him into his arms.

"I missed you dude" he whispered into the younger boy's ear before his luggage could be pulled away from his arms.

"Let me help you out with that," Seungmin said, taking a whiff of Jisung's figure before scrunching his nose in disgust. "You need a shower before our mom comes home, she would not like to see you like this"

Jisung looks down at his dirty vans and rusty jeans, "What's wrong with this?" he asked the two boys before the two look at each other.

"We'll get you a new wardrobe, just please go take a shower"

"Alright, alright" Jisung complies, following the boys upstairs he stares at the lines of academic awards and medals."So how did you two punks graduate high school early?"

Seungmin and Jeongin eye each other before turning around to show him their diploma. "Just with our wits" Seungmin winked

"Well your wits got me to come back to school, your mom literally dragged me here" Jisung groaned, flopping onto the bed that used to be his.

"She really wants you to graduate Jisung, can't you do just that? Especially after your parents.." Jeongin's voice turned into a whisper as Jisung eyed him across the room.

"Let's not bring them up Jeongin, I swear if Auntie brings them up I'm going to ignore her"

"Sorry I just-"

"It's fine Jeongin" Jisung interrupted before stuffing his face into the familiar pillow.

Let's get things straight.

Here at Beverly there's a few different families. We have the Bang Family, consisting of son and daughter Chan and Claire. Their family owns almost all the clubs in LA. Next we have the Lee's, Felix and Minho are nothing alike however, Felix being the school's outcast and Minho being a popular dancer. Yang and Kim's are united- the bond between the two families inseparable.

Oh, did I not mention Beverly Hills' most popular rich boy? That would be Hwang Hyunjin. The Hwang's along with the Seo's claim all the hotel businesses of Southern Cali, and their families are often known for being involved in rough politics.

Last, but definitely not least, we have the Stay family. You're the only daughter, sister having passed away at a young age. Because of this, you carry the legacy of your own last name. Oof, the pressures of an asian family. But nothing stops you from a good party, especially the big "Back to school" pool party that Chan and Claire are throwing tonight.

"Is this cute?" Claire asks, taking a pretty white swimsuit from the hangers to your attention.

You take a glimpse at it before looking away, "Too white, you'll look like that statue of David when the museum is closed"

Claire rolls her eyes, throwing the suit in the cart. "I don't have a dick y/n, and Michelangelo definitely is not cute enough to mold my curves"

"As if you have any" You retort with a chuckle before being slapped in the back by Claire's Louie Vuitton. "Shut up!!"

You could only laugh as she walks away, shaking her ass in the air as you go for the simple yellow swimsuit. Checking the price tag, you see three digits and decide to put it back before taking it in your hands again.

"Mom and dad will kill me... it's okay" You tell yourself before heading off to the cashier's.

Jisung mutters a quick "Leave me alone" before throwing the comforter over himself again. Finally, the comforter is stripped away from his bed as Jeongin screams in shock.

"Jisung!! You sleep naked?! Disgusting!!" Jeongin exclaims, throwing the blanket back on him.

Seungmin pats Jeongin's shoulder in embarrassment before waking Jisung up. "Get up, The Bang's are having a party tonight and we've been invited. It'll be the perfect chance to get new friends"

Jisung rolls his eyes at Seungmin's proposal, "Friends aren't shit Seungmin, they're just your friend during high school and when it's over they forget your name."

"Oh come on Jisung!! You can't be lonely forever!" Jeongin pouts, ticking Jisung's sleepy figure before Seungmin could add, "Well Jeongin and I are going, so I guess you're going to be alone with my mom"

Jisung is quick to jump out of bed and puts on the nearest pair of shorts before wrapping his arms around the two boys shoulders, "Okay so where exactly is this party?!"

The booming music makes the whole neighborhood shake and sounds of chit-chat and the small of alcohol fill the air. Girls fill the pool with floaties of all kinds and drinks at every table.

"W-wait. You guys meant a real party?! I thought you geeks only went to chess comps and bingo clubs" Jisung said, "T-there's real people here. Ew."

Seungmin drags Jisung inside the crowded living room, "You clearly aren't ready for Beverly Hills High School Jisung, and that's why you need to be here”

"I'll get us some drinks, go find some open space for us Jisung" Jeongin says, running off with Seungmin.

Jisung winces at the people surrounding him, turning to the hallway before being greeted by a stumbling girl in a white swimsuit.

"Oh, oh hi! You must be new here, I'm C-claire" Claire grabs Jisung's shoulders, a burp leaving her lips before she collapses onto him.

"Woah- woah okay, okay Claire take it easy" Jisung says, grabbing her waist as he looks for the nearest bedroom. Walking further down the hall, Jisung hears a few voices and hopes to drop the drunken figure into the hands of some other people.

"Look Hyunjin! I've told you so many times, we just don't work out together" You exclaim, trying to push Hyunjin off you as he continues to suck on your neck. You fail to get his weight off him as he cages you against the bed, his plump lips making all sorts of blues and purples on your skin as you try to kick him off.

"Come on y/n..." Hyunjin whispers into the crook of your neck, "We can make this work you know?" Your calls for help are muted by the loud music playing outside but you know with enough resent you can get him to stop.

"Hyunjin, stop! It's over" You continue, trying to wiggle your way out of his grasp. Well aware of how much he chugged before, you tried to work with his intoxicated self but it didn't seem to be working.

Jisung presses his ear against the door, realizing the situation as he kicks open the door. "Hey!"

Hyunjin quickly turns around, getting off the bed. "Um, hello?" Hyunjin replies sarcastically.

Jisung is left without words the second he lays eyes on you, you're beautiful. Light beaming on your figure from a nearby window, the sunlight is casted upon you. He can’t even blink, the sight is too worthy to lose even for a second. Left breathless in the middle of the bed, you thank the lords above that some cute guy came to save the day before noticing your best friend in his hands.

"Holy shit!" You run up to Jisung and grab your best friend.

"Is she okay?" Hyunjin says, picking her up and laying her on the bed. You sniff her hair before nodding your head.

"She's drunk. I'm so sorry about that.." You turn around to see the boy in a simple white tee, shorts and a Ralph Lauren bucket hat before asking, "what's your name?"

Jisung's eyes are fixated on the floor before realizing you were talking to him. "Oh- me? Jisung" he smiles.You smile at the way his cheeks puff up when his teeth show, face resembling a cute squirrel as you shake his hand.

"Nice to meet you, Jisung" you say with a smile.

"So someone told me my sister was being dragged to the guest room?" Chan said, Minho and Changbin by his side as he glanced at his sibling.

"She drank a little too much," Hyunjin responded before Chan could send Hyunjin a nervous look. "Bro, the plan didn't work?" Chan mouthed to Hyunjin as he glanced at you, noticing your hand still tied to Jisung's.

"Dude, why are you still shaking her hand?" Changbin asked, turning everyone's attention to you and Jisung. You stare at Jisung for a moment, noticing the bit of nervousness in his eyes. Jisung's grasp on your hand tightens anxiously before you could smile at the guys, "That's because Jisung here, is my new... boyfriend!"

Minho nearly spat out his drink, "Your what?!"

"My new boyfriend" you repeated, "Now don't mind me, but I'm going to leave now.. with my new BOYFRIEND" you spat at Hyunjin's face before leaving.

"Bro, what the fuck just happened?" Chan asked Hyunjin, handing him his drink

"I-I think y/n is really calling it quits" Hyunjin stutters, lying against the wall as the guys join him.

"Don't worry Hyunjin, y/n is always like this.. I’m sure this “Jisung” kid will leave if we teach him a lesson" Minho said, patting his shoulder.

You're running to the backyard with Jisung before he could stop you, panting out of breath. Sitting down at a nearby bench, you gesture at Jisung to sit next to you before letting go of his hand.

"I'm really sorry about dragging you into that, I just needed to get out of there" You apologize

"That's alright... but just like, did you call me your..?"

"Boyfriend." Jisung's eyes pop off at the validation.

"Seriously?" Jisung points a finger at himself in shock, "Me??"

"Yes you idiot" You reply with a chuckle, pushing his hand away.

"I know you're new, maybe we can be friends" Smiling at Jisung's shocked expression you notice a figure resting on the edge of the garden.

"Felix!!" You call out, noticed the freckled boy turn around at your voice.

"Y/N!!" He replies, running over to you guys.

"Jisung, this is Felix. I think he'd be the perfect friend for you here." Jisung looks at Felix before looking back at you again, "Are you not staying?"

You stand up before spotting Chan and Minho asking people for your whereabouts.

"Not for now, I need to fix a mess I started, it was nice meeting you though!" You exclaim, running inside to the two guys.

"Don't mind her, y/n is always involved in some sort of drama" Felix says

"Seriously? Why would nice girls like her get involved in that kind of stuff?" Jisung asks, scratching his neck in curiousness. "Whew, Jisung" Felix says, knowing he has a lot to learn.

"Welcome to Beverly Hills High School."

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littlemissvincentvega · 3 years

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Head Cannons First Dates with the Dogs and Eddie

Brown:

* You met him when he approached you at an Indy movie viewing in your town. You were getting Mike and Ike’s and he totally interrupts your transaction with the clerk by asking you your favorite flavors. Although a little annoyed you think he is adorable. You indulge and tell him your favorites and he tells you the entire history of the candy. After the movie he finds you and asks if you want to get a late night snack to discuss the film.

* You both go to a dessert bar around the corner. Although you offer to share a piece of pie, you know to be romantic he rejects the requests and orders his usual brownie with whipped cream.

* He goes on and on about the cinematography and plot.

* You add your own opinions and he is intrigued and fascinated

* You end up talking until closing.

* He walks you back to your car and offers to follow you home to make sure you get In safely.

* You decline although you didn’t think it was weird.

* He calls you the next day to chat and ask you out again

Mr. Pink

* you meet Mr. Pink in the wine shop in your neighborhood. He saw you before you noticed him. He kinda followed you around the store but tries to not make himself seem obvious or weird.

* You pick up a bottle of red to inspect. He peers over your shoulder “that one is kinda overpriced for what you get. If you’re looking for a full bodied red I would recommend this one.” As he hands you another bottle of red wine.

* You thank him with a smile. He barely gets the words out “you’re welcome”. He of course scurries away to check out the alcohol accessories.

* After you check out he is super nervous but trying to keep it together. “ hey I don’t normally do this but I would regret this for years if I didnt, but I was wondering if maybe I can take you out sometime.” Of course you say yes because he is super adorable.

* The day of the date you’re low key super excited. The appointment you had before your date canceled so you could meet earlier. You call him to see if he wanted to get together an hour earlier but when you call he assumes youre cancelling. “Oh I figured this would happen, really don’t feel bad... oh earlier?? Yeah sure. I’m free.”

* He takes you to a low key jazz lounge. You are wearing a tight fitting black slip dress. When he sees you his eyes get big and his jaw drops. “ wow you look incredible” he says as he greets you. You lean to kiss his cheek.

* Although he is trying his best to stay calm ans confident, he def is having a hard time staying focused on the music. Halfway through the evening you reach for his hand and ask if he wants to dance, the band is playing “In a Sentimental Mood”.

* He is super embarrassed about his dance moves so he groans and reluctantly gets up.

* You slow dance and put your head on his chest, his heart is racing!!!!

* He suggest going back to his house for more wine and to show off his record collection.

* You listen to a few records, totally impressed by the wine and music. Since you are both a little tipsy, you take an Uber home.

* He walks you to the car and you give him a soft kiss on the lips. Of course when you pull away his eyes are still closed and almost like he is in a trance.

* He text you good night and he hopes to see you again soon.

Mr. White:

* You meet white at a mutual friends birthday party in their backyard. You’re helping to bring out drinks and you catch him looking at you from across the yard. He is looking a little too long so you smile and give him your innocent big doe eyes.

* Throughout the afternoon you steal glances at each other. But never actually speaking. You of course are tucking your hair behind your ears and flirting from a distance.

* When the party is winding down and you’re bringing a few glasses inside, he saunters in a few feet after you. Causal but determined.

* “Can I help you with anything?” You turn around slowly and smile. “No, I’m practically done. Is there anything I can help you with?” You ask in a very seductive tone as you take a few steps toward him. Larry raises his brows and looks around. “ well since you’re offering... Could you explain to me who decides to have a garden party on the hottest day of the year?” You both laugh and gaze at each other. “I’m Larry.” “I’m y/n” Larry says “I’m about to head out but I would love to spend more time with you and get to know you. Would I be able to give you my information?” You smile and take his number.

* You wait a few days before you call him. When he answers he tries to hide his excitement when he finds out it’s you. “Oh hey Y/N I didn’t think you would call. It’s good to hear from you.” During your conversation he finds out you’ve never been to a baseball game.

* Of course your first date is to a brewers v dodgers game. He buys everything and is shocked to find out you’re a vegan. He finds a stand that has vegan options and buys whatever you want. Larry spends the game explaining the rules in a patient and calm way. He finds little ways to touch your hand and makes jokes to make you laugh. He asks questions about you throughout the game truly wanting to know more about you.

* At the 7th inning stretch he puts his arm around your waist to pull you closer as you watch the highlight reel. He tells you that he is having a really great time. You are as well.

* You of course buy a dodgers hat, Larry refuses to make the purchase since he is a Brewers fan.

* At the end of the game you walk around the stadium a bit laughing and talking before getting kicked out. Larry drives you home. He drives a classic muscle car (duh).

* He opens the door for you and let’s you out. He grabs your hands and pulls you into him as he leans against the hood of his car. His muscles are very defined through his shirt. He holds your hips into him as you both continue to talk for a few mins.

* Your eyes lock and you lean into him and make out passionately. LArry walks you to your door, holding hands slowly walking to the door . He kisses you again and is respectful to not ask to come in although you would have said yes.

* When you’re done getting ready for bed you call him to make sure he got in safely, “y/n I was just about to pick up the phone to call you, tonight was wonderful. I’d love to take out again.” You agree and make a baseball reference. “Aw sexy, smart, and a fast learner... I need to be careful. Sweetheart I would love to see you sometime this week. Let me know when you’re free.” Your heart melts and you set up a time.

Mr Orange.

* you know he pretends to be cocky AF and it kind of turned you off at first.

* You meet him through Holloway who is dating your best friend. Holloway promises he is a nice guy and a great cop. Evidently he has seen photos of you on social media and practically begged for an introduction.

* Holloway has a viewing party for a high profile boxing match, of course he invites you (even though you don’t care about the sports), Orange, a few cops from the precinct, and other friends.

* Holloway introduces you to Orange. Orange tries to play it super cool to the point where he comes off as nonchalant, uninterested and arrogant. The moment you shack his hand he says nice to meet you and walks away to a fellow officer across the room. You look at Holloway and look at orange who is involved in a completely different conversation now, like “what was that?” Throughout the rounds Orange is cheering and jeering on and taunting the guys during the under card, not paying attention to you at all. Holloway pulls him aside before the headliner, and asks him why he isnt making an attempt to talk to you. Orange says “man she is way too hot and way out of my league. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m not going to embarrass myself.” Holloway encourages him to at least to make small talk. Orange walks over to you with his hands in his jean pockets all shy. He asks if you’re enjoying the match and you lie and say yes. Of course you’re in the kitchen with the women laughing and not paying attention. Holloway enters the kitchen and joins his GF by you and orange to help lighten the mood. Orange is obviously out of his element. The final match is announced and you offer to watch it with him. During the Main card you sit next to him. He is too nervous to taunt anyone and sits quietly. A cop that Orange works with says “hey y/n needs to come around more often, I have never heard Freddy this quiet before.” Everyone erupts in laughter but Freddy turns beet red.

* Everyone leaves and Freddy Irish good byes without getting your information.

* Holloway’s girlfriend has to be the one to give you freddys number. You reluctantly call because why didn’t he at least say bye... and he picks up after the first ring.

* You meet him at the modern art museum, there is an exhibit on comics and anime. Freddy opens up and tells you all about the artwork and his love for comics.

* Half way through Freddy has to go to the bathroom. As he washes his hands he reminds himself he is super cool and he is the Barretta. He convinces himself you like him and you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t.

* At the end of the exhibit Freddy is nervously chatting about how he didn’t expect you to come and how stoked he was, while he is rambling you kiss him to shut him up. He is stunned 😍.

* When you get home, Freddy immediately calls you. Some classicSpeed Racer movie is on to put on a movie channel and he thinks you’d like it. You get into jammies and stay on the phone and watch it with him. He is super excited as you both watch the movie over the phone ans chat.

* When you start getting tired, Freddy asks if you want to grab coffee in the morning before you start your day. You of course say yes.

Nice Guy Eddie.

* you meet Eddie at a dive bar after work while you’re getting drinks with coworkers.

* Eddie asks if you want to play pool. You say you don’t really play often but sure. He teaches you the basics and then challenges you to a match, “if you win Your next round is on me.” You ask what if he wins since that’s more likely... “ you have to let me take you out this Friday.” He says with a grin. “It’s a win win.” While playing you ask for extra help with Eddie standing behind you pressed against you with his hands on yours directing you softly on how to shoot the pool stick . Eddie wins the match and still buys you your next round.

* On Friday Eddie picks you up and let’s you pick the music. He takes you to a very nice Italian restaurant with white table clothes and candle lights. He hold your hand across the table and speaks low and softly to you. You’re literally melting.

* You can tell he is a big deal the way he carries himself and the way the staff responds to him.

* After dinner you hold hands walking around the busy neighborhood. Eddie stops you in front of a lit fountain and cups our cheeks in his hands. He kisses you softly on the lips. Eyes closed still smile and you gaze into his eyes. He kisses you again as you melt into him.

* Eddie takes you back home and you proceed to make out with him playing Sinatra and candles offering the only light

* Before things get too far you tell him he should go. He doesn’t Protest but is obviously a little disappointed. He is the type that gets everything he wants so you have to hold back some.

* He calls you a few days later. He would have called sooner but he got busy with a job.

* You suggest your next date be he takes you around to places that are significant to him from his childhood.

Mr Blonde

* soooo smooth.

* You don’t even remember when you first saw blonde, you just saw each other often enough at random places that he decided to speak to you. This time it was at a gas station... yes random as hell. You’re pumping your gas watching the meter ans you hear a voice come behind you “Hey are you stalking me?” He asks you in a smooth raspy tone, eyes squinted a bit but he was obviously joking. “Hmm I could ask you the same thing. I swear I see you everywhere.” He chuckles ans scratches his thumb nail above his eyebrow lowering his head looking up at you “everywhere huh?” Obviously implying something sexual. You roll your eyes but you unintentionally blush because well guilty. “Well what’s your name? I want to finally be able to tell my friends WHO this beautiful woman is I’m always running into.” You are literally struck, “I’m Y/N” you say almost in a dream like trance. “It’s nice to meet you, I’m Victor Vega. I’m hoping the next time I see you it’s a little more planned.” Information is exchanged.

* Vic calls you the next day and asks if you have plans for dinner. You of course don’t.

* You drive over to vics and he is fixing his old school truck in the driveway. When you pull up he glances up and wipes his hands with his handy rag. He Is wearing a white tee shirt and dark blue jeans. He walks down to your car and greets you. He leads you inside and says he needs to get changed. He gets changed quickly and you are off. He drives down the Pacific highway along the coast. The sun is setting and the air is warm. You finally get to this little Mexican restaurant on the side of the road overlooking the ocean. The owner and his wife run the place. You’re led to a table for two outside.

* Vic is peering into your eyes and entranced by your conversation.

* You finally order and eat.

* After you eat the couple bring out a few shots of tequila and sit with you both. You all laugh ans chat and drink like you have all known each other for years.

* You hug the couple, a little tipsy but still coherent. Vic is able to drive no problem.

* As you drive up the coast back home, Vic has his hand on your thigh while he is driving. You lean closer into him and his hand gets higher

* When you get back to his house you are so revved up going home is not an option. You and Vic start kissing from the door and he leads you towards his bedroom.

* You end up spending the night and wearing his t-shirt to bed. The next day you bashfully get ready to go home as Vic is waking up. “Hey you’re not leaving already are you? At least let me make you coffee.” Vic goes to the kitchen and starts the coffee maker shirtless ans only wearing pajama bottoms. You end up staying at his house until the late afternoon. He has to get ready for a job and you need to get home to your own house.

* He calls you the next day and he tells you he already knows you’re something else. From then on you’re practically inseparable.

ok first of all i am SO sorry this took me forever to read and post but OMGGGGG I LOVE IT SO MUCH!!!! mr brown’s one has such a true romance vibe, also him telling y/n the entire history of the candy you’re buying is so accurate i can fully imagine that 😹😹

and the last part of eddie’s! like going around places from his childhood, i’ve never thought about that before but that’s so sweet and on point :’) i wonder what kind of places that might be? seriously though this is so great and i hope you’re doing amazing 🥰🥰 thank u so much!!!

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joachimnapoleon · 4 years

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“A loyalty... that remained unshaken”

It’s the anniversary of the marriage of Michel & Aglaé Ney, so here are some excerpts on their courtship & wedding from Ney’s biographer, A. Hilliard Atteridge.

***

When Ney first met his future wife at the New Year of 1802 she was just twenty--a tall, handsome brunette, with dark eyes, a pleasing expression, and a wit and intelligence that spoke well for the education she had received at St. Germain. For Ney it was a case of love at first sight. Thanks to Josephine’s intervention he received an invitation from M. Auguié to visit the château of Grignon in February. But at first the course of true love did not run smooth. Mademoiselle Aglaé was disappointed in her admirer. She had been told of his exploits in the Army of the Rhine and of the many good qualities that had made him to be as handsome as he was brave and generous, and it was something of a shock to her, when he was presented to her, to find that he did not come up to the ideal of her day dreams.

The general had kept to the old military fashions that seemed strange to the eyes of the lady used to the courtier-like modes of the Consulate. His round good-humoured face looked heavy and dull decorated as it was with a bunch of red whiskers on each cheek, and though the queue had gone out of fashion, it used to be worn in the hussar regiments, and Ney kept it still in memory of his first campaigns. All this gave him an awkward appearance, and this was not made the better by a certain shyness which still troubled him in a social circle. He was hopelessly deficient in “small talk” and the current forms of trifling compliment. Mademoiselle concluded that her hero was after all only a rather rough, old-fashioned, and stupid cavalry officer. Ney was disappointed in his turn by her studied coldness of manner.

But Josephine did not abandon her plan on account of a first check. She took care that Mademoiselle Aglaé should hear all manner of good things of Michel Ney, and the General’s friends discreetly prevailed on him to bring his personal appearance more up to date before he ventured to see the lady again. Ney was clean shaved in the fashion of the time. In the month of March, in an interval of one of his tours of inspection, he came again to Grignon, and this time he made some progress towards winning the lady’s good will.

By the month of May matters had advanced so far that he thought he might venture on a formal proposal, and it was made in the proper French fashion to the father of the hoped-for bride, under the patronage of Josephine, who wrote for Ney, on 30 May from Malmaison, a letter addressed to M. Auguié asking him to bestow his daughter’s hand on the General. This was sent to Ney with a covering letter in which Josephine wrote to him:--

“I send you, General, the letter you have asked of me for Citizen Auguié. May I beg that you will read it. I have not said in it all the good things that I know and think about you. I want to let this worthy family have the satisfaction of discovering for themselves all your good qualities; but I repeat to you the assurance of the interest which Bonaparte and I myself take in this marriage, and of the satisfaction he feels in thinking that he will thus secure the happiness of two people for whom he has a special good will and esteem. I share with him both these feelings.”

Such a communication as Josephine’s letter to M. Auguié could have only one result. Within the week Madame Bonaparte received a letter from him telling her that he was only too pleased to accept the proposal made on behalf of General Ney. On 27 July the marriage contract was signed at Paris. (...) The date of the marriage was fixed for 5 August. Sending his fiancée a little present of jewelry Ney made a proud apology for its small value. He could not offer her pearls and diamonds he said, because he had always held a soldier’s sword should be used to obtain glory and not wealth.

Both the civil and religious ceremonies took place on that day at Grignon, the former at the mairie of the commune, the latter in the chapel of the château, which, after years of disuse, had been restored for the occasion. The famous artist Isabel, afterwards court painter to the Emperor, designed the decorations and organized the fête which followed. The aisles and roof of the chapel were hung with garlands of green foliage. Wax lights shone from chandeliers half hidden in masses of flowers, and a military band occupied the music gallery. The bridegroom wore the full parade uniform of a general and a jeweled Egyptian sabre the gift of Bonaparte. The bride was dressed simply in white with a wreath of roses on her bridal veil. Beside them at the altar stood a grey-haired peasant and his wife, servants of the farm attached to the château, who were celebrating their golden wedding. They wore he picturesque dress of the peasants of the district. Ney had provided that of the aged shepherd, Aglaé that of his wife. Their presence at the ceremony was suggested by Ney. He said that their fifty years of happy married life would be a good omen for his wedding and they would remind him of his own humble origin.

In the evening there was a rustic fête in the gardens of the château. The friends of the family and the farmers and peasants of the neighborhood formed the audience before an open-air stage on which Aglaé’s sisters and some of their friends performed a little play written for the occasion. Then the military band gave a concert, during which as the darkness came on, transparencies shone out among the trees bearing the names of the battles in which Ney had borne a distinguished part. Then a choir of peasant girls came forward and sang a song wishing long life and happiness to the newly wedded pair, and an aged peasant invited them to enter a rustic hut where he said they would find a wise old woman who would tell them something of their future. The gipsy predicted long years of happiness. Neither she nor anyone else could foresee the firing party in the Luxembourg garden only a few years away in the dim future. But she had no pretense to read such secrets, for the gipsy was only Aglaé’s aunt and schoolmistress, old Madame Campan, and the “peasant” who introduced Ney and his bride to her was the artist Isabel, in the rustic disguise in which he presided at the fête.

Then there was a ball in the open air. In the first quadrille two of the couples were Aglaé and the old shepherd, and Ney with the aged peasant woman for his partner. There was a pause in the series of dances to witness a display of fireworks. Then the ball went on till near midnight the party broke up. It was a day long remembered at Grignon, and a happier wedding feast than the stately court ceremonials that were the usual forms of celebrating the marriages of Bonaparte’s friends.

(Source: A. Hilliard Atteridge, The Bravest of the Brave: Michel Ney, Marshal of France, 1912, pages 107-111)

***

And a nice little summary of their relationship by Ney’s biographer Harold Kurtz:

Theirs was a marriage of reason rather than of romance or high sentiment, but in Aglaé’s strong and steady character there grew in the course of years a loyalty of the wife and mother that remained unshaken until, as an old lady, she saw her husband’s monument erected outside the Palace of the Luxembourg.

(Source: Harold Kurtz, The Trial of Marshal Ney: His Last Years and Death, 1957, pages 34-35)

#Michel Ney #Aglaé Ney #Josephine de Beauharnais #Jean-Baptiste Isabey #Madame Campan #today in history #19th century #history

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wincore · 4 years

Note

under the stars with my favourite moon, taeil 😉✨⭐✨🌛

theme: soloist!au, childhood friends to lovers!au

It’s not awkward when you’re with Taeil. To be fair, it’s never been awkward when you’re with Taeil.

Except this time. Should you apologize? You definitely should. Then again, you weren’t really even sure it was a mistake. It’s been a week already, no contact with him. That night is a blur, a messy but daringly comforting blur, but you know what happened. That’s the worst. You think you’ll pull all your hair out by the time you get to explain to him, as you wait by the subway station staring anxiously at his text.

Okay. I’ll be there.

You both loved the old children’s park you used to hang out at—when times were simpler, that is. It’s been quite a while since you’ve been there. A bite of nostalgia for you to keep. It’s almost obsolete now, waiting to be sold to an eager renovator or some large business trying to take over this part of the city. You’ll take it while it lasts.

You tap your foot impatiently, occasionally clicking the power button on your phone to check the time and not doing a very good job of remembering it.

“(name).”

Taeil always greets you by your name. He looks a little tired, like sleep hadn’t quite been in his books last night, as he adjusts his long blue coat. He looks like winter and you get a sudden craving for something warm to drink.

For the first time in years, you don’t know what to say to him.

“Do you want to get something to eat? At the park?” he asks, clearly having missed your loss of words and still knowing what to say to you.

“Yeah!” Your voice cracks and you feel bashful. “I mean, some warm cookies would be nice. Or a drink, if you’re up for it.”

Taeil nods, smiling, and the warmth blossoms again in your chest. You’ve known him so long and yet it blooms over and over again in a cursed loop.

“I’ll take the cookies.”

You don’t know if you should feel embarrassed every time you have to shove aside the thought of holding his hand. He holds brown the paper bag, peanut butter and chocolate chip cookies in it, with one hand, the other so free. If only you could reach out just a little. That’s dangerous, you remind yourself. And selfish.

Careers are built and destroyed just as easily as relationships. Especially for Taeil. You can’t risk that on his behalf.

Instead, you listen to him hum and occasionally sing a soft melody on your way, the gentle breeze urging you on. This neighborhood used to be yours, you think, observing the empty cars and all the apartment buildings with their lights out. There’s an ancient tree by your old house, right in between two telephone poles, the wires running through the branches. You used to try and climb that tree once in a while but your parents never let you. (“Don’t climb public property, (name)! That tree isn’t ours.”)

You met Taeil by that tree, at the full age of six and a half, a strange kid with the stars in his eyes.

When you see the hill beside the playground, you think it used to be much larger. The park is still the same, as green as it can be in winter, but the playground equipment has rusted and a few are missing parts. You’re surprised to see a few people here and there, mostly couples. It makes you feel a little self-conscious. The garden pole lights still have someone to turn them on each night and they line the path you walk on. You feel a rush of happy nostalgia as you step onto the grass and make a run for the hills.

“(name)!” Taeil calls. When you turn around, you see him striding after you and you flash him a grin.

“Don’t be so slow, Taeil.”

“Cheeky.”

You reach the top of the small hill, a bump really, and you drop to the ground with a huff, your back against the soft grass. No dew thankfully, or you would’ve received a yucky wet chill through your spine. Taeil reaches a short minute later, sitting down beside you.

“I think a rock got into my shoe,” he says quietly, shaking his foot and trying to see if the rock falls out.

“Too bad you wore such an expensive one,” you snort.

“Too bad.”

Taeil lies down next to you with a sigh. You think he’s forgotten he’s wearing a Dior coat, and dried grass won’t do it much good. He’s so stupid, you think to yourself. He said they’d never notice him even if he were to walk the streets of Seoul in reflective golden pajamas. You know that’s a lie when half the city is desperate to hear his voice every night, when you see his face on the billboards every two weeks or the fans trailing after him like children after an ice cream van. You don’t know if he doesn’t see how popular he is or if he really doesn’t care.

“The stars are pretty tonight.”

You look at him first. Taeil looks to the sky with no particular expression but a hum in his voice. You quickly snap your head to sky as warmth flows into your cheeks.

“Ah. Yes, right. They are. Very.”

You cringe at yourself for your odd stuttering, masking it with a cough and a show of clearing your throat.

“Don’t catch a cold,” he says, sitting up, “Come on.”

You follow him, propping yourself up on your elbows before you sit up reluctantly. He takes his coat off before you can protest and places it over your back, the clothing unexpectedly warm. You didn’t know he radiated that much heat.

”You know, this place really isn’t as big as I thought it was,” you breathe out.

He laughs, the wind picking up and carrying the sound away. “We grew up.”

You hum in agreement. You were young with him once.

It shouldn’t feel ages away, really. You scoot closer to Taeil, your shoulders touching the way they used to every night all throughout middle school, high school and college. You smile to yourself at the funnier memories. The first and only time you shoplifted because the nervousness made Taeil a mess, the time you sneaked into that movie theater to watch a movie neither of you really cared about, your first time at a college party where Taeil proved to be incredulously good at beer pong. Of course, there was also the time you bit back your tongue instead of telling him you loved him before he left for college. You don’t regret it.

“About that night.”

You tense up. You knew it was coming. And yet, you haven’t prepared anything—anything that sounds right. Oh, if only you weren’t so loose-lipped that night; it wasn’t even the champagne talking. A surprise congratulations party thrown by Johnny Suh and Moon Taeil humming your favorite song to you on the rooftop away from it was all it took. His head against your shoulder, your hands playing with his as yet another stupid joke passed between the two of you—oh how could you not? Words are easy to take back, not the feelings.

“When you said you loved me, did you mean it?”

You stay quiet, a response beyond your reach. Your eyes are anywhere but on him, so you can’t tell what expression he’s making. Something tells you he wants to reach out.

“We don’t have to speak,” he adds quietly, “Maybe some other time.”

Ah, Moon Taeil, always trying to make you feel comfortable.

You don’t know why he took it upon himself to be so sweet, so warm to everyone in the world. Everyone who listens to his music and thinks of him as kind—they’re correct. Sometimes your selfishness whispers to you memories of when it was just you.

“I did,” you answer. You dare not look at him.

Taeil used to speak words, thoughts that were perhaps beyond his years. But they were only for a moment and he used to go back to goofing off, unspoken explanations making you restless. You learned to forget though, for Taeil is and has always been more than spoken words.

And Taeil is made of all the things that make you feel at ease.

You make yourself look up at him. He looks at you with eyes trembling more than usual, a familiar softness in them.

“I did mean it,” you repeat, louder this time.

“I’m sorry.”

You feel a stone pull your heart to the pits of your stomach. Courage, dear courage. You wish it didn’t fail so easily in front of him.

“Every day, I just think I should have loved you when I had the chance,” he whispers.

You snap your focus back to him. He awkwardly fumbles with his fingers, eyes trained away from you.

“I wish it were simpler. I wish I told you earlier. I wish I could pretend to be closer to you.”

Taeil doesn’t make sense when he rambles.

You make the first move, leaning in as your eyelids grow heavy but Taeil stops you, holding you by the shoulders. The action makes you feel a wash of red shame on your face, and you look at him with round eyes.

“Are you sure about this?” he says softly.

You pause.

“More than anything.”

Taeil pushes his lips against yours with a longing almost as explosive as yours. Hands nimbly set against your waist, you find yours running through his hair almost instinctively as you press further. There’s a knot slowly untying in your chest.

You part, gasping for breath.

“So many songs I wrote for you and you couldn’t see it,” he laughs, gently resting his forehead against yours with a certain heat spread across his face.

You make a face. “Taeil, oh my god. Are you being cheesy? That was horrible.”

He laughs more at that and you can’t blame yourself for being so fond of it. People pay to hear his voice and all the absurdly beautiful galaxies that come with it; and here you are, getting to hear him laugh and talk and tell you jokes he thought were funny. Here you are, getting to hear him say he loves you.

“Taeil, I think you crushed the cookies.“

“Ah, f—“

#taeil #taeil fluff #nct fluff #nct 127 fluff #nct scenarios #nct 127 scenarios #taeil scenarios #nct taeil #nct 127 imagines #nct imagines #taeil x reader #listen to coming home for that added extra effect #taeil truly best boy #moonwrites #kiss prompts #moon stop turning everything into a kdrama challenge hahaha

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neocity-sarai · 4 years

Text

Tattoos Together

❈ main concept: childhood best friends to lovers!

❈ pairing: mark lee x reader

❈ alerts: fluff, angsty angst, language, parties, mentions of drinking/smoking, mentions of the dreamies/other idols

❈ song reference: “tattoos together” by lauv

Vancouver has always been home. Since you were a child, Vancouver has been the place to be. Years of dinners in the city, biking around Granville island, and field trips to the Victoria gardens were the norm, just little secret spots you go to when you want a getaway- an escape from school, work, whatever it is you’re doing. At age 15, the Lees moved into the light blue house next to yours, the one with overgrown weeds in the yard. The one with the crooked, leaning mailbox in front of it- daisies painted on the rusty metal. A young girl, an artist, used to live there until she moved to Paris for her next exhibit- leaving the lonely, periwinkle house behind. That day the Lees moved in, your parents baked more muffins than usual (on purpose) so they could welcome our new neighbors by enticing them with food. The saying goes that a way to a person’s heart is through their stomach right? When dad is done packaging them up into a neat little box, he shoves it into your hands, “Y/N. I hear the Lees have a son about your age, go introduce yourself.”

Glaring at your father, you set the box that was tied with a small yellow ribbon on the table before saying, “I’m sure they can manage just fine without the muffins. Why do we have to go greet them now? they’re probably tired from moving.”

Mom gives you a stern look, her jaw tightening, “Don’t be silly, it’s a nice gesture. Come back before dinner is ready.”

Before you can even protest, your parents are shoving you out the door, still careful not to crush the perfectly wrapped box. Stepping over the stairs, you finally manage to make it to the door. Here goes nothing? The cherry red door swings open lightly after you linger my finger-tip on their doorbell, opening up to a pretty woman- her facial features defined of asian descent. Her dark hair is tied into a loose braid, her pink sweater tucked into the waistband of her culotte pants. The woman smiles at you, the corner of her lips upturned, “Ah- you must be Y/N. I just got a call from your mother.”

You try to hide the shaking of my hands, handing her the box of warmed muffins, “Uh-hi Mrs. Lee. My parents made some muffins to welcome you to the uh- neighborhood.”

The woman’s eyes crinkle until her eyes stretch thinly, “That’s so nice of you! Thank you, I’m sure Mark will enjoy these!”

You question,“Um- Mark?”

Her laugh is light and airy, “My son-Mark! Wait here, I’ll get him.”

You wave my hands at her, motioning my refusal, “No worries, I-I have to get going for dinner..”

She doesn’t wait to listen to my words before turning away from the door to scream Mark’s name. A few minutes later, a boy wearing a dress shirt over his black t-shirt comes stumbling down the stairs, a pair of black headphones hanging off his neck. His glasses rest on the bridge of his nose as his jet-black hair sits as a messy pile on his head. It looks like he hasn’t combed it in days. Mark shouts, “What? What did you need mom?”

Mark’s mother clutches him by the arm, shoving him into my view, “Meet y/n. She’s the daughter of the family next door.”

At first, no words come out of Mark’s mouth, his doe, boyish eyes as wide as saucers. Mark’s mother hits him in the back, causing him to cough abruptly, “Uh-yeah-my name’s Mark. W-what’s your name?”

Mark’s mother laughs again, leaning down to whisper into his ear, “I already said her name is y/n!”

Redness creeps up to Mark’s cheeks, his nose tinted a slight shade of rose as his dark irises bounce everywhere but at me.

You smile anyway, “It’s y/n.”

He gives me a small smile and a nod, eyes set on the ground. His mother speaks up again, “I’m really sorry y/n, my boy’s really shy around pretty girls…”

Mark lightly hits his mom in the shoulder, “Mom! Don’t say that! You’re embarrassing me!”

His face is as red as a tomato, glasses sliding farther down his nose only for him to push them up with the tip of his index finger. I laugh at their cute relationship, holding out a hand to Mark, “It’s nice to meet you. I hope we can be friends?”

Mark stutters once more, his eyes wild with energy, “I-i’d like that very much-h, yeah.”

After you tell Mrs. Lee goodbye, you give Mark a nod before turning back on to their driveway. The both of them stand in the doorway, Mark’s voice reprimanding his mom in the house behind me. Maybe it wasn’t so bad meeting the Lees after all. That night, you go to bed, replaying the vision of Mark’s embarrassed smile in your mind.

Age 18 (senior year)

The next several years breeze by. Ever since Mark Lee enrolled into Everlane high, he wasn’t as shy of a freshman compared to the day you met him all those summers ago. Over the years, he grew a lot taller, his face a lot mature, yet still adorably awkward at the same time. He became a smart student, one favored by many of the science teachers- causing his friends (Jeno and Jaemin) to roll their eyes playfully whenever Mrs. Scofski would praise Mark for solving a chemical equation on the white-board. Mark was a basketball captain along with his best friend Hyuck, the two always tag-teaming during the school’s games. Due to Renjun’s forcing, Mark joined the student body as a reputable member. He became a biology tutor for kids who had found science class difficult or just fooled around without paying attention (Jisung and Chenle being two of those kids). Quickly, Mark was showered as Everlane’s golden boy, your neighborhood’s ideal son. He was doted as smart, popular, and mr. perfect to all the girls in the area- no matter how much he always denied it when you told him so. After your first meeting, your parents would frequently eat together, alternating households. The Lees also force Mark to walk you home from school, in fears that you would be kidnapped by a random stranger. At least he was good for one of many things- telling you that he’d swing his basketball at any person who would come even close to you.

Most days after your homework sessions, you’d plan new adventures with each other. your week went like this: on Mondays, you went walking along the water, skipping rocks on the bay until the sun went down and could see the glitters of the city sky-line. In the spring, the sky would melt from a tangerine orange color into a musty silver. On Tuesdays, you’d get clam chowder at Phil’s on 2nd avenue, Mark always ruined his shirt ( you would forbid him to wear white on Tuesdays) and then you’d sit on this abandoned rooftop above an old department store. Up there, the air always felt cold so that you would have to blow your warm breaths into your hands, lean your heads on each other’s shoulders as Mark let out his high-pitched laughs. On Wednesdays, it was maple waffles before school in Gas town, the steaming clock chiming delicate music by the hour. Thursdays were meant for taking stupid photos, listening to dusty mixtapes, and hanging out with the rest of your friends. Last Thursday, you would all go to the Capilano suspension bridge and sit on a treehouse’s edge- causing Hyuck to scream from the heights. Jaemin always quieted him down with a bone-crushing hug or a playful kiss, earning a look of disgust from Renjun. You always wanted gelato after that. On Fridays, all of you would stay in for a movie night at either Mark’s house or yours- Jeno punching Chenle to stop him from making fun of the ghosts in the horror movies you’ve been watching. It never works. Saturdays were like Mark’s public appearances at Everlane high’s party scene, one call and you all would be at someone’s house party. You’d never really enjoyed them though: too many people, too much dirty dancing, and the burning stench of vodka stung your nose. The only reason you would stay is for Mark and the boys. Sundays, your family and Mark’s get together for either dinner or lunch- switching off every week. Your parents would even play a betting game to choose who gets to wash dishes, Mark groaning every time his family loses rock-paper-scissors. Spending time with the people you loved made the days go by faster as you never particularly had bad days in the extreme. Piles of homework and grumpy teachers didn’t hold a candle to what you’d get to do every day- if it meant spending time with Mark. When you go to bed each night, you would feel content- happy, even.

Monday

You still think back to the moment when the boys were eating lunch in the cafeteria, like you did everyday. Chenle was talking about how he’d earn himself detention because he was messing around with chlorine in chemistry in order to make Jisung laugh.

“You’re such an idiot, Chenle. That’s going on your record, you know?” Jaemin scoffs.

Holding his sandwich in one hand, Jeno sweeps his coffee-colored bangs out of his eyes, “What do you expect? it’s Chenle- it’s like he’s powered on candy all the time.”

Chenle slurps up his gummy worms in an exaggerated motion, “I’ve already been through 6 packs of these since this morning. I feel so sick.”

Narrowing his eyes, Hyuck rests his chin on the palm of his hand as he pouts his lips, “Poor baby, eat more and you’ll be blowing up the toilet in no time!”

Chenle squints his eyes at the blond-haired boy, tossing a gummy worm at him, “Hyuck! Stop it!”

Hyuck continues to laugh as he clutches his stomach, Jisung stealing the candy from Chenle’s fingers before stuffing it into his mouth. I pull Hyuck up from his side, “Hyuck, you’re going to fall, sit up!”

Due to his lack of breath, Hyuck stares into my eyes, his golden irises gleaming, “You’re here to catch me though.”

You push him back down, palming my hand onto his face, “Stop reading cheesy rom-com lines. It’s so not cute, cringey at that.” Before Hyuck can finish whining, we’re interrupted by Mark plopping his food tray on the table. Jaemin says, “Someone’s late. Where were you?”

Mark looks like he’s out of breath, heaving and panting as he cards his fingers through the crest of his raven hair. “You guys aren’t going to believe this but, I think Cassandra likes me.”

Jaemin raises a skeptical eyebrow, “You mean Cassandra as the cheerleader who got kicked off the team for drinking last year?”

Suddenly, you stop paying attention to the conversation anymore. All you feel is the weight of your heart sink, my limbs feeling heavier at your side. Hyuck looks at you, noticing your fallen expression before clutching your hand under the table, giving it a comforting squeeze. It seems like Jeno sees it too because he glances from you to Mark as Mark excitedly explains his story. “Yeah, I was just finishing up some tutoring with Roberto from last period and Cassandra gave me her number after that! Isn’t that sweet?”

Jaemin nods disinterestedly, “Yeah, sweet I guess.”

Among the group, you have only ever admitted your feelings for Mark to Hyuck because he cornered you about it one day. Yet, it seems like Jeno, Jaemin, and Renjun have caught on from their pitied faces. Mark drones on about how “totally cool” and how athletic he thinks Cassandra is. The difference is you don’t play any sports and you don’t slap coats of makeup on your face every-day before school, nothing like Cassandra. You shake your head at the ping in your heart- a small glimmer of hope that Mark would ever feel the same about you. By the time lunch is over, classes feel longer than usual. They drag on, your teachers’ words in one ear and out the other. You text Mark that you have to stay over for school so he can walk home without you- a blatant, utter lie. Instead, you opt to put my headphones in and take the long route home. Plopping on to the surface of my comforter, you hear the familiar ring of Mark’s text tone.

[2:55 P.M.] (Marcus Lee <3) Y/n? Did you get home okay?

[2:55] Yeah, I did. Thanks Mark.

[2:56] (Marcus Lee <3) Hey, are you okay? You seemed a bit down today? Like you know you can tell me anything right?

[2:56] Yeah. I know. I’m just a bit more tired than usual. Stayed up last night writing Mr. Gillion’s paper..

[2:57] (Marcus Lee <3) hahahah ewww. That doesn’t sound fun… Do you want to go into town and get churros later?

[2:58] I think I’ll pass today, I got some homework to finish. I hope you have a good day though :)

[3:00] (Marcus Lee <3] hahaha okay. I guess I’ll have to take my mom on a churro date then hahah. See you tomorrow! ;)

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to hang out with Mark. Still, you couldn’t forget about the way Mark’s eyes sparkled when he talked about Cassandra, the way his voice cracked from the excitement of talking about it. How can you expect him to know? To reciprocate? It’s not like you were dating, you have no right to be jealous of Cassandra- a pretty girl, someone who had football players falling at her feet. Even if you had told Mark the truth, what if he didn’t feel the same? It would make these awkward, not to mention with your friend group. You shouldn't.

Tuesday

In all honesty, you had forgotten about yesterday’s lunch conversation. That was until the reminder hits you like a slap to the face when you see Cassandra’s arms wrapped around Mark’s neck as he laughs into her shoulder. Renjun and you had been walking to art class, the crack in your heart widening by the second. They fit so well, the way Mark’s basketball jacket matches Cassandra’s cheerleading uniform, the way his teammates and her friends hang out together in a pack. Renjun whispers to you, “Are you okay?”

You nod at him, trying to conceal your emotions, “Just fine, let’s head to class.”

When you pass Cassandra and Mark along with their cluster of friends, Cassandra’s voice comes out in a squeaky tone, “Hey, y/n.” When you turn to look at the pair, you see Cassandra’s hand daintily resting on Mark’s stomach, his eyes wide as saucers when he realizes you and Renjun are in front of him. You hear Renjun mutter an ‘ugh’ after curtly waving to them. Mark leaves Cassandra’s grasp, motioning towards you both, “You guys going to art? I’ll walk with you-”

Before you can answer, Cassandra wraps her thin arms around Mark’s waist, “We have to go help Felix with the party stuff remember?”

Mark scratches the back of his neck before glancing back at her and you with Renjun, his mind in a state of conflict. To make it easier for him, you smile at him, “You go, looks like you’re busy.”

Walking faster, Renjun drags you by the arm as we breeze past the crowd of athletes and cheerleaders. Renjun rolls his eyes again, “I don’t get why he likes her so much, they haven’t even been friends for that long and you’re right-”

You cover a hand to his mouth, “Renjun, it’s okay. I’ve accepted it by now.” You try to convince yourself at the very least.

After art class is done, lunch time seems to come in a hurry. Everyone takes their usual seats, Hyuck on your right with Renjun on your left. Jeno, Jaemin, Chenle, and Jisung sit around you three in a circular formation. Jaemin speaks first, “So, what, are Mark and Cassandra dating now?”

Jeno shrugs his shoulders before stuffing a quarter of a cookie into his mouth, “Don’t know and don’t care.”

You say, “Looks like it, they were pretty intimate in the hallway this morning.”

Renjun and Hyuck make disapproving faces, Renjun quips, “I don’t know. I feel like this is happening so fast and he told me that he really-”

“Shut up!” Hyuck screams at Renjun, throwing a limp french fry at him.

“Ew, what the hell was that for?” Renjun’s eyebrows are furrowed with disgust, patting the fabric of his white denim jacket from any salt crumbs.

Hyuck’s eyes go wide as he makes a zipping motion on his lips, his blond hair gleaming under the dim lights, “Don’t say it- she needs to hear it from him!”

Renjun shoots back, “But it’s so obvious, what difference does it make?”

“What are we talking about?” Chenle’s face contorts with confusion, Jisung looking at him for any hints.

Jaemin glares at the pair, “Shh, let’s just all move on.”

You say, “I’m with Chenle, what are we talking about?”

Hyuck places a firm hand on my shoulder, his honey blond hair casting shadows on his forehead, “Nothing, it’s not important.”

As you eat, you spot Mark walking over to all of you, his black backpack slinged over one shoulder before setting his food down. “Hey, guys. We can squeeze in two right?”

Hyuck looks at Mark, his eyes furrowing with bewilderment, “Two?”

“Hey guys!” Cassandra’s preppy figure pops out from behind Mark. She looks more done up than before: red lipstick, long platinum-streaked hair in a slicked pony-tail, and the tightest cheer-leading uniform she could fit herself into. She plops herself down in between Mark and Hyuck, taking off the container of her salad before looking around our table. I sense Renjun and Hyuck give me a look while the other boys continue to eat in silence.

“So what did you guys do today?” Mark asks. Jaemin gives him a short response while Jisung explains how the class pet mouse made it’s escape during second hour, earning a chuckle from Mark. You get an odd feeling in your stomach when Cassandra looks at Mark so lovingly at your lunch table. The boys’ dynamic seems almost disrupted every time Cassandra butts in to say that she doesn’t think Jeno’s jokes are funny. As lunch finishes up, the school bell reverberates through the cafeteria walls- a signal for the next class period.

The next class is statistics with Mr. Midas. Out of the group, Mark and Jaemin are the only ones in the same class as you but it doesn’t help that they’re seated as farway as possible. On the bright side, you’re seated next to Chan, one of Mark’s basketball teammates. Over the course of the year, Chan has always been a kind deskmate by helping you when you’re confused with a problem or sharing his study guide with you. Sometimes you notice he scoots closer to explain a formula and asks you if you’re uncomfortable with his sudden closeness, to which to his relief, you always reply no. Chan is just as handsome as Mark, someone well regarded in the school. No one could resist his flirty charm, the way his chestnut hair curls to one side of his forehead and the way his hoodie falls past his waist a bit. You discover how Chan is really passionate about producing music and running your high school’s channel as a radio dj. When Chan smiles, it makes you happy to see how his eyes crinkle into crescent moons, and how his teeth gleam white when he smiles about the flower you drew him at the corner of his notes.

“Are you doing okay, y/n?”

You give a reassuring nod, “I’m doing okay Chan. Thanks for asking.”

He quirks up his brow, a scar slashing it at the end, “You don’t look okay though. Listen, if you don’t want talk about it, you’re all good, I just-”

Pausing him with the hold of your hand, you continue, “if you don’t mind, I’d like to talk about it.”

He gives you affirmation, you say, “Have you ever felt unrequited love?”

Chan shakes his head no, leaning back in his chair, “Maybe when I was younger but not now? I’m truly sorry y/n. Whoever it is, anyone who doesn’t see how funny and beautiful you are doesn’t deserve you period.”

You hold your tongue for a bit due to the fact of Chan’s comment catching you off guard. Freezing, he realizes the bluntness of his words, “Oh man, you just said unrequited love and I biffed it right? I didn’t mean it that way-no, wait. You are funny and very pretty so, uh-yeah.”

Bursting into laughter, you put a hand to your mouth causing Cassandra and Mark to look at you from across the room. Soon enough, you tear your eyes away from the students staring at you to focus your attention on Chan. He’s laughing too, his voice full of brightness and mirth. You respond, a light cloud of pink floating your cheeks, the room feeling a bit warmer, “I really appreciate that Chan. Thank you for making me smile today.”

A smirk graces Chan’s face as he says, “Happy to do it, whenever you want really.”

Statistics goes by extremely quickly when you’re sitting next to Chan- it’s like he’s telling you a couple of jokes and then it’s over. As the bell rings, Chan nudges you with his elbow as he packs up his bag, “So, I uh-this friday, we’re having our championship game and this party after? I was wondering if you want to come?”

You hesitate, thinking you might have plans with Mark, yet you decide he would probably hang out with his girlfriend over you anyway.

“I’d love to come. On one condition.”

Chan raises his eyebrows, “And what’s that?”

“You have to win the game.”

Chan throws up his hands almost hitting you in the process, “Well, duh! I’m not going to let you down, I promise.”

Friday

For the past couple days, you haven't heard from Mark. No texts, no calls, and no plans out in the city. You were hurt that the boy you’d call your best friend would ignore you just because he got a new girlfriend, your years of friendship overlooked just like that. When Friday rolls around, you attend the Everlane versus Brisbane championship basketball game. You decide that you’re there to cheer on Chan, the boy who’s taller than the rest, his purple jersey hanging against his muscular frame. You spot Cassandra giving Mark a kiss on his cheek on the court, you have to look away at the sight. By the next hour or so, you’re surprised at how long Chenle, Jisung, and Jaemin have been screaming. Each of them held a poster for each Hyuck, Jeno, and Mark- their jersey numbers adorned with dollar store glitter and messy handwriting. When Mark makes a slam dunk in the basket, the crowd goes ear-deafeningly wild, cheering out Mark’s name like a repeated mantra. Shortly after, Hyuck makes an attempt to pass the basketball to Mark; the ball missing Mark’s hands before Chan dribbles it to their opponent’s basket. The cheerleaders dance to the thrum of the crowd screaming Chan’s name over Mark’s, causing Mark to grit his teeth with irritation. For a while, the back and forth of swaying bodies goes on until the Everlane team makes the last shot before the final countdown. When Jeno makes the last point, you’re certain you’ve lost your hearing by then. The cheers ring in the gym, causing the alarm to blare with victory. After everyone exits the gym, you see Mark, Chan, and Jeno being tossed into the air in a sea of fellow players and short-skirted girls as pompoms explode upwards. You decide to wait with Chenle, Jisung, and Jaemin in the empty parking lot, waiting for Renjun to pull his car around. Jeno and Hyuck jog to you all first, their basketball duffels hanging from their hands, bodies are drenched with sweat. Chenle says, “That’s some fine work out there gentleman if I do say so myself.” Hyuck does his signature handshake with Chenle, a reckless grin smeared across his face, “I knew we’d win. Brisbane can’t take down the undefeated.”

Jeno gives him a firm nod, slinging his arm around a pleased Jaemin. You smile at the boys, “Congratulations guys, you all killed it on the court.”

Hyuck and Jeno smash you in a sweaty hug, “Aw, thanks y/n. You did well cheering for us.”

You laugh, “Get off, you guys are sweaty!”

Before Hyuck can smear his sweat onto your shoulder playfully, a voice stops you in your tracks.

“Y/n!”

It’s Chan. A damp towel hangs off his neck, his nike headband wrapping his forehead under his bangs. “You ready to go?”

You shout, “Just give me a second!”

Hyuck and Jeno give you a knowing look, “Where are you going with Chan?”

You reply, “Oh, we’re just carpooling to the party at Felix’s house.”

Renjun asks, “Also, where’s Mark?”

Hyuck shakes his head in contempt, “He’s heading to the party with Cassandra.”

Jaemin mutters, “Of course he is.”

Of course he would. Mark is one of the captains on the team, why would he be excluded from the after-party? The ache in your heart pings again, you feel sick from the thought of Mark making out with Cassnadra at some gross party. You wouldn’t be able to handle the tears. Though, Chan had invited you, not Mark- who he didn’t even mention it to you, the least you could do is be courteous. What kind of person gets invited to something and cancels so last minute?

You say, “You guys get to the party and I’ll meet you there, okay?”

Renjun’s eyes crease his concern, “You do know that Mark and Cassandra will be there though right?”

You nod, “Yes. But we won’t mind them, let’s just go have fun tonight.”

After parting, you jog over to Chan who’s tossing his duffel into the trunk of his silver Lexus, his hair damp from the game. He turns to you, grinning, “you ready?”

You smile at him, telling him yes before launching yourself into the passenger seat. Chan turns the ignition, his car interior smelling like cherries from the air freshener that hangs above his head. As Chan drives, the street lamps glow on the side of the road as the moon peeks between the rainy clouds. He rolls your window down, your skin shivering at the cold chill of the night. “So, there was something I wanted to ask you?”

Turning to him, you face the chestnut-haired boy, “You remember stats class a few days ago?”

You reply, “I do?”

“Mark was looking at you the whole time. When you guys hadn’t texted in several days, he asked me if you and I were a thing during practice.”

You quirk your brows up in surprise, “And what did you say?”

Chan smiles to himself, letting out a breathy chuckle, “I said no. But, I was definitely interested.”

You allow yourself to feel nice, to feel like Chan likes you for who you are around him. Chuckling at him, you flip your hair in a sassy manner, “Well, I’ll definitely keep that noted.”

When you arrive at the party, the small two-story house looks like a sight straight out of one of those coming of age movies. The small house is jam packed with people, some hanging out on the lawn as they sip their drinks as music shakes the walls. You spot Renjun’s car from the side of your eye, meaning that your friends had gotten there before you and Chan. Upon entering the house, it’s like a warzone within it. Some people are peacefully talking by the lounge area as they feast on snacks. Some are in the kitchen mixing a plethora of colorful drinks together while also playing a form of beer pong. Girls run up and down the stairs with their friends, some with boys trailing behind them with a trance in their eyes. Some are grinding on each other on the dance floor, sensual music thrumming at the source of the boombox.

The first thing you see are your friends sitting in the corner by the backyard door, Mark on the loveseat with Cassandra practically on his lap. You instinctively grab Chan’s hand so you don’t break down right there. He gives you a surprised glance, “y/n? What’s wrong?”

Instantly, you let go of his hand as you cast your eyes down towards the floor. When you don’t answer, he sees a view of your friends laughing along with Mark and Cassandra. You feel a large hand cover yours which causes you to look up at Chan, “It’s okay y/n. Just stick with me.”

You nod, leading him to the drink table in the kitchen. When he leans down to sniff a large bowl full of sour juices and cubes of fruit, his nose scrunches in disgust, “ugh, jungle juice.”

Out of random courage, you swipe an empty cup from the tower as you shove the metal ladle of jungle juice into it. Downing it despite Chan’s protest, you feel a surge of electricity light your lungs on fire as the beat of your heart quickens from the liquid courage. He laughs, keeping his hand on the small of your back, “You surely make reckless decisions when you’re bothered by something.”

You giggle back at him, “You drink something too, you’re a winner tonight after all.” Chan reaches from a glittery purple bowl that pops with bubbles, “a toast to that, y/n. A toast to that.”

before he downs the liquid in one go. You feel his body jolt from the energy too, a smirk plastered on his face, “Wanna go play a game with some of the boys? Only if you want to, we can talk upstairs too.”

Shaking your head in refusal, you hang on to Chan’s shoulder, “Let’s go have fun.”

Chan grabs your hand, his metal chain bracelet cool on your wrist as he leads you past your friends, Mark, and Cassandra before opening the backyard door. Mark moves Cassandra off his lap, her eyes as cold as ice before she angrily gets up to get another drink. The rest of your friends sit in their circle in awe, glancing down at Chan’s hand enclosed on top of yours. Coolly waving to them, you say, “I’m outside if you need me.” before you meet eyes with Mark- his lips pressed into a frown, his irises shot with hurt. You ignore the ache that grows on the wall of your heart. You tell yourself, Mark’s ignored you all this time because he doesn’t feel the same way and never will. After being outside on the patio for a while, you meet some of Chan’s radio-club friends as all of you play a game of sorry. For a moment, Mark and the others aren’t on your mind, just the fact that Chan is pulling you into an enthusiastic hug after winning a round. You turn to Chan, “Hey, I’ll be right back. I have to use the bathroom.”

Chan smiles at you before he presses a lingering kiss to the crown of his head, “Sure thing. I’ll be here.”

You’re not even surprised that Chan kisses you, whether or not it’s the alcohol, you don’t mind it. When you head back into the house, you feel an arm grab your wrist and spin you around. Your friends are still sitting where they had when you passed them except Mark is the one boring his eyes into yours as he grabs your shoulders, “We need to talk now.”

Before you can say no, he pulls you to the quieter part of the kitchen, you say with bitterness, “What do you want Mark? I have someone waiting for me.”

Left without any patience, Mark lets out a huff, “Are you and Chan together?”

You sigh, casting your glance at him, “Seriously? It’s none of your business. Second, it’s not like you told me that you were with Cassandra.”

Mark uses his hand to comb back his black hair, making it even more messy, “Y/n. That’s because we’re not together, it’s just complicated and I haven’t had the time to tell you why or how we-”

“Stop right there. You ignored me for days Mark! You never texted or called! What was I supposed to do? Pine after you when you’re chasing Cassandra around?”

Mark’s doe eyes flash with pain, his hand tightening around the sides of your arms, “No! That’s not it! I didn’t mean it that way, I’m just trying to figure out what to do..” You shove Mark off you, his hands sliding off your arms, “Well save it. I’m done with you playing around with my feelings!”

Mark calls after you, tears streaming down your face as you try to make your way to the bathroom without being stared at. It takes all three minutes of some Chris Brown song for you to stop heaving. You feel sick to your stomach, so much for a fun night. You text Chan to meet you outside in front of the house, avoiding the corner your friends were comforting Mark at. Chan finds you leaning against his car, “Oh my god, are you okay?”

Giving him the only smile you can muster, you explain, “Listen, I’m so sorry. You invited me to this party and I just-I’m here being a cry-baby and everything. I’m just going to walk home now. I’m sorry.”

Chan shakes his head in definite refusal, “Nonsense. I’m driving you home. I’m about done anyway.”

You ask hesitantly, “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

The night drive back to your neighborhood gives you peace of mind. Chan rolls all the windows down as soft music plays from his radio, slowing the bounce of your heartbeat. He’s got one hand on the wheel and one hand rested on yours by your knee, you feel comfortable with Chan. It’s the same feeling that flutters in your stomach when you’re close to Mark and right now, you hate the thought of the black-haired boy that consumes so many of your thoughts. Before Chan’s tires screech to a stop in front of your porch, he turns to you with concerned eyes, lips pressed into a pout. “Come here, y/n.”

You waste no time collapsing into the space on his wide chest, his hands stroking your hair down. Resting his chin on your head, you close your eyes to the rhythmic beat of Chan’s heart as the soft patter of the rain is enough to drift you to sleep. You pull away from his chest, looking up at the shadows in Chan’s eyes, his hair falling near his eye-lids while he glances at your lips before looking down to his lap. He says apologetically, “I’m so sorry. I’m not trying to take advantage of your feelings right now. I’m really not-”

You cut him off with your hand pressed to the curve of his cheek, “Can I kiss you?”

He doesn’t waste time to grip the back of your neck, kissing you harshly as he bites the bottom of your lip. You sigh into him, fisting the fabric of his jacket when he moves in even closer to twist a hair behind your ear. When you detach from him, you can’t control the burst of tears that shakes your body. The alcohol blurs the vision of Mark and Chan together as your mind throbs from the effect, leaving you dizzy. You apologize to Chan over and over again, wiping the tears that fall from your eyes. Instead, he kisses his lips to the side of your temple as he urges you to get some sleep. Like the gentleman he is, he walks you to the front door, draping his basketball jacket over your shoulders. Your home is dark- due to the fact that your parents are out of town on a business trip in Toronto so you just flop onto your bed in defeat. Mark’s ringtones shoot off from your phone, notifications of several apology texts and missed calls. Not wanting to check any of them, you toss your cell phone into the grey trash bin that sits by your desk. Going to sleep feels especially difficult when alcohol still surges through your veins and you can’t control the sobs that erupt from your throat. You hear Mark’s car pull up on his driveway, not wanting to see him whatsoever. On your bed, you almost feel him looking up at your window to check if you’re awake- for once, you’re glad it’s curtains are securely shut.

The next few weeks are pretty miserable besides the fact that you’re getting closer to Chan. You don’t acknowledge Mark’s presence anymore. By Hyuck and Jaemin, you’re told he comes by to the lunch table to check if you’re there. You still hang out with your friends separately rather than in your usual group- the web that connects you slowly falling apart. It’s difficult when you have art with Hyuck and Renjun, stats with Jaemin, and ceramics with Jisung, Chenle, and Jeno- as you try to take paths opposite of Mark at the same time. Later on, you explain everything that’s been going on between you and Mark to Chan. He takes it surprisingly well by comforting you and listening to your anger, how he’s willing to let you heal before you two start anything. How could Chan be so patient with you? He says it’s because he really likes you and would rather be there for you as a friend first. When you get home, your parents give you a lecture about starting things with Mark, how they want to have dinner with his family but can’t. Of course, they feel sorry once you explain to them what really happened.

Now, the weather outside seems a lot sunnier, yellow pollen from the peonies float in the air as you make your way out of the double doors. The time is nearing for spring break- a well needed barrier from Mark, from everything. Before you walk your way home, you’re stopped by Hyuck and Renjun. Renjun holds an envelope in his hands before giving it to Hyuck, both of them trapping you, “Y/n. We’ve been looking all over for you.”

You say, “I’m going home now, can we talk tomorrow?”

Hyuck narrows his eyes at me with contempt, “No, of course not. Just hear us out.”

Renjun speaks up too, “Do you have plans for spring break? I’m assuming you don’t because you mentioned a few weeks ago that you didn’t. We’ve got 8 tickets to Victoria island.”

You reply, “And.. your point is?”

Hyuck crosses his arms, rolling his eyes, “The point is to make up. Our group is in shambles because of all this lovesick drama. A trip is a perfect opportunity to mend things.”

Laughing, you cackle at his suggestion, “If you expect me to go then that’s hilarious. I’m not going.”

Hyuck throws up his hands in frustration. “How can you kick it if you don’t even know what will happen?”

Raising your eyebrows defiantly, “Do you remember what happened when Mark and I were in the same room? Hyuck, it’s not happening.”

Renjun grumbles, flicking the envelope in my face, “Fine! We won’t invite Mark then! We just want you to come with us and then we’ll see what happens from there okay?”

Hyuck socks Renjun in the shoulder with a fist before shouting, “How can we not ask Mark?”

In response, Renjun shoots a frigid glare at Hyuck as if he’s threatening him with his eyes, “We’re just not going to ask him! Y/n, will you come?”

You pause for a moment as you stare back at the pair. You raise your voice to make yourself crystal clear, “I will only go if Mark doesn’t. Simple as that.”

Renjun bobs his head in agreement, “Deal. No Mark.”

When you walk away, you still hear Hyuck berating Renjun for his decision only to be shut up by some snarky comment that comes through Renjun’s lips. The sound of their voices falling away.

First day of spring break

By the time spring break begins, you find yourself standing in front of Renjun’s van with your suitcase packed full of your things. You’re greeted by Renjun, Hyuck, Jaemin, and Jeno first. Of course, Jisung and Chenle are seen scampering across the school parking lot with their duffel bags messily unzipped, some shirts hanging out of the top.

“Didn’t I tell you to pack the night before?” Renjun scoffs at the pair.

Chenle pokes his tongue at the older boy, wrapping his arm around Jisung’s broad shoulders. Jeno holds his hands up in the air before bellowing, “shot-gun!” straight into Hyuck’s ear- causing Hyuck to throw a whiny fit. Once our suitcases are in the back of Renjun’s car, he leans on the side of his van as if he’s waiting for something. Jaemin says, “Okay, isn’t that all? Why aren’t you closing it?”

Renjun has a wicked grin plastered all over his face, “Not everything and not certainly everyone.”

You all turn to face Mark, circles under his eyes, his hair unruly as if he hasn’t gotten sleep in 3 whole weeks. Shoot a menacing face at Renjun, you whisper at him, “You told me Mark wasn’t coming.”

Renjun gives you an evil, sinister smile, “I crossed my fingers behind my back.”

Having the extreme urge to strangle Renjun on the spot, you ponder about Renjun’s extreme lengths to reach his goal of making up. Before you can walk away from the car, Hyuck drags your hand back to the door of the van, “Ah-ah- y/n. You’re not going anywhere.”

The whole car ride to the ferry is awkwardly silent due to the fact you’re mercilessly squished between Hyuck and Mark. Personal boundaries don’t exist in the car, your legs are practically on top of each other as Mark steals side glances at you from the corner. Getting to the dock port seemed less stressful than you’d imagine it to be. Renjun had parked his van at the base garage of the ferry before unloading everyone's belongings.

Just as easy as it was to get on to the boat, it was easy getting off too. You’d make your way down to Renjun’s car, Renjun driving it down a ramp and into the pathway that opened into Victoria island. You have to admit to yourself, Victoria island looked even more gorgeous than you had remembered last time you came with your family. During springtime, all the beautiful flowers in Butchart gardens would bloom pinks and purples, the greenery would turn a lush, healthy evergreen, and the city would stay lit for the tourists. It was the perfect place to have a vacation, one with friends at that. Jaemin and Renjun booked a small cottage house for everyone to stay in, one straight out of a fairy tale storybook. The cottage ceiling looked like it was made with hay and lime-green vines, beams of cedar-wood reinforced the walls of the structure. It had a white picket fence that surrounded a small rose garden near the entrance; white lilies floating in an old, peeling fountain. Finally entering the house, you were amazed by the impeccable interior:various paintings of Victoria island, a kitchen that was big enough to seat 10, and bedrooms slacked with ivory/gold wallpaper. Like ants scattering into their units, the boys jumped on their beds that they ‘claimed’ while you and Mark stood in the middle of the hallway. Watching all of them make a clamorous reaction over who got the best room was like watching families seize their buttons during family feud. By observing them, you’ve come to realize that there were only 7 rooms instead of 8. Realizing this, you glance over at Mark who was in turn staring back at you before racing towards the end of the hall- flying to the surface of the bed. Both of you landed on it at the exact same time, faces extremely close together. Hastily, you sit up in an attempt to push Mark off the bed that you claimed first, “Mark Lee, get off my bed now!”

He incredulously stares back at you, “Your bed? This is mine!”

You exclaim, “You’re trying to take my bed now? I clearly jumped on it first!”

“No, you didn’t!”

Bickering back at forth, you and Mark don’t even realize the rest of the boys practically flailing in the doorway, Hyuck saying in a sing-songy voice, “Or.. you could shareee!”

In unison, you and Mark shout, “Hell no!”

You get up first, shoving a pillow at Mark, “Fine, you have it! I’ll room with Hyuck.”

Hyuck clicks his tongue, “Oh no you’re not, y/n. Nada. No bueno.”

Before you can argue with Hyuck or chase him out of the room for that matter, you hear Mark speak up from behind. His voice is shy and quiet, his face a shade of beet red, “You just take the bed. I’ll take the floor.”

You turn to face him as you’re about to reprimand him for such a stupid idea until you realize that it’s probably the best decision to make at the moment.

After dinner that night, everyone had settled into their respective rooms. You had changed into a hoodie and sweatpants after you had showered. You sat on your bed, texting Chan goodnight before shutting it off to charge on your nightstand. Mark had stumbled into your shared room with one pillow and a thin fabric cover-(hardly a blanket) before setting it down on the carpet. Seeing Mark in this state, it reminds you of the old days. The way that his headphones sat comfortably on his ears, his black hair matted with drops of water, and his toned frame covered with black pants and a black tee. The hollows of his cheeks make his face more prominent, his lips the color of a strawberry slice. In one swift motion, he wraps the thin cover around his body before turning on his side, “Good night, y/n.”

Unable to say anything, you shut off the lamp- casting darkness all around you. “Good night, Mark.”

You almost forget that Mark’s there in the room with you until you hear the tick of his teeth chattering and the breathy huffs from how cold it is. You sit up to take a look at his shaking figure, the thin material doing no justice as a blanket. You believe that the air bnb manager hadn’t put extra blankets or control instructions for the ac system as you had all looked for them earlier. Deciding to wrap one of the thicker blankets that’s draped over your legs, you almost trip towards Mark’s shuddering body before patting it against him. Before you turn to go back to your bed, you feel a hand curl around your fingers, Mark slightly opening his half-lidded eyes at you. “y/n?”

Pausing, you touch your hand to Mark’s cheek, “Mark, you’re freezing. You should have told me, this blanket cover isn’t any better than a piece of paper.”

Mark shifts his body closer to face you now, his hands still wrapped around yours, “i-i didn’t know.”

“Do you want more of my blankets? I’m kind of used to the cold.”

Mark says, “No, if I take them, you’ll catch a cold.”

“Mark, I’m fine, really.” You insist on letting you help him, the boy shivering from the icy temperature.

His eyes become stern, his muscles stiffening, “y/n, I said no!”

Pausing, retract your hand from Mark’s as the warmth slowly is replaced with cold air. You give him a gentle nod this time, “I-okay.” Mark sits up from his place, fingers running through his messy hair, an earbud still plugged into his left ear, “What I mean is, I don’t want you to get sick. It’d be my fault.”

Instead, you walk back to your spot on your bed, “Look, don’t take this the wrong way but, you can come warm up for a little. Just before you go back to sleep, I promise- I won’t touch you.”

In the dark, Mark’s eyes glint like swirling, black orbs as he nods at you, getting up to take a spot next to you on the bed. He leans back into the pillow by your head, the coolness of it feeling like a cold cloud. Sighing with content, he submerges his body under the warmth of the comforter, careful not to over step his boundaries with you. When Mark lies next to you, you can seem to shut your eyes. Instead, your heart beats out of your chest when you hear Mark whisper. “y/n?”

“Yes, Mark?”

He says with a heavy heart, “I miss us.”

Propping my elbow on your pillow, you turn to face him, “I miss you.”

You choke on your words, your head throbbing with dizziness when you realize what you had just admitted to Mark. You seem visibly gulp, his eyes tracing the crease where the flowery wallpaper meets the ceiling. His voice comes out shaky, “y/n..I-I like you.”

Mark’s earbud sings the words of a beautiful, familiar tune:

Said I never fall, i’d never fall and then I fell for you mhm

Back against the wall, against the wall, and against the wall, that’s how it felt with you mhm

When those words fall from Mark’s lips, all the oxygen from your lungs makes an exit and threatens to not come back in- you’re left stunned. Mark turns his face to you to see your reaction and you stare back at him, eyes widened. Before you have the chance to say anything, Mark presses his lips to yours, rising from the pillow as his nose knocks against yours lightly. You find yourself kissing him back, harder than when you kissed Chan the night of the party. The kiss is full of yearning, almost full of struggling sadness to trap the right feelings- Mark’s hand snakes a hand around your jaw in order to stabilize you. He keeps kissing you aggressively, his eyes squeezed shut in pleasure as his tongue swipes your bottom lip. You pull away first, fire thrumming in your lungs as you place your hand on his chest, “Mark, you have a girlfriend. We can’t.”

Mark shakes his head slightly, “I’m not dating Cassandra.”

You make a face at him, “What do you mean? Because if I’m a rebound, I don’t want to be.”

Mark chuckles, a smirk snaking on his swollen lips, “Trust me, you’re not a rebound. And, I meant what I said about liking you.”

“Mark, you can’t just tell me you like me and then kiss me like nothing’s happened. I saw you and Cassandra with my own eyes.”

Mark sighs before gazing back at you with his obsidian-colored eyes, his skin glowing from the moon that shines slightly through the window curtains, “I’ve liked you since the day you brought those muffins to my house. I thought you would never see me as more as a friend and I tried to use Cassandra to get over you. I never wanted to burden you if you didn't feel the same. Clearly, it didn’t work. Not even partially. I’m sorry.”

You press your forehead against Mark’s, pressing a lingering kiss to the shape of his lips as you use one hand to pull the hairs on Mark’s nape- causing him to groan before reciprocating.

You whisper to him, a beautiful sound to his ears, “Why are we so difficult? We’re such idiots.”

Placing your head on Mark’s chest, both of you collapse on to the bed, sleep washing over your minds. You hear Mark giggle before putting his right ear bud into your ear, the sound of a man’s voice humming:

One weekend in Portland, you weren’t even my girlfriend

We were walkin’ and talkin’

Then somebody said.. let's get tattoos together, something to remember

If it’s way too soon, fuck it, whatever

Give me shapes and letters

If it’s not forever, then at least we’ll have tattoos together

Mmm, ‘cause I love you

When you wake up the next morning, you and Mark are greeted by Jaemin and Renjun cooking breakfast in the kitchen as Jeno, Hyuck, and Chenle play mario kart on the old television in the living room. Jisung is setting the table with eating utensils while also stopping to look at his Nintendo switch every few seconds. Aside from reddened faces and teasing, the boys had already suspected of your making-up based on the blush that coats both of your faces. That afternoon, you call Chan on the phone through facetime, letting him know that you and Mark had made up. Chan tells him how happy he is to hear it, telling you that he’s always known how much Mark had liked you and that he didn’t hold a candle to how Mark would talk about you to the basketball team. You apologize out of worry that you’ve hurt Chan but like the gentleman he is, he tells you that you’ll always be good friends especially when he’s good friends with Mark.

The next few days are like dreams. Together, you, Mark, and the boys go gallivanting across Victoria island through the sea towns made of floating boathouses and seafood restaurants. You bring your polaroid camera with you, capturing memories of Hyuck dropping his ice cream, selfies with Jeno and Jaemin, and seagulls chasing Renjun- all in a few frames. Even one morning, all of you had the spontaneous but rather, stupid decision to get matching commemorative tattoos, each of them a different flower on your wrists to commemorate your friendship. Each afternoon meant picnics at the Goldmere Provincial Park or whale watching tours out on the cobalt waters that were foaming with white. Other days you’d all visit the aviation museum or opt to sample the best chocolate fudge at Roger’s after a small hike.

On the last night of your trip, Mark had made sure that he wanted to take you down Tiffany avenue before meeting up with the boys for dinner. He’d told you to dress nicely in which you all did, leading you by the hand down the shopping street as your tulle skirt wavered behind you. When the both of you came to a balcony that overlooked the water, the ocean looked so vast like it could swallow you into the great swirls of turquoise and aquamarine as white ocean spray crashed on the sharp rocks. The sky turned a lavender shade that bloomed into a twilight pink, the sun barely touching the tips of the mountains. Mark had placed an item in your hand from his pocket, a pair of cherry earrings he had bought in a souvenir shop when you weren’t looking. It reminded you of the song on Mark’s playlist from several nights before:

Yeah, your cherry earrings are my favorite

It looks so good I had to save it

I’ve been hopin’, prayin’ we last forever

‘Cause there’s nothing better than you and I

A week ago, you told Renjun that in any circumstance, you would never go anywhere if it reminded you of your feelings for Mark, of your friends, of everything that had happened. Now, you’re glad to be able to let go, you’re able to feel the cold wind on the cliffs- Mark right by your side. Being wrapped up in the tight security of your boyfriend’s arms, (yes, Mark had asked for real this time) along with your best friends, you’re careful to not let go of them now. There’s no place that you’d rather be.

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queensdivas · 4 years

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Wildest Notes Chapter 3

Warning now.

We’re getting a little into Cora’s backstory in this chapter and it’s gonna be dark. I know this is supposed to be a cute story. But we’re here for back stories and this one I’ve been working on for a few days instead of writing a final paper.

Genius I know!

Also if you got access to a piano or a piano app. It’s gonna make sense soon.

Also also. We gotta move this story along because I know y’all want some adorable fluff for them.

Next Chapter

Masterlist

Previous Chapter

C’mon you stupid weed! JUST! GET! OUT! OF! THE! GROUND! Yanking the weed out of the ground as I tossed it across the yard! Got you ya beast! My goodness that was a big weed that did not want to get out! My eyes drifted down to my left ankle to where the scar was almost gone all these years later. Should probably go check on Angus and make sure he isn’t going through the pantry.

I stood up as I checked on Angus who was passed out underneath the branches of the white weeping cherry tree. The best thing about getting a big dog? It just loves to sleep around and be lazy which is absolutely perfect.

When I was about to sit back down in the dirt to try to get back to gardening. But the phone began ringing as I got up from my crouching stance to walk inside my home. Angus popped up from the ground to trot his way inside the house with me, over to the fluffy rug in the living room and plop on the floor. Join him as I sat down against the wall then picked up the phone.

“Cora speaking.”

“I’m assuming you adored the Elvis Presley China?” Mama Seymour!

“They look fantastic on the shelf Mama. So I’m assuming you sent them that this is the end?”

“Yup. One more kid was about to be sent off to their new home, and I’m off to Hawaii!!” She’s been waiting for this trip about...her entire life? She had this trip planned since I can remember, some big plan to visit all the hot spots Elvis lived in and went to.

“About time you went because if I had to sit through another Hawaiian/Elvis themed party I think I would’ve gone crazy.”

“You enjoyed those parties and you know it!”

“YOU PLAYED BEACH BOY BLUES FOR HOURS! YOU WORE DOWN YOUR BLUE HAWAII RECORD SO BADLY IT WOULDN’T PLAY!” She knows I’m joking. Partially. I kid you not that freakin’ record was destroyed after that party she threw for all of us.

“Ya know you could just send me back those beautiful pieces of China.” Funny real funny. The bottom of my overalls began showing again as I tried to fix my pants again.

“You’re a lot more quiet than usual.” She pointed out as I began staring at the windows in front of me.

“Sorry you caught me right in the middle of my gardening.”

“You sure? Ya know if you ever need a break please call me from my cell and I’ll drag you to Hawaii. Listen I gotta run because the parents are here for the last one! Goodbye Cora!”

“Bye..” Before I could finish saying bye she hung up her phone. Placing the phone back on the box as Angus was sitting right in front of me with his rope in his mouth. Guess that’s the cue for his walk, and the seed pods are being put on hold.

He let go the rope leash from his mouth as I clipped it to his collar. Grabbing my keys from the small end table to open the front door. Is this a coincidence or just the universe being nice for once? Gard was literally placing the ads in my mailbox as I was looking through the screen door.

“Hiya Gard!” He looked from the box as I shot him a smile.

“Mind if I walk with ya? Need a break from the soil and Angus obviously needs the exercise. Lazy bum.” I opened the screen door as he took a step back.

“I kind of a certain way of doing things..”

“Yeah yeah yeah. And the moon is made out of cheese Gard. You gotta spice it up a little in your life and me walking with you for a few blocks won’t kill you.” I opened the screen door to walk past him with Angus sticking right by my side. I heard him sigh as he walked past me to open the gate.

“Thank you!” I smiled as we walked through the gate down the sidewalk. He kept his vision right on the sidewalk as we were in an awkward silence.

“So Gard. How long have you been living here?” I asked him as he kept looking down at the sidewalk.

“My entire life. I live with my brother Calvin.” So a brother...cool.

“The folks? Retired to Florida?”

“My parents are a few hours away.” Probably down in San Francisco.

“San Francisco?”

“East. Cool. Lotta cool places out East.” East where? Wait who am I pry?

“What about you?”

“Ummm my father passed away a few months ago in San Diego. Moved here for the job obviously.” Angus went to pop a squat as Gard went up to the next house to drop off the mail. When he came back Angus was done as we continued on our walk.

His eyes were memorized by the pavement underneath his own two feet. My eyes went from Angus as I tried to figure out what about the sidewalk made it so interesting to stare at it. He noticed as I was tilting my head back and forth with my eyes squinting or wide open.

“What are you doing Cora?”

“Trying to figure out why you’ve been staring at this pavement the entire time we’ve been walking. Am I just not getting it?” I asked him as he stopped to face me.

“Are you making fun of me?”

“No. No honestly I’m not.” I crossed my heart as I formed a tiny little smile in the corner of his mouth.

“AH! I saw that Gard! So tell me what exactly do you think about while walking around the neighborhood? Sports? Kind of surprised that I’m not seeing headphones in.”

“Usually I’m so hypnotized by the mail or the sidewalk I don’t really think about it much. I’m not a big sports person and listening to music is definitely not allowed. So..I look at the sidewalk. It becomes..like a kaleidoscope. You turn and look at it differently, it can be anything you want.” I stopped walking as he reached into his bag and stuffed one of the mail boxes.

“Like what?” He closed the mailbox and went onto the next one.

“Just a different world.” More short answers. Ya know. Mama Seymour always told us that no matter how hard and long a man tries to become an island. He will never become one.

“Can I do one?”

“Do one what?”

“Deliver the mail? C’mon just one! The world isn’t going to blow up if I put a few pieces of paper into a mailbox.” He looked so damn annoyed at me. Gard looked up and down the street then reached into his bag and gave me a tiny stack of envelopes. Gard pointed to the box as I handed him the leash to Angus. Opening the mailbox to place the envelopes inside then closing the box.

“Gard I feel so changed. I can feel the rush!” Turning around as he approached me with Angus’ leash held up.

“My job is important, you know. People communicate because of me.” If this was about eighty years ago sure.

“Used to. Well unless you’re an old lady or nostalgic young adults who like getting fun things in the mail because they’re bored.” I laughed as he began walking away.

“Oh c’mon Gard it’s a joke! You should get yourself loose every once in a while. It’s good for the soul.” I caught up with him as he looked down at the pavement.

“If anyone asks, you’re my supervisor!”

“Well then as your supervisor your stance sometimes when delivering the mail is unhealthy for your back. Not to mention your hat isn’t straight.” Gard stopped dead in his tracks and was beginning to panic.

“Gard I’m just messin’. Wait hold on.” I tossed the lead down (I know Angus ain’t goin anywhere. He’s too old for that.) I reached up to fix his hat to make sure it was even. Gard was turning into a nervous mess as I finished fixing his hat. Once finished we looked at each other for a minute as he was a complete nervous wreck. Turning back towards the pavement with his head hung down again.

“Hey hey hey! You gotta be showing me the neighborhood! Who lives in that house?” I pointed at the house that had the really big red ford that had elevated tires. Ya know. A small penis kind of guy truck.

“Mr. Stotch. Owns the deli store in town and is a big American activist.” Now that I’m noticing it is the amount of American flags around the house and so much military propaganda!

“And that house?” Pointing to the house with the overgrown grass in the yard.

“Mrs. Sancton. Works as a night guard at a prison.” My eyes widened as I looked over at him.

“Wow. Thought this was your average neighborhood. You’ve got some dude who worships guns and just across the street is someone who guards cons. What a strange world.” I could tell Gardner was completely out of his comfort zone. Oh my god I can tell he’s just wanting to make a run for the hills with no looking back. So far he’s the only person that is relatively my age group so if this is how I have to make friends then I’m fine with it. But I do have to get back soon and take a nap then get ready for work.

“I can tell that you’re completely comfortable around me. I’m gonna get going’ and take a nap before work. Say bye Angus.” We stopped walking as Angus jumped up on Gard and over towered him. Angus licked his face to then stand back on his four legs.

“See ya tomorrow Mr. Mailman!” I waved as Angus and I began walking off.

A...A...B...B..A..A..B..B...A...A...B...B....D..F#...G..

A clash of thunder roared through the cave causing it to shake a little due to the fact that it was an unsturdy cave. The only place I could hide when he would drag me there was the outside of the hole.

It was either freezing or melting all the time, the cave with nothing comfortable in between. There’s always metal buckets in the cave catching all the water..each drop in the bucket played a different tone. It turned into the only comfort as father would be in the hole for hours to even some days.

A...A...B...B...A...A...B...B..A..A..B..B...D...F#....G…

He came out of the hole to drag me out of the cave to drag me to some sort of cheap food place for him to recover. I was always told he was making us money so that one day he would be able to move away..

But even I could see through his false promise..

One day we went to the cave and I was told to sit in the hole with my father. Said me being out in the hallway would be dangerous as if someone would kidnap me. But I wasn’t near my buckets to create the wave of peace over the sounds of horror coming from the different holes.

Some sounded like they were wrestling, screaming, the sound of glass breaking, and then it ended with a loud bang. The bang would sometimes ring out

A...A...B...B..A...A..B...B…...D..F#.................G..

“Come here you little sack of shit.” He came out screaming as I looked up from the ground. He yanked me into the room with a fistful of my hair.

“Please daddy no! No!”

“You piece of garbage!” Being dragged through the cave and into the hole...the dark pit..no. no no no..

My body felt like it dropped out of the sky as I felt my hand smack against the bed stand which woke me up. I gripped the bed sheets as tight as I could, bringing it up close to me for me to start trying to calm down. My right hand gripped my shoulder as I took a deep breath. It’s okay..it’s okay..it was a long time ago..it’s just fine Cora.

I crawled out of bed to see that it was pretty late in the morning and I have to get started on pulling the weeds and getting the front of the house put together before it supposedly rains tomorrow. Trying to make sure the plants get some good fresh rain so their roots can grow into the soil.

Changing into my overalls and tossing my hair up in an extremely lazy braid. Walking into the kitchen as I grabbed an apple to quickly chow down on it before starting the lawn work. Stopping in front of the piano as I looked down at the keys..I think..I think I need to play a little before doing some manual labor.

Opening the window of the music room as I could see the sun was hidden from the amount of clouds that were beginning to approach. Guess no manual labor today for me. AS soon as I walked away from the window the rain began to pour down. Yup. No manual labor.

Kneeling down in front of the shelving where a I had peach crates filled with all my piano music and sheets. it's been awhile since I’ve played some Nocturnes. No actually we need something a little more jolly this morning to help me get the right push to start the morning.

Well forget the nocturne because I’ve found the winner! Pulling out one old one I haven’t played in a while as I sat down on the bunch then cracked my fingers and warmed up my wrist. Today is a little Chopin and it’s Raindrop Prelude. Taking in a deep breath to then slowly release it as I started to play.

Mama Seymour taught me everything I needed to know on the piano. The chords, keys, which pedal went with each type of song. She always talked about how playing the piano is the only true form of expression because it can never be misinterpreted like paintings. Though I know that people try to take apart songs all the time because we always wanna know the truth behind the notes. She might have a few wires loose but I owe that woman almost everything in my life.

The world seemed to always just kind of fly off whenever I sit in front of the keys. My body now fully relaxed as I was reaching over halfway of the song when I heard the gate opening. I got the feeling I really made him uncomfortable and out of his mind yesterday, So me staying inside today may be in his best interest.

I kept going with my foot pushing down on the far right pedal to allow the song to echo throughout the entire house. Angus came walking into the room and laid down right next to the piano as he fell right back asleep.

The last chord echoed through the house as I turned myself around on the bench to step over Angus. Should probably see what bills or junk mail I got from Gard. When I opened the door Gard was standing under the porch from the rain.

“Gard? What are you doing?” I asked him as it was pouring.

“I’m sorry. I heard you playing and I wanted to stay till the end.” He was completely soaked from head to toe as I opened the door for him to come in.

“I should get back to work.” He was about to walk off but I cleared my throat.

“If you keep walking nonstop you’re gonna get sick.”

“You actually don’t get sick from walking in the rain, Cora. Besides..rain or shine...” He stopped talking due to the face I had my eyebrow raised at him. I moved out of the way as he came inside of the house.

“Let me get you a towel Gard.” I walked into the bathroom as I came back out with a fluffy towel. Gard dropped his bag and wrapped the towel around himself.

“Take off your shoes and socks so they can dry. Nothing is worse than wet feet in wet shoes.” I pointed over to the floor. He placed his mail bag next to the door then sat down to take off his shoes.

Gard finished taking off his shoes and I reached out for his wet socks. Relax when you live with about ten to twenty kids in your life you kind of get used to the smell of socks and other pieces of clothing.

“I’ll throw them in the dryer. Feel free to go into the pantry.”

*Gards P.O.V.*

Why is she so nice? What person is this nice to their mail carrier? Does she like me? I think I’m starting to like her. She’s this sweet fun woman who's now drying my socks off from the rain. Should probably go thank her for being so nice to me.

Angus walked over to be then sat between my legs as he was waiting for me to scratch behind his ears. As I got started he had his tongue sticking out and his eyes shut tight enjoying the scratches. Till he got tired and fell asleep right in the hall.

I got up from the floor as I walked into the room where she was playing the piano to look around a little. It was a piano that was sort of red and had music sheets all over the place. There were little cubbies that had music books, sheets, and folders strung all over the place. On the other side of the wall was piles of peach crates filled with records. We're talking Elton John, Puccini, Queen, Bowie, Glenn Miller, The Drifters, and all kinds of different records. Like there was no specific pattern or anything in them.

“You can look at them. They’re not going to bite.” She told me as she sat down in front of one of the crates. Sitting back down next to her as I was looking into one of the crates.

“Do you have a favorite artist?” I asked Cora as she watched me going through her records.

“Not say I have a select favorite. For rock I’d say Queen. For Disco obviously Earth, Wind and Fire. Dean Martin is always good and of course Benny Goodman also is fantastic. But of course The Temptations are amazing. I could go on for hours about it Gard. It’s just depending on my mood.” I nodded as I placed the peach crate back into the cubby as she got up towards the piano.

“But I’d rather play in all honesty.” Cora ran her light and ran across the piano keys as I got up to stand next to her.

“What was the one you were playing when I delivered your mail?”

“Raindrop Prelude by Chopin. But it’s not my favorite to be honest with you Gard. If you’d like I can play something for ya.” She masked me as I sat down on the bench. I’m not a huge music person in any form of way. But I find listening to her playing the piano relaxing and something I would enjoy listening to time and time again. Even taking a few minutes out of the route to listen to every other day or so.

“It’s Nocturno No2 op 62. It was my first piece I did for a solo concert in college but it’s just so beautiful. Scootch.” She sat down next to me as she was going through her folders of music.

“You’re gonna have to show me your hobbies and house eventually. Doesn’t make much sense if you’re constantly coming over and I know almost nothing about your hobbies.” She stated as my eyes widened a little bit. She placed the music on her stand as I tried to get a sense of what was written on it.

Would she be interested in my stamps? What person would enjoy someone talking about their stamps? Any normal person would be bored out of their minds with someone's stamp. But..if she’s inviting me into her room, offering food to me and drying my own socks from the rain. This isn’t a normal situation...and I have no idea what I’m doing.

Her playing was more beautiful than when she was sitting before me. She looked at the keys and how I looked at the sidewalk. Completely hypnotized in playing and in her own world. It was beautiful and so peaceful. My eyes went from her fingers to watch how lightly she played the keys to her body sort of swaying with her own beat to the music. She stopped playing as she looked over to the window where two birds were sitting on the window chirping to one another.

“Guess I’m freakin Cinderella now Gard.” Laughing a little as we looked at each other for a brief moment. I should get going anyhow. I know I’m already late and being here for a few minutes is now putting me way behind.

“I should umm..get going and finish my route.” I told Cora for her smile to sort of wither away till she nodded.

“Yeah totally. You’re at work and I shouldn’t have basically thrown myself at you. Give me a second to grab your socks.” Cora popped off the bench to speed walk down the stairs. I placed the towel on the ground as she came back up with my somewhat dryer socks.

Slipping on my socks and shoes to then grab my mailbag from the floor. Opening the door and standing on her porch as the rain was beginning to slow down a little. When I was about to take a step off the porch, Angus was whimpering behind me.

“You don’t have to say bye to me. But you know Angus needs a goodbye.” The slobbering dog was standing right next to her as I opened the screen to scratch the top of Angus head. Her hand had an apple for her to wait for me to take it.

“Thank you Cora. I’ll see you tomorrow?” I asked her as she smiled again..it’s..it’s such a pretty smile. I turned around to start walking.

“Your place?” Halting as I turned around.

“Ummm. I would...umm.”

“It’s alright. My door is always open Gard. See ya later Mr. Mailman!” She waved as her and Angus shut the door.

I wanna see her again tomorrow...maybe the next day?

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kookadoodle · 5 years

Text

Boy Next Door

PLOT: Living next to the Jeons has never caused you trouble, until a certain boy with curly locks moves in

PAIRING: Jungkook x reader GENRE: fluff, suggestive smut, angst, Neighbor!AU WARNINGS: a few bad words, sexual tension and stuff WORDCOUNT: 9k A/N: this is basically my life without any of the facts but all of the feelings T.T

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Living in suburbia has never bothered you much. All through childhood, you have been used to being close with neighbors and making friends across the street with the other kids around. Running in and out of houses, playing in each other’s yards on the best swing set or trampoline and sharing the joys of childhood together has made you comfortable with socializing along with securing you friendships for a lifetime. You have always been an only child but have never felt as one. It has its perks, indeed. It has never even bothered you that the house next door is so close that you could basically just trim the hedge between and share one big garden with them. Mr. and Mrs. Jeon probably would not even mind it as they always end up chatting with your parents by the hedge anyways, inviting you all over for a cup of coffee or homemade lemonade. They are the nicest couple on the street, and they have always made sure to have cookies or cakes for you, whenever you would visit them. They do not have any children but living so closely has made it almost inevitable not to visit them sometimes. It has made you comfortable with them, and you have never been bothered by the fact that they have a perfect view right into your room. Considering you can mostly be seen from their guestroom, it has never made you feel uncomfortable since there has rarely ever been anyone staying in there. Other than that, your yard is pretty closed in, shielding you from the eyes of your peers after you and your neighborhood friends have all hit puberty and self-awareness. It is nice to have that kind of privacy at home compared to everywhere else. However, all good things must end, and the privacy you treasure is compromised one day when Mr. Jeon’s troubled nephew moves in.

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That you are unprepared is an understatement. You are going about your day as you always do and coming home to your house feels no different than it has before. You are just returning from a sleepover at a friend’s house and dropping all your stuff on your bedroom floor before opening your window to let in some fresh air. The sound of it catches someone’s attention, yet you are unaware of that. It is not until you are taking off your shirt and are left in only your bra that you look across your backyard and meet eyes with a brown-haired boy next door. He notices that you have caught him staring, so with a faded blush he looks away and makes himself busy. You use your shirt as a shield, while you move over to your closet and grab a fresh one. Watching his window closely, you put on the new one as you are sure that he is no longer looking. Who on earth is that? you think to yourself. You have not seen him there before, so he is definitely new. You figure he must be a guest of Mr. and Mrs. Jeon since he is staying in their guestroom, but it worries you. As demonstrated, it means that he has a perfect view of your room. However, it is a two-way thing, and instead, you find yourself watching him as your curiosity overtakes you. Between the two of you right now, the creep would be you. At least, he has the decency to look away, while your eyes are glued to the window. He is around the same age as you, and it makes you wonder. Normally, whenever they have guests over, they are typically older than him. Since the Jeons do not have children, you find it a bit weird for them to have a young man in their home. He suddenly peeks over at you to see if you are still there, and it surprises you enough to make you drop to the floor, trying to avoid him. You then scold yourself, knowing he most definitely saw that. Why am I like this? you question. After spending a good few minutes on your floor totally embarrassed, you finally get the courage to check on him. Unexpectedly, you find his room empty, and you get up on your feet. Please, let his stay be brief, you pray, hoping for no more surprises or awkward encounters.

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“He what!?” you suddenly burst out, taking your parents by surprise at the dinner table. “He is Hyunwoo’s nephew, Jungkook, and he just moved in with them,” your mom repeats with slight amusement from your reaction. You cannot believe it. “I thought he was just a guest,” you say, and the news makes you forget the food on your plate. “No, no, he has moved in permanently. Apparently, he is too troubling for his mother, so they decided that he should move here for a while,” she explains, while cutting her vegetables. Permanently - the word that circles in your head. The brown-haired lurker is not merely a guest, but officially your new neighbor. Just your luck. “In what way is he troubling?” you ask, finding yourself starting to worry. Please, don’t say he’s a creep, you pray internally. Not that your prayers ever work. “I didn’t ask, but I have a feeling that he isn’t really the serious type. Maybe he parties too much and studies too little,” your mom starts. “It would make sense since they do care a lot about grades, where they come from. Maybe they pressure him too much,” she adds before taking a bite. “Mom, you can’t say that, it’s prejudicial,” you argue, finding her to be too blunt with her words. You know that she cares about the neighbors and does not mean it badly, but sometimes she speaks before she thinks. Luckily, it is mostly inside the house. “You know, I don’t mean it like that, but it is not entirely untrue,” she says back. It makes your dad chuckle. “Honey, we know, what you mean,” he says kindly. “But caring for your children to do well in school is not really a race thing, it’s very universal,” he explains, reminding her to see the bigger picture. You nod at that, finding it agreeable. You look up to both of them in different ways, but you definitely got your wits from your father. Unfortunately, for both you and your new neighbor, you got your clumsiness from your mom.

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A week goes by without too much of a fuss. You barely notice Jungkook next door, since he is rarely home, and it dims your worries. You try not to spend time thinking about it, but in a boring neighborhood like this one, where nothing new ever happens, it is hard not to get curious. You have seen him a couple of times, and you have already gotten a feeling of what kind of trouble he is. Yesterday you saw him smoking out of his window, despite having been told not to by his uncle. He spends most of his time out, but when he is home, he usually either lies around on his phone or plays video games. There are stacks of soda cans by his TV, and an empty pizza box on his desk. He is a mess, really, and his looks suit him. His hair is a bit long and curly, and he always wears oversized shirts and sweats. But despite it all, (and you hate yourself for admitting it) you find him damn attractive. Scolding yourself in your head might be a way of putting it off, but it all comes back to that. He is hot, you cannot lie. But you will not let yourself give in to that and be the girl with a crush on the boy next door. Not when he is clearly not the good type. You shake your head as you realize that you are thinking about him again. Just go to sleep, you tell yourself. It is late, and you rarely function with only a few hours. You have cracked your window, letting a light breeze in with the summer warmth, yet you slightly regret it, when you hear voices outside. Hushed voices that make you unable to sleep without knowing what is going on. You get up from your bed and peek out through the blinds. On their side of the hedge, you see Jungkook heading towards his window with a girl at his heels. Having left his window ajar, he can open it up enough for him to climb inside. He then turns to help her jump up and pulls her in with him. You hear her giggling, and him telling her to keep it down with a flirtatious smirk on his face. An expression far from the shy one you first encountered. You see him close the window almost entirely before turning to her. Pulling her in by her waist, pressing her against himself, he kisses her, and she kisses him back. The sight is icky to you. The tension grows between them, and when the girl moves her hands under his shirt to undress him, you decide to step back and look away. It would be really weird to watch, and you honestly do not want to. Just knowing alone makes you feel quite nauseous. You know what is about to happen, so you close your own window, hoping to block out what is next. For a second time, the sound captures Jungkook’s attention and makes him look over at you, but he cannot see you this time. He only has a feeling that he might have woken you up.

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The next day, you are home alone and decide to clean your room. To make it bearable, you put on some music and turn the volume up high, since your parents are not home to scold you for it. The music blasts through your speakers and your open window, reaching all the way into Jungkook’s room, who is trying to sleep off his late night. Following the make-out session and who-knows-what yesterday, the girl climbed back out the window and did the walk of shame home. Jungkook then finally went to sleep despite it being almost morning, and now, at noon, he is woken up way too soon by a sound much too loud for his current liking. He sits up and looks out his window to figure out where the music is coming from, and quickly, he discovers, it is you. You do not notice him as you are busy changing the sheets of your bed. You have not thought about it bothering him, so you are entirely in your own world, dancing around to your favorite tunes. Suddenly, someone rings the doorbell. You turn down the volume a bit before making your way to the front door. Opening it up, you are surprised to see him. Jungkook. “Oh, hi,” you say friendly and slightly out of breath, yet his expression stops you from smiling. “Hi, do you mind turning down your music?” Jungkook asks determinedly, barely getting his greeting out. His eyes are puffed, and his hair is messy. From his appearance and his slight impatience, you figure that you must have woken him up from his late snoozing. “Yeah, I will. Sorry about that,” you say apologetically as it was not in your intention to bother him. You give him a short smile, and it reminds him to do the same. “Thanks,” he says forgivingly before walking away. You close the door and head back to your room, adjusting the volume a bit. You notice him coming back into his room with his window cracked, sitting down on his bed. “Hey!” you say to him, making him look over at you. “Is this okay?” you ask, referring to the music. He listens for a second, and then he gives you a thumbs up. You close the window back in, and he lies down to try and sleep a bit more. Despite finding it inconvenient for him, it could just as easily have been the other way around, so no hard feelings arise.

Later that day, when you are sitting by your desk and laptop, you notice that Jungkook is finally up. As he is sitting on his bed, scrolling through his phone, the door to his room is opened, and Mrs. Jeon comes in. Jungkook does not seem thrilled about hearing whatever she has to say. You can tell from the frown on his face. She sits down beside him on the bed, but he gets up, seeming frustrated. After exclaiming something, he leaves the room and then you hear their front door open and close behind him. Curious as you are, you rush to the kitchen to see him put in his earphones and walk off with a serious look on his face. You wonder what she said to him that triggered such a bad reaction. Knowing Mrs. Jeon as you do, you find it hard to imagine her being provocative or hurtful. It must be something that Jungkook does not want to talk about, but there are a million things it could be and no way of knowing which it is.

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Since your parents are taking a trip out of town, you decide to invite your best friends over for a sleepover one day. Today works for all of you, so you are setting everything up as you wait for them to get here. The music is on, the bonfire is prepared and the pizzas are ordered. You sit down with your matches to light the fire, but one match dies after the other without starting anything. It makes you sigh defeatedly, and you consider giving up. “How’s it going?” you suddenly hear him say. Looking to your left, you see Jungkook watching you from his window with an amused smile. You wonder how much of your struggle, he got to see. “Badly. For some reason, I can’t light it properly,” you confess, fighting the reddening of your cheeks. “Want help?” he asks, and you raise your brows a bit. “Yeah, sure,” you say somewhat relieved. “Give me a sec,” Jungkook then says and closes his window. He makes his way through his house and over to you, stepping out on your terrace, where you are sitting. You notice that he looks a bit neater today, wearing a button up and hair less messy. You wonder if he is going somewhere since he is dressed like this, but either way, he looks quite handsome. He squats down beside you, and you hand him the matches. Working his magic, it does not take long before a small fire is lit and growing beneath the wooden logs. “How are you so good at that?” you say amazed at his ability. It makes him smile humbly. “I know a few things,” he says without being too cocky. You find it interesting. “Well, thank you so much,” you say, and he nods in return. “Are you hosting something?” he asks, looking at you. The warm hue that the fire starts to emit kisses his skin beautifully. He looks so soft all of a sudden, making you forget his usual bad boy character. “Just a girls’ night, I guess,” you say, hoping it does not sound too silly. “Cool,” he says casually. “You’re welcome to join, if you want,” you suggest, yet the second it leaves you, you realize how it sounds. “Your girls’ night?” he asks with a smile of amusement. “Well,” you laugh a bit nervously, and Jungkook can tell, but he merely finds your offer sweet. “As tempting as it sounds, I actually have somewhere to be, so I have to take a raincheck on that one,” Jungkook answers with a grin. “That’s okay, thanks again though,” you say as he gets up. “You’re welcome,” he replies and starts walking back. Suddenly, he turns around again, making your eyes return to him. “I’m Jungkook by the way,” he adds, even though you already know. “I’m Y/N,” you say back from your place by the fire as you are poking at it with a stick. “Y/N,” he repeats with a slow nod as if to show you, he heard it. “Nice to meet you, Y/N… officially anyway,” Jungkook softly smiles, and you think, you might melt like one of the marshmallows for later. “You too,” you smile back before he leaves. Looking at the growing flames before you, you wonder if you will soon be calling him a friend.

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The night goes by pretty quickly, when sitting around a fire, roasting marshmallows and drinking wine. The three of you girls tell stories and talk about everything on your minds, including one mystery boy that has caught your attention. “Is that his room right there?” Jenn asks, pointing to his window less than six feet away from where you are sitting. “Yes, it’s a bit weird,” you say as you cuddle into your blanket. The embers might emit warmth, but the late wind is chiller now. “He can see everything I do in my room,” you add, finding it almost too intimate a thought. “That means you can see him too, right?” Sarah points out as she wiggles her brows, making you all laugh. “Well, since he had that girl over, I haven’t seen anything weird. He is basically just sleeping or watching TV,” you explain, trying to make the whole thing less dramatic. Ever since you shared the gossip with them, they have been waiting to hear more, yet hearing yourself talk about Jungkook makes you feel like a stalker. “I think it’s only fair that you get to see some skin since he saw you in your bra that first day,” Sarah says, and Jenn immediately agrees. “When he gets home, I’ll tell him to take his shirt off for you,” Jenn says, and Sarah gives her a high-five in approval. You eat your freshly melted marshmallow instead of commenting on it, not really knowing what to think. You would be embarrassed if she actually asked him to, but a part of you wants to see his reaction. A part of you wonders if he would do it for you if you asked. You internally scold yourself for your creeper-thoughts. The three of you suddenly go silent as you hear a car approaching, listening in on who it might be. The car door is opened and closed, and just as you hear his voice say goodbye, your eyes widen. “It’s him,” you say hushed, and the girls smile as they listen closer. The car drives off, and you hear him step towards his house. The idea of him near makes the three of you giggle like schoolgirls, and you hope that he does not hear you. He enters his room and turns on the light, making himself very visible to you without noticing it, since it is dark out. Jenn and Sarah both drop their jaws, seeing him. He truly is a sight for sore eyes. His window is closed, so he cannot hear the way that Jenn whisper-shouts at him to do a show like she is a girl at a male strip club. Jungkook runs a hand through his hair and sighs with closed eyes as if to shed the day off of him and finally relax, totally oblivious to the three girls watching him from the sidelines. You fear that he might look out and find that he is being watched by you again, so you start collecting your stuff. “We should go inside…,” you start, but Jenn interrupts you. “Look now! Omg!” she says with a wide grin, making you return your gaze to him. You see him pulling off his shirt above his head and throwing it onto the bed, revealing his bare chest and toned arms. His wavy hair falls down over his forehead as he runs a hand over his slim waist, closing his eyes again and turning his head to crack his neck. The satisfying release shows in his face as his expression softens, and you cannot help but find it mesmerizing in a way. You no longer notice the girls beside you, quietly wooing at him to keep going. You just watch him in awe, finding him absolutely breathtaking like a piece of sculpted art. At this moment you realize that you are totally fucked. Jeon Jungkook truly is troubling. “Okay, enough,” you laugh, forcing yourself out of your addictive trance. “We should give him his privacy,” you add to that, cleaning up around you. Rising from your seat causes the girls to do the same, though they want to stay put and watch the eye candy next door. “I can’t believe, you haven’t done him yet,” Sarah chuckles bluntly, and it makes you scoff. “He’s my neighbor, not a male escort,” you state back dumbfoundedly at her crass thought. With it, you whack her on the arm, making her laugh in pain. “Okay, okay,” she surrenders. You carry the stuff inside, and the girls go get their PJs from their bags in the hall. You close the bag of the leftover marshmallows and put it in the cabinet before cleaning the used tools in the sink. Realizing you left your blanket behind, you make your way out on the terrace once more to get it. Picking it up from your seat, you lift your eyes and see Jungkook as the light is still on in his room. The bonfire is out now, making your surroundings completely dark. He would have to look closely to notice you there, so you let yourself watch him for another moment alone, thinking pretty thoughts of him. He is picking at his lip, looking to be deep in thought. He then decides to turn his gaze to peek at the window to your room, stretching his neck a bit for a better view. He is looking for you, but when he sees that your lights are off, he retracts his gaze. Nodding to himself, he tables whatever he was considering in his head and walks over to turn off the light. You realize that once his lights are off, he will be able to see you, so in panic, you rush inside with your blanket and shut the door, hiding behind the curtains. You see his room go dark, and with relief, you put a hand over your beating heart to calm it down. He did not see you. You saw him, however, and the sight brings you warmth that the blanket in your arms could not.

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The next day, after the girls have gone home, you are cleaning up the house from their visit. While running a cloth over the kitchen counter, you notice that some of the neighbors seem to be out on the street, making you curious as to why. You go outside to check yourself, finding a black smoke rising into the sky just a few streets away. You see Mr. and Mrs. Jeon standing by their garage as they look at the smoke, talking to each other about the cause of it presumably. Behind them, their front door is opened by Jungkook. He zips up his hoodie and tugs his hands in the pockets as he walks out. “What’s going on?” you hear him ask his uncle, who then explains what he knows. Jungkook makes a mildly interested expression before pulling out his earphones to untangle them. As his hands are busy, his eyes wander around to eventually land on you, but he does not catch you looking at him. He only sees you watching the sky like everyone else. After what you did yesterday and almost getting caught, you are not taking any chances. To your surprise, though, you see him walking towards you anyways out of the corner of your eye. It makes you rethink yesterday, wondering if he did actually see you guys and is coming over to scold you for invading his privacy. You cross your arms, yet try to play it cool, acting as if you are unaware of him getting closer. “Should I not have left you alone with the fire last night?” Jungkook asks you as he comes to your side. You turn to meet his eyes in panic. Shit, you think to yourself. “I-- we--,” you stutter awkwardly, not knowing what to say. The expression on your face causes Jungkook to laugh. “Relax, I know you didn’t cause it, I was joking,” he says, and you realize that he is referring to the black smoke in the sky, not your stalker-moment. “Oh, that!” you laugh relieved. “Yeah, funny,” you add with a forced chuckle. Finding your reaction a little off, Jungkook tilts his head with a confused smile. “Are you okay?” he asks, making you freeze for a second. “Yeah, I’m fine. It got a little late last night, so I’m just tired, I guess,” you play it off, and Jungkook seems to buy it. After all, he does not know you that well yet. Having gotten his earphones untangled, he sticks one in his ear and unlocks his phone to prepare his music. “Nice to see you guys getting along,” Mr. Jeon suddenly says as he comes over and puts an arm around Jungkook’s shoulders. “Hi Y/N, how are you?” he asks kindly, looking at you. Jungkook seems a bit surprised at his uncle’s sudden presence, yet comfortable enough with his closeness. “I’m good, thank you,” you smile politely. “Your parents are out of town, right?” Mr. Jeon asks, and you nod at that. “We are actually visiting some friends of ours later, so maybe since the two of you kids are both alone, Jungkook could cook you guys dinner tonight?” Mr. Jeon suggests, causing Jungkook’s brows to shoot up in surprise. “I could what?” he asks as he turns to look at his uncle directly, who only meets him with a smile. “You told me that you didn’t have plans today, so unless Y/N has, it would be silly for the two of you to cook two meals, when it could be one,” Mr. Jeon elaborates with a pad on his nephew’s shoulder. “So, do you have any plans today?” Mr. Jeon asks you. You look at Jungkook to read his face, but he does not give much away. You do not know him that well yet either. “Uh, no, not really,” you say a bit hesitantly since you are unsure of what Jungkook is thinking. Mr. Jeon smiles wider at that. “Well, then it’s settled. It will be nice for the two of you to get to know each other a bit more, being new neighbors and all,” he then says, looking mostly at Jungkook, who gives him a brief nod. “Sure,” Jungkook answers with a soft sigh. “Good then,” Mr. Jeon says happily before stepping back to his wife, leaving the two of you in the slight awkwardness, he created. “Guess I’m going grocery shopping then,” Jungkook sighs again with a smile, showing his disbelief of his uncle’s intrusion. “You really don’t have to, if you don’t want to,” you tell him, offering to let him off the hook. Jungkook shakes his head. “No, it’s fine, really. He just surprised me, that’s all,” he says, scratching his head. “Okay, good,” you smile. Finally starting his music on his phone, he locks it and slides it into his pocket. “I’ll see you later then,” Jungkook says to you as he starts walking off, and you nod in return. The black smoke has turned white, meaning the fire is out, so you head back inside the house as well.

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For the first time, you are actually nervous to go to the Jeons’ house for dinner, since Jungkook is now the one cooking. You usually make no fuss of eating there but having to be alone with Jungkook causes you to try on several outfits and a crazy amount of deodorant that you hope will fade a bit. Texting Sarah and Jenn is also a bad move since their responses are to ‘put on a slutty outfit’ and ‘bring a whip, so he knows, who’s boss’. You are not sure when your friends got so crass, but it is not helping you at all. You end up choosing a normal outfit and treat the day as any other. The most normal thing is to just be normal, so you are going with that. You knock on the front door and wait for it to be answered. As the wait drags out a bit, you tap your foot against the steps, feeling your nerves coming alive under your skin. For a second, you consider coming up with an excuse and going back home, but before you get to think of one, Jungkook answers the door. Wet and in a towel. The first thing you see is his abs, and the sight steels your words away. “Hi,” he says calmly with a smile as he is drying his hair with a second towel, looking at you as if he is not half-naked right now. You tighten your posture in slight shock, doing your best to control your face. “Uh, hi,” you say and smile wider than you should. “I’m sorry, I made you wait, but I just got out of the shower,” he explains, stepping back to allow you inside. With his back turned as he leads you in with him, you cannot help but let your eyes wander down the soft curves of his toned back. How you are seeing him like this for a second time, you do not know, but you internally thank the gods for sending you this gift. Last night was one thing, but this you would call an upgrade. Up close and within reach. However, you control yourself despite your mind wondering how it would feel to run your palm over his skin. Jungkook suddenly turns around to face you, and your eyes shoot up to meet his, hoping that he did not just catch you getting lost in the view of him. “I was just about to start dinner, would you mind helping out?” he asks, seeming unaware of your acts. You nod at his request, accepting any offer to distract your mind. He leads you to the kitchen counter. “If you could start by cutting these,” Jungkook says as he places some green onions on the cutting board. Taking a knife, he aligns them and cuts through, showing you how he wants them done. “Just like this,” he says. As he is working, your gaze slips down to watch his arms flex with the movement. Being so close to him, you can almost feel his warm skin from here. “Wanna try?” he suddenly asks, and you lift your eyes to meet him. He holds out the knife for you, and you take it from him. Jungkook steps back, allowing you to take his place, and you take over for him. “While you do that, I’ll go and put on some clothes,” he says, and you hear him leave. You frown lightly at that but determine that it is for the best. It would be pretty hard to focus on anything else if he walks around in nothing but a towel around his waist. Soon after, he comes back in a white t-shirt and shorts, covering his yet slightly damp skin. Jungkook turns on the heat beneath the pot on the stove and adds the water. While waiting for it to boil, he grabs the bottom of his white t-shirt and fans himself with it a few times to cool down. “So, was girls’ night successful?” he then asks, wanting to start a conversation with you. He says it so casually that you know, he is still oblivious, which is good. “Yeah, it was great. We talked, drank wine and roasted marshmallows,” you say. “It was pretty cozy,” you add. “Did I miss out on anything?” he then asks, giving you a look. It suddenly makes you question again what he knows. “No, not really. Nothing eventful happened,” you reply, avoiding his eyes. Jungkook nods in return. As the water boils, he adds the ramen. “What about your night? Was it successful?” you ask, wanting to move the focus onto him. It causes him to bite at his lip in thought. “Uh, well,” he starts, seeming hesitant to answer. “Could have gone better,” he says with a sigh followed by a friendly smile at you. “Sorry about that,” you say apologetically. He shakes his head. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” he answers. Finishing up the cutting, you put down the knife and show it to him. “Perfect,” he says and asks for them. You hand him the cutting board with all the vegetables, and he slides them into the pot along with the seasoning. “Have you tried Korean ramen before?” he asks you when you peek down into the pot. “I’ve had instant noodles, but never like this,” you say. Standing so close allows you to smell it, and you sigh with content. “It smells so good,” you tell him with excitement, and it makes him grin. “I’m not the greatest cook, but I make good ramen, promise you that,” Jungkook states confidently. Seeing your positive response makes him feel less stressed. His worries about you not enjoying the food fades away. After setting the table, you sit down across from each other with the food between you. The steam rises up, and the scent of the dish makes your mouth water. Despite having been over for dinner at the Jeons’ before, they have always made sure to make food that you and your parents are used to. You have only tasted their Korean dishes a few times growing up, but ramen has not been one of them. Therefore, you cannot wait to give it a taste. Jungkook digs in first, and you follow his lead. Luckily, you know how to use chopsticks, so you do not feel entirely out of your comfort zone. “This is so good,” you say honestly when tasting it, and Jungkook immediately lights up with pride. He bows his head thankfully. “How did you learn to make this?” you ask before filling your mouth. “My mom has a very time-consuming job, so I’ve had to make myself dinner a lot,” he answers. You nod while you chew. “Ramen is pretty easy to make, so I’ve practiced it to perfection,” he states. You smile at his confidence, finding it endearing. “What about your dad? What does he do?” you ask. The question seems to change the look on his face. “I don’t know, really. He moved out years ago, and I don’t see him anymore,” Jungkook says bittersweetly. “That sucks,” you say back, and it makes him meet your eyes. Being so used to people feeling sorry for him, he likes the way you say it. You show that you understand but without pity. It makes him want to smile. “Yeah, it does,” he agrees with a soft chuckle. You keep on eating as he watches you, determining whether or not to share further. Wanting to test the waters, he decides to give it a shot. “Actually, I was meeting up with him yesterday, so that’s why I couldn’t hang out,” Jungkook explains, and you furrow your brows lightly, remembering his mood about it earlier. “He didn’t show up, though,” Jungkook adds. It makes you sigh with a frown that tells him you get what he is trying to say. “Well, then next time I offer you to join girls’ night, you say yes,” you tell him, making him smile. “Deal,” he grins, and the mood lightens.

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Weeks pass, and after having eaten dinner together, Jungkook and you have gotten much closer, and things are no longer as awkward between the two of you. From small chats by the mailboxes to late night walks around the neighborhood together, the two of you shape a friendship pretty quickly. You tell each other things that no one else knows, and Jungkook finally feels comfortable sharing more personal stuff with you, mainly about his parents and their terrible split. It is casual between the two of you but as natural as such a friendship can be. One day, when he is mowing the Jeons’ lawn, Jungkook offers your parents to mow yours as well. You bring him a soda, and you talk for a bit, finding out that you are both going to be at Katy’s party. The party that arrives soon after. Katy lives on the street as well and has been a close friend of yours growing up. You choose a black outfit for the night and do your hair and makeup before heading to her place. Your parents are both working night shifts, so they will not be home until tomorrow morning, meaning you can get plastered drunk and come home without being scolded for it. The party is already quite wild when you arrive, yet the first thing you do is look for him. You chose to come a bit late on purpose, hoping to find him waiting for you. However, you find a sight that is quite disappointing instead. Jungkook is sitting outside on a lawn chair, drinking a beer and smiling at a girl in a short dress. She is laughing at something he says, and it seems to amuse him. It confuses you, but you convince yourself that you have misread him. He wants to be friendly neighbors with you, nothing more. Returning inside, you shake it off and turn to your friends instead. You dance, listen to music and drink everything you can get your hands on. It does not take long before you reach your capacity and find yourself on wobbling legs with an arm around Katy’s shoulders. Katy is drunk too, which means that she is not any help in terms of balance, and you soon lose your grip and fall on your butt. You huff and wipe your hair out of your face when you feel a pair of strong arms lifting you back up on your feet. He turns you around to face him, looking at you with worry. “Are you okay?” Jungkook asks over the music and pulls your hair behind your ear with one hand as the other keeps you balanced. “Hi,” you say softly, smiling at him with stars in your eyes. Having him look back at you makes you forget the girl he was with. You just feel really happy that he is here. “Let me take you home, okay?” he says more as an order than a question. He holds you against him with an arm around your waist, leading you out of the house and onto the street. It is only a few houses down from yours, but the music fades pretty quickly, making it more convenient to talk. “Thank you for saving me,” you say, placing your head against him as you are walking, which makes it harder to do. “You’re welcome,” Jungkook chuckles while trying to keep you walking straight. He gets you inside the empty house and sits you down on your bed. “You shouldn’t drink so much,” he says yet finds it utterly amusing to watch. He kneels down before you and removes your shoes. “You should drink more,” you say back to be funny. As he tries to get you to lay down, you suddenly shoot up. “Wait! I have to remove my makeup,” you exclaim and grab your products from the drawer of your desk, where you keep them. You grab a cotton pad and douse it in makeup remover before dragging it across your face. Jungkook watches you struggle with it, smearing your makeup out instead of cleaning it off. “Come here,” he then says and leads you back to sit on the bed again. He sits down beside you and takes the pad from your hand. He has never done this before, but it seems pretty straight forward. “Close your eyes,” he says softly, and you do as you are told. Gripping the cotton pad properly, he starts to gently wipe your face with it, removing the black patches you have caused by doing it yourself. Your breathing relaxes in his hands, feeling him comforting you. Jungkook is so focused on the task that his breathing starts to match yours. “There you go,” he says quietly as he is finished. You open your eyes again and smile at him, causing him to smile back. “Now, lie down,” he says, and you do that too. He leaves the room for a second but returns with a bottle of water and some pills for the morning. Placing it on your desk within reach, he sighs as there is nothing else to do. “Get some sleep, Y/N,” he says and steps back. “Jungkook, wait!” you say, sitting up and grabbing at his shirt. He looks back at you with raised brows from the surprise, when he is halted in his step. You pull him towards you, and he ends up at the edge of your bed with your hands on him. He squats down before you to get a better look at your face, while your hands move up to find place around his neck. Oddly enough, he is comfortable with that. “Thank you for taking care of me,” you say, and he nods. “It’s okay,” he says. Jungkook is unsure of what you are doing, but he decides to go along with it. He has nowhere else, he needs to be. Suddenly, you sigh with a frown, and he waits for you to say why. “How are you so hot?” you ask out loud in frustration. Jungkook does not pick up on it at first. “Well, it’s pretty warm out, it’s summer,” he answers with a chuckle, finding the question odd but figuring that you are referring to the touch of his skin. “No, that’s not what I mean…,” you pout as he misunderstands. “I mean sexy, how are you so sexy, Jungkook?” you ask with your hands gently rubbing at his neck, and he is taken aback by the act, almost losing balance. It causes a blush to dust across his face and make him red. “You- you think, I’m sexy?” he manages to get out. The thought alone makes him smile, yet it goes unnoticed by you. “Of course, I do. And you’re sweet, too. And funny. And you cook amazing ramen,” you go on as your drunken state leaves you no filtering. Jungkook starts to laugh with his eyes crinkling. You remove your hands from him and pull back, finding it rude. “Don’t laugh, it’s not funny,” you pout further, scooting back on the bed to sit against the headboard. “I’m not, you’re right. I think it’s really sweet,” Jungkook smiles and moves to sit on the bed to face you. “Do you like me?” you ask, meeting his eyes. “I do,” he says. “Would you kiss me?” you ask again. This time, he takes a second to think. “Let me tell you this,” he says and sits closer to you. So close that you feel the mattress dip beneath you and shift the weight towards him. With his hand, he cups your face and makes you look at him. His thumb gently moves across your bottom lip as his eyes follow its movement, studying it up close. Picking back up his eyes, you are afraid to blink as you might miss it. You hold your breath, and suddenly, you feel sober beneath his gaze. “Tell me all of this again tomorrow,” Jungkook states. “and I’ll kiss you then,” he says with a soft smile at his lip. He then pulls back and gets up, allowing your breath to return to you. Standing up, he takes one last look at you before he goes. “Get some sleep, Y/N,” he says again, repeating himself from before. He then leaves you without words to speak and lips yet unkissed.

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Your hangover is not too bad. You expected worse, but the pills work pretty fast and all you feel is slight discomfort. It might have something to do with your distracted mind. All you can think about is last night, the things he did, the words he said. You cannot believe that you confessed to him in such a cheesy way, but then just as the embarrassment tries to kick in, you hear him making his promise to you. Jungkook promised to kiss you. You sit up in your bed and look over at his room through your window to see if he is there. He is not. He is gone, and his bed looks untouched. Weird, you think to yourself. He usually sleeps in, especially after a late night. It seems off. Getting up and out of bed, you decide to go and bring the mail in. That way, you can maybe see him in their kitchen. To your disappointment, he is not there either. You consider going over and asking for him, but you do not want to seem too clingy, so you decide not to. You bring the mail in and try to put the thought of him aside for now. Hours later, his room is still empty, and you have no clue of where he is. Most of all, it worries you. You cannot help but think if he maybe went back to the party last night to the girl in the short dress. You start questioning his promise, thinking it might just have been a delay. His way of rejecting you, hoping you would not remember the next morning. But you do remember, and the thought of him having been insincere with you provokes your hangover forth. You feel sick and choose to try sleeping it off.

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“Don’t you know how worried we’ve been!?” you hear someone exclaim, waking you up. You check the clock on your desk. It is 3.15pm. You look towards Jungkook’s room as the yelling is coming from there. You see him, sitting on his bed with his head bowed as Mr. and Mrs. Jeon stand beside him, Mrs. Jeon with her arms crossed. “You can’t just stay out all night and not let us know!” Mrs. Jeon says. “Your uncle has been worried sick! We both have!” she adds to that. It makes you sit up, looking over at them, and your heart drops. In a way, you are happy to see him safe, but you also feel bad that he is getting yelled at. But knowing he has not been home at all, does not put your worries to rest. Where could he have been? you think. After a few minutes, the Jeons exit Jungkook’s room, shutting the door behind them and leaving him be. He runs both hands through his hair in frustration, looking at the floor. You are not sure what you should do. You want to go to him, but what if you are the last person, he wants to see right now? You cannot know for sure. As if he reads your mind, you meet eyes with him when he lifts his head, looking straight at you through the window and across the yard. You sit still, looking at him and waiting for him to decide what he wants. Then, he gets up and walks towards the window. Standing in front of it and looking at you, his shoulders slump. With a sigh, he reaches out and pulls down his blinds, shutting you out. It hurts. It hurts a lot.

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The next few weeks are hard to get through. His blinds are always down, making you unable to see him and check if he is okay. You hear nothing. You pass him once on the street, coming home from Jenn’s just as he leaves, but he says nothing. He looks at you, then looks away. Your parents tell you that he scared the Jeons by being out all night without telling them, and that he has been moody ever since. Other than that, you have no idea what is going on, and you definitely have no idea what you did wrong. But clearly, you did something, since he is avoiding you like this. You try to shake him off, focusing on getting ready for school to start again, but it is still a month away. It is merely an effort to keep yourself busy, but the effort fails. Sarah thinks you should get a rebound guy, but you and Jungkook were never even a thing. He is not an ex. He is just the troubled boy next door. You almost manage to convince yourself of that until one night, when things suddenly change. You lie in bed, trying to fall asleep when you hear tapping against your window. At first, you think it is the rain that causes the noise, but when it plays a little melody, you realize the sound is not random at all. Sitting up in bed, you see it is him, Jungkook. He is standing outside in the rain, waiting for you to open the window and hear him out. You get up and open the window, making him step back to make room. Once the window is opened up, he can stand beneath it like it is a glass canopy. Even with him standing outside, he is still tall enough to look you right in the eyes. “What are you doing? You scared me,” you scold him. His black t-shirt is drenched, and his wavy hair is dripping from the tips. “I’m sorry, but it couldn’t wait. I’ll just get cold feet,” Jungkook says apologetically. You cross your arms at that. “Your feet look pretty cold to me,” you say, gesturing to his bare feet in the wet grass. Looking down, it makes him laugh. “I see your point,” he says with a grin, meeting your eyes. “What do you want, Jungkook?” you ask, not feeling like small talking in the middle of the night. “I want to apologize,” he says. The way he starts biting at his lip suggests that he is nervous despite his cool façade. “Will you please let me?” he asks, adding it before you speak. With a sigh, you nod. “After the party, when I took you here, you asked me to kiss you, and I didn’t because you were drunk. I really wanted to, trust me, but I didn’t want to take advantage of you,” he starts explaining, and you roll your eyes. “I’m not mad at you for that,” you say, but he interrupts you. “No, but you see, that isn’t like me at all. Normally if girls ask me to kiss them, I do. If they wake up the next morning and regret it, that’s their problem, not mine,” he says. “But with you, I didn’t want to take that chance. I didn’t want to ruin things with you, so I decided to wait,” he adds. You look downwards with a frown, still not convinced. Jungkook keeps going, hoping to make you understand. “After leaving you, I realized what I was doing, and I got really spooked. Seeing my parents split up like they did, made me cynical about love, and feeling these things for you scared me,” Jungkook explains further, and you sense his sincerity. “But how does that explain being an asshole to me over the last few weeks?” you ask, still finding it unsolved. It makes him sigh deeply as he looks at your face. He sees the hurt in your eyes, and it hurts him too. “I’m sorry, okay?” he apologizes, and you hear the crack in his voice. Looking back up at him, you see that he is tearing up. “I needed time to think things through properly and seeing you would just make me want you more. I tried to not make it about what I want,” he says. He is trying to explain things without crying though it seems to be hard to control. You did not expect him to be this emotional, but it makes you adore him a whole lot more. “I really am sorry, Y/N,” he repeats. You cup his face in your hands and use your thumbs to wipe his cheeks from the leftover rain still coating them. It makes him tear up a bit more, and you smile. “Don’t cry, please,” you plead him, and he starts laughing. “I’m sorry,” he says again. “And stop apologizing now,” you add, making his eyes crinkle. You notice how cold his cheeks feel, and it makes you pull back a bit. “Jungkook, you’re cold. Please come inside,” you say with worry. He nods at that, and you step away to allow him room to climb in. Once he is inside, he closes the window behind him. He pushes his hair back to stop it from dripping on your floor. The act shows off his toned arms, and he notices you ogling at him. “Do you mind if I take off my shirt? It’s really wet,” Jungkook says, and you nod without words. Pulling off his t-shirt, he reveals his bare chest to you. He hangs it on your radiator to dry, and you watch him in adoration. Looking back at your reddened face, he smiles at the sight. Jungkook then steps over to you and pulls you towards him by your waist. You stand flush against him as he cups your face and looks into your eyes. “Ask me again,” he says. Having been taken by surprise, you are speechless. His thumb swipes across your bottom lip, and the words leave your mouth all by themselves. “Would you kiss me?” you ask with flushed cheeks, and finally, he does.

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reverietrolls · 4 years

Text

Where to find my trolls

Akesio “Doc” Liceus: - Fleet ship, often working in experiments when not examining or patching up trolls. Enjoys sitting in quiet areas to read a book or drink some tea - The clinic he works at when he’s on Alternia - Libraries, cafés, public gardens, anywhere that can be considered a nice calm place - Arts and crafts stores

Boukyn: - Volunteering at an animal shelter - Hiking or camping - His gaming grubtube channel, if that counts? Could be watching his videos or even meeting him in any of the online games he plays - Parks, gardens, anything outdoors that has a lot of greenery - Skate parks, even though he kinda really sucks at it - Movie theaters! He loves watching whatever is new, regardless of genre

Dorian Boordo: - Walking through the streets late at night, just chillin’ - On top of buildings or high places in general - Raves and parties in general - Skate parks - Watching sports or just getting smashed on bars or pubs - Occasionally music shops - Gaming tournaments and arcades

Edanna “The Revenant”: - Performing on stages - Cafés/those little tea shops? - Alternative clothing stores from time to time, including weeb shit - Libraries and bookstores - RPG tables - Taking photos at gardens, graveyards, that kinda thing

Helles: - Space stations, including ones far from Alternia - More rarely, different planets for a short time - Hunting trolls that have a bounty on their heads, could be anywhere - Into the woods visiting a “friend”

Kharon “X” Rogzie: - His business front, sometimes - Taking jobs like contracted killings - High-end/exclusive bars, parties, fancy restaurants, etc - Watching theater (broadway style), opera houses - Just being violent to some poor lowblood passerby if he feels like it - Looking for new contacts and networking possibilities

Lucien Hiruda: - Performing in bars or restaurants - Working at troll Starbucks, usually late at night - Book clubs, poetry readings, libraries and bookstores - Walking through those streets with expensive brand clothing stores only but not really buying anything - Museums and art galleries - Bars and parties, looking to meet new people and flirt

Lugosi Hiruda: - The woods around his castle, often hunting the poor fools who end up lost - Art stores - Old libraries, looking for books he does not yet own - Historical places, taking photos or just having a Blast from the Past - Gardening supplies stores, public gardens and parks - Anywhere important people are, he’s gotta hear the latest news - Doing investigation in general, could be anywhere

Mariana Cross: - So far, the slums. Garbage lowblood neighborhoods in general - Purpleblood church grounds in the near future

Saikan Baatar: - The police precint, or doing work outside - Anime/gaming cons - Fancy restaurants and parties - Disguised at rebellion assemblies - Wine tastings

Sarnai Baatar: - Watching fashion shows - Her office - Gathering information/evidence for her cases - Idk tbh lol I haven’t used her much yet and there’s much to figure out

Tomika “Cappie”: - Watching sports at bars or, more rarely, at the stadium - Doing all sorts of jobs. Delivery, at the counter in grocery stores, that kind of thing - The woods around her hive, playing with her lusus and the other animals - Chilling at cafés - Playing basketball in public arenas

Valery: - Libraries and bookstores - His repair shop - Walking around the lowblood neighborhood he lives at, checking if everything’s okay (no one is causing trouble, no zombies around, etc) - Skate parks - Doing some gardening - Hiking/running

#ref #save #select page preview

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sunflowerstache · 5 years

Note

Hi! So your writing is super good and I was wondering if you could write something for me? When you have time of course! So I was thinking about how Harry has said that he isn't attractive, that sometimes you can tell when a person is using you (and other times you can't). I think he's really insecure and has been used a lot. Probably cries himself to sleep, jerks off a lot in hotels, spends holidays alone. Well what if he had a new neighbor who is also alone, and though he doesn't talk much to

(cont) her, she does little things sometimes like leave notes at his door with something good about him on them, or gives him flowers from her garden. And, well, what if she comes over on Christmas eve and has a plate of cookies and is wearing a hideous holiday sweater and just says “I thought you might like some company. I could use some.” And they end up spending a great night and he realizes that he’s actually HAPPY for the first time in ages?

UR JOKING this is so cute I hope this does your request justice😍

The idea that with fame comes a maginitude of personal connections and close relationships was something Harry always struggled with. Of course, he had his select close friends and loving family, but there were only so many days that they could take a break from their own lives and jobs to spend time with the lonely rockstar. There were endless amounts of people willing to fill the empty voids in Harry’s life; so many so that he had to mute his phone most days because they wouldn’t leave him alone. It was sometimes difficult for Harry to tell the difference between people he had in his life that had his best interests at heart as opposed to those who simply wanted their own 5 minutes of fame. He’s seen it countless times; someone whom he thought was in it for the long haul, only to be met with disappointment when they leaked a story or left him in the dust. So, he went with the easiest option he could think of -secluding himself. Days spent alone, other than with the soft purring of Evie at his side on the porch swing, just preparing for his next album. Life around him kept on moving, the private streets of the neighborhood were filled with the sounds of children playing in their yards, families walking their dog, and the occasional block party. Yet all of it stayed in the background of Harry’s life. Like white noise fluttering through his extraordinary yet somehow still extremely mundane life.

Except for the girl next door. She was a quite girl, spending most of her time at, what he assumed was her job, and coming home to a corgi he had learned, through playful yells across the yard, was named Bean. Upon waking up one morning months ago and seeing a young girl moving into the house next door, past experiences crept into his mind. Would she be posting everything he did? Would he be able to leave his house without being met with a flashing camera? Would she be crazed and try to break in? But, none of his fears ended up coming true. In fact, it was the exact opposite. She kept to herself, enough that it reminded Harry of himself in the way that he never saw her spending time with anyone. Of course, there was a guest or two every once and while, but she didn’t seem to mind spending most days relatively alone. The two didn’t have many interactions, but when they did, it always brought a smile to Harry’s face. A quick hello here and there. A basket of homemade cat treats left for Evie. Small notes left on each other’s doors, carrying quick and encouraging messages to one another like; “you have a lovely garden” or “you have the most beautiful cars”. Harry found the first note about two months ago, after stepping out onto his front porch, ready to head to the studio. The small creme colored note taped to his front door read “You have a beautiful voice. Thank you for sharing it with me. I hope you never stop finding inspiration.” There was always a risk to sitting outside on his deck and singing melodies to songs not yet written, but for some reason, her hearing them didn’t bother him. He spent hours at the studio that day.

It was now the middle of December, the London air holding a certain crispness that seemed to only appear around the holidays. Like the planet knew everyone was bundled up, enjoying the warmth and company brought to them by being surrounded by their loved ones. Almost everyone. Harry was no stranger to having quiet holidays, but living in a community with many large families and loud holiday parties really had brought out the worst in him. Anne and Gemma had been snowed in by the rogue storm and reluctantly wouldn’t be able to make the trip down to his house this year. So, while everyone else began their festivities, Harry was joined by the flickering light of the television. He was seated in the living room, lounged under the heated throw blanket Anne had gifted him at the start of winter, while Evie rested on his lap so she could soak up a bit of the residual heat, and the unmistakable sound of Bruce Willis echoed through the eerily decorated yet empty room.

“Well, Merry Christmas Eves.” Harry muttered, scratching the back of his cat’s ear and earning a loud purr. “It’s just you, me and Bruce this year.”

Much to his surprise that the device actually works, due to the lack of use, Harry’s doorbell rang. Hoping that the “snowed in” excuse was just that, Harry sprang to his feet, uttering a quick apology to Evie who was unsuspectingly thrown to her feet in the commotion, and ran across the living room to answer the front door. The smile of his face was comepltely forgotten as soon as he opened the door, immediately recognizing that it wasn’t who he thought and his family was, in fact, not just making up an excuse.

“Oh. It’s you.”

“Not quite the reaction I was hoping for.”

Y/N, his neighbor, was stood on his front porch, clad in a pair of Christmas themed leggings, a thick winter jacket, and a matching scarf/hat/mittens set. A large tin rested in her left hand as well as a very large bottle of Moscato in her right.

“Oh, no, um sorry! I didn’t mean it like that! Just thought maybe it was someone else.” his now warm cheeks were a stark contrast to the winter breeze that began blowing through his front door.

“Oh yeah. I had to stand in line behind all your other friends just to make it up to your front door.”

“Like you have anyplace to talk, Miss ‘I only hang out with Bean everyday.”

Y/N threw her head back in an uncontrollable laugh, slightly the sound slightly echoing through his empty yard. There was a soft white glow from the moon illuminating the back of Y/N, creating a full body halo and beautiful aura to his neighbor. As the angelic sound softened and her head came back to it’s natural resting place, she shifted her weight from left to right. “I saw that the driveway was empty and figured you could use the company. I know I could. and I have cookies and alcohol so...”

“Yeah, yeah please come in.”

It had been a few days since Harry had anyone over his house, the last people being Mitch, Sarah and Clare popping over to discuss steps on the next album. So, having YN standing in his foyer, removing her winter coat to reveal one of the worst Christmas jumper’s he’s ever seen, was a different feeling. The pair made their way into the living, where the television was still shining and Evie was cuddled on top of the heated blanket that was now piled on the floor.

“Please don’t tell me you’re one of those people who thinks Die Hard is a Christmas movie.” Y/N laughed, sitting down on the couch.

“Of course it is! John McClane has to rescue everyone from a Christmas Party! The entire movie is set on Christmas Eve and it plays Christmas music!”

“It absolutely is not! That movie could be set on any other day of the year and still be the exact same movie and the only person wearing any Christmas apparel is a dead guy!”

Easy conversation flowed between the pair, only stopping to refill their wine glasses or have uncontrollable laughing fits. It was fun to have the company, a nice change of pace in the large house. It was easy for Harry to see how kind Y/N was, how her eyes lit up when Evie cuddled closer to her side, how her attention was focused solely on him and not even bothering to glance at her phone (that sat across from her on the small wooden end table). That was something very new to Harry, being with someone who had more interest in what he was saying than the tiny portable screen. It sent a warm feeling though Harry’s body, that wasn’t caused by the burning wood in his fireplace. He enjoyed Y/N’s company, so much more than he thought he would, the two unsuspecting loners seemingly becoming instant best friends. Harry’s life brought him immense happiness; seeing his fans having the time of their lives at his shows, meeting his idols, and getting to live his dreams, but with all of these extreme highs, came the lows. The lows of not knowing your true friends, not seeing your family for long periods of time, and constantly being photographed. But in this moment, sitting in his living room with his neighbor, drinking wine and arguing over the greatest Christmas cookie, Harry had never felt happier.

tag: @emotionally-imbruised and @theasstour cause I sent them so many snaps about this blurb😂😂

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elysiumwaits · 5 years

Note

Hey! For the two words prompt, can I request some ‘moonlight dancing’, please? I’ve had a craving for some slow dancing fic for a while now and I’d love to see what you do with it. As for the pairing, some Sterek, Stucky, Merthur or even some Thor/Bruce, if any of those inspire you. Thank you. 😊

Well, the good news is that I’ve got 1800 words of sappy wedding reception Stucky for you. The bad news is that I completely dropped the ball on the “moonlight” part of the “moonlight dancing” prompt. So if you could just picture a giant moon as the backdrop for this fic, I’d appreciate it.

My timeline for this fic puts this in the February of 2019, because timelines are hard in the MCU anyway. So this would put this fic before Doris Day passed away in May. Also, I believe the MCU puts Bucky Barnes somewhere around the age of 95? So I played with that a bit.

Here, you’ll need these, make yourself a playlist and set them up for the duration of the fic:

Doris Day version: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h7j8wa9sWOE

Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j6TmogXhOZ8

Kate Smith: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dh8hW0irwpo

I refuse to link to Michael Buble because I can't stand listening to him sing thanks to many years of having to listen to one album of his on repeat at a book and toy store I worked at (and then, for two months out of the year, his Christmas album).

Nothing to tag for, no spoilers here.

I Linger On, Dear on AO3

The garden was lit by strings of fairy lights that zig-zagged overhead, and every-so-often by the big burning lanterns along the walkway that burned primarily to provide warmth to the party-goers. The moonlight did a lot for them as well, big and full above, not drowned out by the light pollution of the city. The party itself was dying down, guests having gone inside to the mansion to warm up and start saying their goodbyes, or perhaps be enticed into one more drink by their charming host and hostess.

Most of the people they knew as friends but not family would dissipate, unable to be swayed by even Tony Stark’s extensive liquor collection and insistence that they have “one more, just one more, I’m paying for all the safe transportation home, after all.” If Tony didn’t manage to convince them, Pepper just might try to ply them with the wine she can’t actually have at six and a half months pregnant.

Their family, though, won’t leave - there are rooms throughout the mansion, plenty of them, but most of them won’t be even approached until close to dawn, and it’s only a quarter until midnight now. The big celebration is over, but the smaller, more important one is just beginning, and will no doubt carry on through the night with drunken, half-sleepy conversations with people who recognize that these truly blissful moments are few and far between.

The band has packed up and gone home. Their set ended at eleven, even though Clint had to be lured away from the drummer’s kit by Natasha promising him some complicated, fancy-sounding drink that was probably just going to be vodka, V8, and Sprite. Even after he’d gotten out of the band’s hair enough that they could pack up and be tipped generously by Tony, the drummer had loudly wondered where he’d put his drumsticks, none the wiser to Clint (accidentally) taking a souvenir.

As a result, the dance floor is empty, but there’s a Bluetooth speaker built into the pavilion that Steve is taking full advantage of, albeit very quietly. His suit isn’t as neat as it was earlier, and the drink in his hand does absolutely nothing to get him anywhere even close to drunk, but he’s probably the happiest he’s ever been. He’s enjoying the peace and quiet of the garden, the distant sounds of revelry filtering through the open doors of the mansion, and the pavilion is heated so he’s not even cold.

“I want you to know that I still think an outdoor reception in the middle of February is a little ridiculous,” a warm voice says from behind him.

Steve grins and waits without turning on the bench for Bucky to get closer. He expects for Bucky to sit down next to him, but instead he gets arms wrapped around him from behind, looping across his shoulders while Bucky’s chin rests gently on the top of his head.

“That can’t be comfortable,” Steve says, grin widening. “Stealth big-spooning doesn’t count.”

“Well, if you would give me a shot at it one of these nights.” Bucky sounds amused though, and pulls away to come around the bench and stand in front of Steve.

He looks good, jacket lost and sleeves of his white button-up rolled halfway up his forearms. The tie he’d worn is undone and just hanging out of the collar of his shirt, while his hair falls halfway out of the neat ponytail he’d been wearing all day. He’s, in short, a bit of a rumpled mess, which is just how Steve likes him.

“What, you haven’t heard enough of this song?” Bucky teases when he finally hears the soft music playing through the speakers. “The Doris Day version, isn’t it? Turn it up.”

Steve obliges by reaching for his phone and turning the volume up a couple of notches, just in time to hear Doris Day sing about sweet dreams and leaving all worries behind you. They listen for the last little bit of the song before it fades away, and jazz trumpets begin. Bucky smiles then, as Ella Fitzgerald begins to sing about stars shining bright.

“Mr. Barnes,” Bucky says, and holds out his hand, “may I have this dance?”

“You may, Mr. Rogers,” Steve replies, taking his hand and allowing himself to be pulled to his feet, even as Bucky huffs out a laugh.

“I realize it’s your maiden name, but these days when I hear it I think of sweaters and the neighborhood.” Bucky falls into the lead role of the slow, swaying dance they do, metal hand placed on Steve’s waist while his other fingers curl around Steve’s. It’s a throwback to when Steve was smaller, when it made more sense for Steve to follow when Bucky was attempting to teach him to dance. Now they’re the same height, but here, Steve holds Bucky’s hand and rests his other on Bucky’s shoulder.

A faux-put-upon sigh escapes Steve. “I know, that’s why we went with Barnes. Trust me, I’ve been hearing it for years now, I don’t need it from you too.” He lets Bucky slowly move them around the empty dance floor as the soft music plays and Louis Armstrong comes in to sing with Ella.

“I don’t think the band did a bad job with it,” Bucky says after a long moment of swaying and listening. “It’s just too bad Doris Day wasn’t available, or that we didn’t get married early enough for Kate Smith or Ella Fitzgerald.”

“Doris Day is ninety-seven, Bucky,” Steve chides. “She didn’t need Tony Stark bribing her to sing our wedding song.”

“I’m ninety-seven.” Bucky chooses that moment to guide Steve into a slow spin, letting go of Steve’s waist and lifting a hand to let Steve turn, before tugging him back even closer than before. “But you probably don’t want me trying to croon into a microphone, if how you react to my karaoke is any indication.”

“Little hard to dance with you if you perform your own wedding song, Buck.”

Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong fade away, leading into soft guitar, and Bucky wrinkles his nose. “Skip this one,” he says, pausing their dance.

Steve fishes the phone out from his suit pocket, rolls his eyes and bites a smile back as he does as he’s asked. “I think Michael Buble is nice.”

Kate Smith starts to sing, piano playing to accompany. It’s not the version they heard back in the day, instead the one from the 1950s show, but Bucky starts to move them across the dance floor once more.

“He screwed up the tempo,” Bucky says. “It’s too fast. The one that came out in the 60s did too, I don’t remember what they were called.”

“The Mamas and the Papas.” Steve can’t fight the smile anymore. He’s just so ridiculously happy, and there’s a gold band glinting off the fairy lights around them on the ring finger of his left hand. “And then there’s that guy with Lily Allen. I liked that one too.”

He knows there’s a matching gold ring on a chain underneath Bucky’s white shirt. He hadn’t wanted to wear it on the Winter Soldier arm, still a sore subject more than anything, and he’d considered briefly wearing it on his right hand before finally settling on the chain he swears to Steve he’ll never take off except to shower or if he’s undercover. Steve has a chain as well - the ring isn’t terribly comfortable under the gloves of his suit, after all.

“What have you got to smile about?” Bucky pesters, like he’s not grinning too. “You’re stuck with me for good now, punk. No refunds or exchanges. You don’t even have the receipt, so HYDRA definitely won’t take me back now.”

“I think technically I stole you, so I wouldn’t have a receipt anyway.” Steve flexes his hand in Bucky’s, squeezing tight, but is careful not to do the same with the hand on Bucky’s left shoulder.

Bucky drags Steve even closer, until his hand isn’t on his waist but instead on Steve’s lower back. “You’re telling me I married a thief? I want a divorce.” At Steve’s laugh, he adds, gentler, “What are you smiling about, Stevie?”

“Sam’s best man speech,” Steve teases, even though they both know that’s not exactly what’s got him so happy. “He spent the whole time insulting you, and you still cried. You can’t fool me, Buck, I saw you wipe a tear away when you thought nobody was looking.”

“Only because he was my best man, and he spent the whole time insulting me.” Bucky’s grumbling, but he can’t hide the twinkle in his eye. “Seriously, ‘you stay on a man’s left for years and his elderly ex-boyfriend shows up to sweep him off his feet, so now you gotta move even farther to the left,’ and people laughed! Clint asked if I got a senior discount on my suit.”

Steve laughs. “You were the one that asked about a senior discount on the suit when we went to get them fitted!”

The playlist loops around, and Doris Day starts again.

Bucky leans forward, pressing his cheek to Steve’s. “What are you smiling about, Steve? What’s got you so happy?” he asks one more time, softly, like he doesn’t already know, while Doris Day softly sings that night breezes seem to whisper ‘I love you.’

“You said it yourself,” Steve murmurs, couldn’t stop grinning even if he wanted to. “I’m stuck with you for good now. No refunds or exchanges, don’t even have the receipt.” He pauses, loops his arm more firmly around Bucky’s neck. “‘Til the end of the line.”

“Sap,” Bucky says, and his voice is a little rough, just like it had been during Sam’s best man speech. “You’re gonna whip out that line every time you get the chance, huh? Just because you know it gets to me.”

“Well, it is actually a vow now. The ‘’til death do us part’ vow obviously didn’t apply to either of us, so I had to get creative.” They’ve stopped actually moving their feet, just standing and holding each other while swaying. “Now you know how much I mean it.”

“I always knew you meant it,” Bucky says. “Now stop trying to make me cry at my own wedding reception for the second time in one night.”

“Third.”

“One of those was at the altar, not the reception, it doesn’t count.” Bucky starts to pull away, but Steve holds fast. “I was supposed to come and bring you inside. They’re probably taking blackmail photos from the windows.”

“You called the official photos that we paid for blackmail too.” Steve tugs Bucky back into him, pressing himself close. “One more dance.”

“Yeah,” Bucky agrees, relaxes and starts to guide them around the floor once more. “One more. But in your dreams, whatever they be…”

Above them, the lights twinkle, and around them drifts the soft lyrics of their song, as they slowly sway together. Steve smiles, and listens to Bucky’s off-key singing, gentle in his ear.

“Dream a little dream of me.”

#stucky #fic prompt #fanfiction #writing #dream a little dream of me

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