#so I set my stuff down at a nearly full 4 person table with a vague thought we'd invite a cousin to join us

[spoonstrek]

Went to an event with my mom today with open table seating and we planned on sitting together, set our bags down at a table and everything. Just as the buffet was finished being set up she came up to me to tell me she had accepted an invitation to another table that was full and I was on my own for seating.

Then she asked if I was upset and I was like "...yeah?" She shrugged and said "oh, oh well" and walked off. Like. Bitch?

She later walked up to me again to ask again if I was upset at her leaving me to fend for myself and when I was still upset she didn't apologize and just said something like "oh well, it's done."

[bigilante]

〖 her best friend ❣ zendaya 〗

「 zendaya x gender-neutral!reader 」 ┅ 「 2.7k words 」

: a.n : back at it again with the unsolicited fics :)) i hope you guys like it 👉🏼👈🏼

⤷ : prompt : separated forcefully or for reasons you can’t control, run into each other again years later on accident.

“Do you think they’ll ever stop making headlines calling us ‘very good friends’?” You halfheartedly laughed at yet another Instagram post by some magazine that showed you and Zendaya out and about LA. “Like, the minute you hang out with any guy they’re like, ‘Oh! Date alert!’ But I’m just your ‘best friend’” You were ranting now, unable to hide the annoyance you felt.

“Why does it matter what they say?” Zendaya quizzed, her hands playing with the waist string of your sweats. She looked up at you from her slumped down position on the sofa, her faint frown making you sigh.

“Because... don’t you feel is a bit homophobic?” You wondered, placing your phone face down on top of your stomach to give her your full attention. The brunette just shrugged nonchalantly and you let out another sigh picking your phone again to close the app, “I’m gonna head out.” It was best to just leave then, you didn’t want to get in a stupid argument with her not before you were set to leave for New York the very next morning. You began to incorporate but Zendaya’s hands gripped your thighs keeping them draped over hers.

“Y/n, come on.” She said, gorgeous hazel eyes pleading at you. What exactly? You had no idea but for a second, you were about to give in however a loud ding coming from your phone stopped you. Your eyes scanned the screen and the reminder that had popped up read ‘PACK ! 4 ! N Y C !’, you sent her an apologetic glance before getting off the sofa, gathering your stuff and petting Noon goodbye.

Zendaya had stood up from the sofa too, watching your every move intently, probably trying to figure out if you were upset with her. The truth was, you didn’t know if you were upset with her or with the media, it was possible that both had a little part in your now sour mood. “See you next week, best friend. Love you.” You joked before swinging the front door open and leaving. The week was going to feel like a month, you knew, but the hope that making that simple joke followed by the declaration would ease things up was strong.

But what did hopefulness ever bring if not disappointment and heartache?

Seeing medium-quality paparazzi pictures of your girlfriend as soon as you landed from a five-hour flight wasn’t exactly the way you wanted to be welcomed to New York. You sat quietly in the back of an Uber trying not to cry as your eyes stared at the images on your phone. A series of pictures of Zendaya and Tom leaving her house, —they must had been taken that morning while you were on your way to the airport— the further you scrolled down the Twitter trends the more you felt like throwing up. Them in his car. Tom’s hand reaching for Zendaya’s jaw. Both leaning in. Kissing. Laughing.

It felt like a punch to the face, it was the worst feeling you had ever endured and the people that caused it were the last you would’ve thought could ever dare to hurt you. Your trembling hands fumbled with the settings on your account, privating it and blocking her and Tom, doing the same with Instagram followed by their numbers on your phone. It felt like doing a cleansing, the pressure in your chest easing only minimally when you locked your phone and looked out into the running city. You wanted to scream and cry, break stuff, throw your phone away and not show to work, you just wanted to go hide in your Airbnb for the rest of the week and pretend you and Zendaya never happened.

The reality was that you two had happened and it was far too hard to pretend it didn’t, your heart ached both physically and metaphorically and you hated every second of it. For that week you spent in New York no one shut up about the photos, every person you worked with had that hot, brand new ‘goss’ about the pair that had hurt you so badly.

You sat in the quiet living room of the apartment you had been living in whilst in the big city, laptop sitting in front of you as you cancelled your flight back to LA, changing the tab to the Airbnb’s one to pay for a few more days. You had been holding yourself together the whole time you were there, work keeping you busy and sleeping pills doing their magic at the end of the day but it could only go so far. Glassy, stinging eyes stared blankly at the empty inbox of your email, the cursed images projecting over the blank space and you just weren’t strong enough anymore, you couldn’t, so you cried and choked and screamed until your throat and eyes were sore; until your whole body was drained of every bit of energy.

Little by little you were sweeping your life clean of her, clearing out your phone’s camera roll, changing your number. Deleting social media was a big no for your job so filtering everything and anything that had to do with them was the only option, that and spending little to no time online. You had stopped to think one night of the what-ifs of the situation, you were aware that Zendaya’s publicist wasn’t so happy about you and her dating publically and Tom’s was obsessed with boosting the Spider-man movies at all cost, still, giving you a heads up about it would had been the right thing to do.

For a year and a half, you made yourself busy, going back and forth wasn’t something you enjoyed but it worked to avoid unwanted visits and accidental encounters. Enough time had passed, you thought as you stopped booking in so many clients across the country and settled back in your LA home. “You know what? I could go for a thick, sugary milkshake, right now.” Naomi told you as you put down your half-empty box of fried noodles on the coffee table.

“Are you serious?” You asked incredulous receiving an enthusiastic nod from your friend. “Naomi, we just had Chinese and you wanna wash it down with a milkshake?” She rolled her eyes at you when you pointed it out.

“Fine, what about Bubble U? Bubble tea is Chinese isn’t it?” She offered, her question prompting you to send her an unamused glare. “Yep, Bubble U it is, then!” Naomi jumped up, going straight to the door. Reluctantly you got up from the floor, groaning all the way to the door where you got ready to go out, “Come on! It’ll be fun!” She chirped while she pulled you out of the house. You hated to admit it but you had completely modified your life after the heartbreak, once you settled back home you barely left it, you didn’t attend parties unless it was for work or go out with your friends unless it was at any of their houses. You didn’t walk around the city that often anymore in fear of bumping into her.

“I miss this.” You sighed as you walked down Chinatown with your friend, the coldness of your drink pleasant against the palm of your hand. “Just walking around town.” You continued taking a sip of the milk tea.

“I still don’t get why you had to stop going out with us.” Naomi said inciting you to turn to look at her, “I mean, I know why it’s just… you didn’t have to stop.” She rephrased it giving you an apologetic glance. You knew how much your friends hated the idea of you not being able to be you after the whole thing with Zendaya and Tom happened but it was your way of coping with it and even though they didn’t agree with it, they supported you.

“Well, I’m outside now, aren’t I?” You nudged her side with your elbow making her giggle as she nudged you back. “Maybe this is me getting back to my old self.” Hope laced your every word as you looked around the busy street. The way the golden light of the setting sun washed over the buildings made the outing worth the risk.

LA was the second-largest city in the United States, with a population of nearly four million that one could think the chances of crossing paths with a lover-turned-stranger was one in millions, yet, there you were rooted to the pavement as your wide eyes stared at the tall and thin figure coming out of one of the many restaurants that dotted the street. “Come on, let’s go back.” Naomi said, placing her hand on the crook of your elbow ready to pull you out of there but something inside your chest told you to keep moving forward.

So you did, you started walking again letting your friend’s hand slip away from you. She was quick to follow, whisper-shouting at you that whatever you were doing probably wasn’t the best idea. The closer you got to her the more nervous you felt, it’s been over a year since you last saw her and god, was she even more beautiful than before; long legs clagged in camel coloured trousers, feet sporting her beloved black converse. Her top was white, a little see-through and you cursed at how much it still drove you absolutely crazy in the most irritating sense.

Curls tucked into an elastic on top of her head in a carefree and relaxed way, a few stubborn strands hanging out framing her face and gracing her neck. She was laughing loudly at something Darnell said, that laugh you had forced yourself to forget but the second it hit your ears, you realised how badly you had missed it. Then everything stopped, Naomi’s panicked telling off, Darnell’s chatting and Zendaya’s laughing. It all had stopped but the rambling around the four of you.

You stood in front of Darnell while Naomi stood in front of Zendaya, your friend’s usually amicable attitude disrupted by the scowl on her face as she glared Zendaya’s way only the brunette’s pupils were set on you with no apparent intention of averting. “It’s you,” She breathed out, hope barely perceivable in her tone. You only hummed at the observation, your eyes moving from hers down to her hands that were gripping the long lanyard that held her phone around her neck. Her nerves were evident then, the intensity with which she clutched it seemed to be draining the blood flow from her fingers. “I— How—” Zendaya tried to speak but failed, letting out a shaky breath. “How have you been?”

“Are you fucking kidding me!?” Naomi protested, you understood where your friend was coming from but you also needed that, you needed to speak to Zendaya just one more time to be able to finally let everything go. You needed her to confirm your theory just so you could move on and Darnell seemed to be on the same page as you for he stepped in between you and Naomi, throwing his arm around her shoulders to guide her away from you two. You heard her object some more but ultimately she complied and walked away.

“I’ve been fine. You?” You eventually spoke after short but agonising seconds of silence.

“I don’t know. There are good days among the terrible ones, so... fine, I guess?” She shrugged a shoulder. With a nod of your head, you looked past her over her shoulder to see a man pointing a camera at you, you were about to warn her when she began speaking again. “Y/n, I’m so sorry about—” Zendaya started but you shook your head no making her stop, you realised then that you did want to talk to her but not on the street in front of that many people and certainly not when there were paparazzi nearby.

“Heard the movie did well.” Your tongue betrayed your brain. Zendaya tried to speak once more but you cut her again. “I’m glad it did. Made it all worth it, didn’t it?” You faked a small smile nearly choking on the words, the anxious lump in your throat threatening to cut your airflow.

“No, It didn’t.” Zendaya denied taking a step closer to you forcing you to hold your breath with the sudden move. “I was a total asshole to you before you left, then Marla wanted me and Tom to do that for a while and I don’t even know why I did it.” She ranted in one breath.

“I upset you.” The statement earned you a furious head shake from the tall girl. “I did. I kept bugging you about the articles,” You carried on, inconspicuously your eyes started to line with tears. The more you talked the more you realised that maybe, just maybe there was a bit of blame in you too, however, that didn’t mean Zendaya was absolved from any. “You never said a thing to me about the stunt.”

“I felt like I didn’t need to, I wasn’t gonna do it.”

“But you did. The morning I left LA.” You mumbled, trying to hide from the second man with a camera that had appeared closer than the first.

“Fuck, I know it was a shitty thing to do and I’m sorry,” She took another small step forward.

“You always told me kissing in public wasn’t your thing.” You exposed, tears irrevocably breaking the surface tension and cascading down your cheeks. Flicking your gaze up at her you saw nothing but hurt and regret written all over her gorgeous face and your heart squeezed at the sight. She had never spoken about it and neither had you asked, you just felt it in your heart that she was scared of how the media would treat you both if they ever found out you were dating, you knew the times had changed but there were still closed-minded people that ran gossip magazines and could make your lives a living hell the moment they caught you holding hands in public or worst, kissing.

The murmuring around you increased, reminding you that you were in a very public place crying in front of your secret ex-girlfriend. “Fuck that.” Zendaya grumbled. One moment she was a small step away from you and the next her hands were cupping your face and her lips were softly pressed against yours. The action took your breath away instantly, still, you found yourself powerless against the familiar taste and feel of her and allowed her to kiss you as long as she wanted to in front of how many people she wanted to. There were yelps and gasps all around the two of you and you started to regain conscience and pulled away.

Wide, watery eyes staring up at the girl mere inches away from your face. “Th-there’s pap—”

“I don’t care.” She whispered before she captured your lips once more, this time deeper and twice as intensely as the first time. Your hands scurried to her waist, bringing her flush to your body as you kissed her back gladly, desperately wanting her lips to make the past year bleep out of your core memories.

The night went by slowly as if the universe was granting you more time to spend in the arms of the girl you loved. She never once let a second of silence go by you, filling it with a whispered apology and a kiss. You talked about everything the time you spent apart brought to both of you, she told you about firing her publicist right after the pictures came out, about how she understood why you had cut her off without any explanation and how bad both her and Tom felt with the whole thing.

Articles flooded the internet that very night as well as the next morning, however, neither of you knew of them right away for any device that could be hooked to a WiFi signal was rightfully turned off while you basked in the presence of each other under the covers of Zendaya’s bed.

“Spider-man Star Zendaya shares intense kiss with BFF, Celeb Stylist y/n l/n in the middle of Chinatown! Swipe to see the pictures!”

It might be 2021 but some things refused to change.

【 thank you so much for reading! ♡ please, consider reblogging and letting me know what you thought of this ♡ kit xx 】

[swcetnight]

It’s Definitely You || kth (m.) 1

synopsis:

Working as a barista in NYC has its perks, but when your ultimate dream of being on the Broadway stage tends to come crumbling down, the only thing that raises your spirits is the comfort of a complete stranger… who seems to have known you for far longer than you thought.

masterlist here

→ pairing: taehyung x barista!reader (also musical theatre performer cause I had to)

→ genre: fluff, angst, future smut | strangers(ish) to lovers… i won’t give the truth away... gonna have to read and find out for yourself ;))

-> warnings: self doubt, adorable plant names... there's really not many warnings for this chapter!

→ word count: 7,973

authors note:

alrighty everyone... here we go! (i’m so nervous) this is the first chapter of this series (which it took me 50 years to figure out whether I wanted this to be a series or a two shot... lets just say that it's gonna be a long one, so I think that a series is the best way to go)! this story is really near and dear to my heart, so 1. I really hope you enjoy it and 2. I hope all of you know how hard it was to write this into words... my goodness. now, make sure you look for clues throughout this series... there's a secret in here that won't be revealed for a while ;)) but if any of you have ideas, please be sure to send an ask while we wait to find out together! anyways, I hope you enjoy !!

authors thanks:

a HUGE thank you to @hantaev and @monvante for beta-reading and being so so supportive of me and this little (but not so little) story... y'all truly have no idea how helpful you've been and how thankful I am to be friends with both of you! forreal, y'all are the greatest and I'm sending you all my love!!

also, if you are enjoying this story, please don’t hesitate to send me an ask (on or off anon) and let me know your thoughts, feelings, theories, etc!! i would love to hear from all of you 🤍

If time-travel existed, you would be on the first time machine and head back to 2 years ago. A time when you had a free schedule and were able to go out on Friday nights. A time when you felt confident in yourself and were raring to pursue theatre. A time when you didn't have this job (cause apparently, theatre is impossible to get into) that forces you awake at 4 in the morning for the opening shift.

You can't say you don't love your Barista job because you do. Still, when your alarm wakes you from the beautiful dream of performing on the big stage, you have to use everything within yourself to crawl out of your sheet cocoon… and that is unacceptable.

What's even more unacceptable is the fact that your co-worker, Jimin, hasn't arrived at the Academia Cafe yet. You have about 30 minutes to prepare for the morning peak; brew coffees, set up the bakery items, clear the boards "coffee of the day," etc. The problem is, it takes up all of the 30 allotted minutes— and you can't start prepping early because Jimin has the keys to the cafe.

You’ve worked at the Academia Cafe for about a year now, taking a break from your endless theatre audition schedule— since that was getting you absolutely nowhere. No matter how badly you want it, nothing seems to work. No matter how many times you practice, it never seems to be good enough. Let’s just say, you took this job at the cafe because you were over the repetitive let downs.

… But here you are, with a “Jimin being late” let down.

[To: Jimin ☕️] hey, you almost here? times ticking, keys!

You stuff your phone into your winter coat pocket, the brown material catching snowflakes as they fall gently from the cloudy sky. You love this weather; it's always been your favorite. When you were little, you used to pretend to be a dragon; running all over your front yard and releasing heavy breaths that chilled in the air and spread like smoke. You don't enjoy the cold, but the entire feel of winter has you cozying up in a blanket with hot cocoa and a good book… nothing could beat that.

A buzz in your pocket catches your attention.

[From: Jimin ☕️] Hey! Look up.

Your eyes immediately lift to see Jimin smiling a few feet away, shuffling through the snow as he drags the keys out of his pocket. He's sporting a heavy blue coat that reaches down to his knees — making his short stature appear even smaller — topped with a matching blue beanie. Despite his tardiness today, you’ve always been fond of Jimin. He's like a ray of sunshine, beaming through the skyscrapers of the city and making everyone around him happy just by flashing a single smile. Honestly, you wish you could sneak some of that happiness from him and lock it somewhere safe... so you can save it for a time when you need it most.

"Your timing is impeccable." He laughs, gently placing the keys into the front door lock. "You texted me right as I was rounding the corner."

"I'm telling you, Jimin; we're always on the same wavelength."  Smirking, you make your way through the doors of the cafe, greeted by the warmth that surrounds you like your sheet cocoon did this morning, but accompanied by the smell of fresh coffee. "Except for the fact that you, my friend, are late, so now we only have twenty-eight minutes until opening."

Old, rustic book pages litter the cafe's dark walls, executing the dark academia theme flawlessly. You have to give the interior designers a hand, what with the black stools and high dark wood counters etched with different story pages. You wonder if anyone took the time to read the stories that covered the cafe; maybe the stories moved them in a personal way. Maybe there was a reason why they read them, a part of the butterfly effect of their life.

With a quick survey of the main room, you shuffle into the back to put your belongings away. "You would think it would be less busy on the streets because of the snow," Jimin calls, already working on the first batch of light roast coffee. "But unfortunately for me, that was not the case, and I nearly lost my life multiple times on the way here because of how slick it is."

A laugh emits from your lips, echoing in the backroom as you throw your apron over your head.

You begin with date labeling all of the pastry items, placing them accordingly onto the pastry cart; croissants, muffins, scones, etc. Then, you move onto organizing syrups and setting toppings along the bar where drinks are made. Bar is your personal favorite position-- since you're able to make the drinks… Plus, you're so busy that your shift goes by way faster. The sooner you're done, the sooner you get to go home and sleep.

“All set?” Jimin questions when you finish setting the steaming pitchers next to the espresso machine, tossing the rag he used to wipe down tables into the sanitizer bin. You give him a nod, taking a quick once over of the bar. “Alright,” he claps, “let's do this.”

This morning runs like every Friday morning, busy and fast. The sounds of coffee glasses clinking and the calling of customer names at the hand-off station echoes through the air.

Ahhhh, the scenery in coffee shops; the quiet hush over the room as soft jazz plays over the speakers. It’s soothing, all encompassing, and extremely helpful for motivation… You used to go to a local cafe for homework when you were still in school.

You take a breath, relaxing against the back counter as you overhear a conversation a group of regulars are having. It’s the usual small talk: the weather, families, sharing pictures of recent events. Coming up with questions of the day for customers becomes easier after knowing their stories, so you subconsciously listen in often.

Because of this, you almost don't notice the man waiting at the register, wholly delved into the neighboring conversation— only looking over when you hear your name called.

"Y/n?"

You turn your head, catching eyes with the stranger behind the counter who holds his credit card ready. The first thing you notice is that he's young, probably around your age, wearing a brown turtleneck and white slacks. His eyes are dark, standing above his perfectly sculpted nose and lips. His hair is dark as well, forehead drowning within the wavy bangs that fall over his eyebrows as he takes you in. To be completely honest, he's probably the most handsome man you've had the pleasure of seeing… is that weird? You don’t know him… maybe that is weird.

The second thing you notice is that he looks completely anxious, hands grasping the edge of the counter like there's a thousand-foot drop below him. Why is he looking straight at you while doing that? Maybe you should call Jimin to take ove-

“Is it really you?” He questions, taking you aback.

"I-" You clear your throat, walking forward to meet him at the register, "I'm sorry, do I know you?"

With an intake of breath, he releases the counter as he studies you. Was he… crying? You swear his eyes were not this bloodshot three seconds ago.

"You-" He pauses, taking another sharp breath and running a hand through his hair. If you thought he couldn't get more attractive, you were wrong. "Do you know me?"

Attractive? Yes. Psycho?...possibly.

You shake your head slightly, “I… I’m sorry. I don't-"

Wait… is he a regular? You swear you haven't seen him come into the cafe before. Shoot.. What if he is? The number one thing your boss has made perfectly clear: remember the regulars, so they come back and feel at home; recognized. Customer connection was the most important thing at the Academia Cafe… He's probably a regular.

“I’m so sorry, there're so many people that come to visit us and sometimes I forget the regulars!” You apologize. “That’s my fault… remind me of your name again?”

He's staring at you. Full-on staring, jaw slacked. Shifting uncomfortably in your keds, you eye beside you to see Jimin working away at a macchiato. You consider changing places, nearly walking over to him before the customer speaks again.

"It's- It's Taehyung."

You force a smile, nodding while he continues to stare at you. He seems a bit more hesitant, his eyes looking in different directions but ultimately falling back onto your own. Even if he tried, he couldn't hide the rosy color that spreads onto his cheeks. What was this guy's problem?

"Taehyung! Awesome, well, what can I get for you today?" You chirp, attempting to brighten up your increasing discomfort. He might have mistook you for someone else, you decide, jumping back into your customer service personality: kind and quick to the point.

Taehyung doesn't move, training his eyes on you. You've never had a man's undivided attention before, since boyfriends were never an option. When you were a teenager, you stayed home most of the time in your hometown, and the boys there were all just in it to take your pants off. You avoided them and never really caught their attention, so you can't help the uncomfortable blush that grows on your cheeks. It’s short lived though, your nerves dissolving as soon as you notice a single tear fall onto the front of his shirt.

Oh. Okay, he’s definitely crying.

"Sir..." You begin, leaning in closer to avoid drawing attention. "Is everything alright?"

"I…" The shake in his voice is evident as he puts his credit card back into his wallet, still refusing to break eye contact. “Excuse me." Without another word, he turns on his heel and rushes towards the exit, clocking a customer in the shoulder in his rush. He apologizes quickly, bowing to them before glancing behind to make eye contact with you once more.

You wish you could read minds, wondering what the hell is going through his brain… but you notice the tiniest gleam of a hopeful smile that hides on his lips.

And then he’s gone.

“I swear it was the strangest thing, Jimin.” You speak nervously, tugging at the strings of your apron and lifting it over your head. It had been busy all day, despite a quick thirty minute break when everyone had left and the cafe was suddenly a deserted island. You appreciated the busyness, it made your shift go by faster. Right now, all you wanted to do was go home, eat a fat bowl of icecream and distract yourself from the events of today with a movie. Thank God your shift was over.

“Maybe he thought you were someone else?” Jimin insists, taking a bite into the extra Blueberry Muffin you’d accidentally heated when you were distracted by the events that occurred earlier.

“Yeah? Well, I must be the spitting image because he was totally freaked out.”

“You never know, y/n. Or, maybe he just used that as an excuse to talk to you.” You could hear the smirk in his voice, throwing your rolled up apron at him harshly before you grab your belongings.

“Ha, ha, you’re hilarious. This guy looked like he had seen his ex… He was crying. I don’t think he was into me.”

“Maybe his eyes were watering from the cold wind?” He offers.

“Enough to cry actual tears?” You scoffed, “C’mon Jimin.”

He shrugs defensively, picking up his things so the two of you can head out a few minutes earlier than usual. Whenever the baristas have a chance to leave early, they take it. “If he comes back, then ask him: hey, dude, what’s your deal?”Jimin works his way through the cafe, throwing an excess chair upside down onto the table with the rest of them.

You hold your hand above your heart, which is still beating at a faster pace due to this discussion. Can hearts even beat this fast? This can’t be healthy… “Oh wow, you have such a way with words. That definitely won’t make him feel uncomfortable!”

Yes. Sarcasm coping mechanism.

“Y/n.” Jimin meets you at the door and puts his hands on your shoulders, making extra sure he has your attention. “Go home. Don’t think too much into it… He was probably high or something and mistook you for his ex that dumped him and now he’s moping through the city and getting into all sorts of trouble and he’ll forget that he even came here tomorrow morning. Okay?”

You nod slowly, exiting the cafe with Jimin on your tail. "Don't worry, y/n." Jimin adds, "He probably won't even come back." He locks the door and gives you one last thumbs up before heading in the opposite direction, calling out at the last second. “See you tomorrow!”

The forced smile on your face appears again (looks like this was a regular occurrence today), waving him goodbye.

Yeah… tomorrow.

Jimin was right. The handsome crying stranger was probably never coming back.

It has been a few weeks since you met him for the first time. Now, it feels like a distant memory. He hadn’t shown up to the cafe the day after the encounter, or the day after that, or the day after that, and eventually you’d come to the conclusion that he was probably never going to show his face again out of pure embarrassment. You can’t say you blame him. You’d be embarrassed too if you stared at and cried over a random stranger.

Still, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment... You'd kind of hoped you could figure out what his problem was, maybe ease his mind a little if you really did look like a past lover. You would make sure he knew that it wasn't you. What if he was avoiding the cafe because he literally thought you were someone else? Great… now you just feel bad.

"Y/n? Are you listening?" Jimin beckons over the phone.

"Huh? What?" You bounce back to reality, the soft comforter of your bed lying beneath you as you stare out the window. Thanks to your wonderful apartment search, you have a beautiful view of the city. Jimin had helped you find a place when you first moved here. The two of you had met when you visited to check out the first apartment options; he even took you out for a drink afterward to celebrate the first days' completion. Jimin had immediately clicked with you, as he does with everyone-- he was the kind of person to make friends insanely quickly. He must've been super popular in high school... unlike you.

"Y/n Y/l/n. I am giving you a chance to meet more people, and you're not even listening to me!" He cries, a light smack coming from the other end (probably from him slamming his hand on the table).

"Okay, okay-- I'm sorry. I'm listening now; what's up?"

With a deep sigh, he speaks again. "Party. My house. Tonight. It's not gonna be wild, don't worry... it's just a get-together with some of my friends, and you can have a few drinks if you would like to."

Gnawing at your bottom lip, you look over towards the clock on your nightstand. 5:00. "I don't know..." You begin, the bed shifting as you raise into a seated position. "I have to work tomorrow morn-"

"Already got your shift covered." He deadpans.

"What??"

"I already got your shift covered, so you have no excuse."

This sly guy.

"Who covered it?" You question, setting the audio to speaker-phone as you rummage through old text messages you haven't gone through (to prep for your "thank you for covering my shift" text message).

“Jin.” Noted.

“So…” Jimin continues, “are you coming?”

You can't even remember the last time you met new people, let alone gone to a party. Parties weren't necessarily your thing, especially with your busy schedule of workdays and auditions-- you just never had the time. You should be excited, right?

Well, you aren't.

"Jimin, I don't know… I'm not really a huge fan of parties." You mumble over the phone, picking at the lone string that popped out of its stitch on your comforter.

"Y/n, it's a small get-together, and it's not gonna be that kind of party. Believe me; it'll be really chill. It's just me, you, a few other coworkers, and some friends from my journalism class."

You chew at your bottom lip, looking over at your closet to see a single green cocktail dress that you hadn't worn in years. The memory of the dress was a good one… you had just finished up curtain call for The Addams Family and wore that dress to the after-party. It's a short sleeve, layered green dress that flows just over your knees, the same color sash tying the waist in a floppy bow. You blush at the memory of winning best dressed.

A pause, “Okay.” You conclude. “I’ll go.”

Jimin was honest about how chill it would be; soft music plays in the background as the group sits around the table playing cards. A basketball game is playing on the TV, desperate for attention as a player scores a 3-pointer, but no one is watching. Shuffling of cards is the only sound heard in the room as the game continues.

The atmosphere is calm… quiet…

“BULLSHIT.”

The immediate crumble of everyone’s mood causes the loud “HELL YEAH” that makes you jump in your seat.

"And that is how it's done, Ladies and Gentlemen." Jungkook (your fellow coworker) claps, his smile brighter than the sunset that seeps through the curtains on the opposite side of the room.

"And that's on cheating!" Jimin picks up the cards in the center of the table, gathering them clumsily back into a pile.

"It's called having skill," Jungkook replies, holding his hands up as he smirks at his opponents.

"No, it's called luck." Yoongi finalizes as he puts his hand of cards down on the table with a roll of his eyes. You haven’t met Yoongi before until tonight. He’s one of Jimin's friends from Journalism Class.

When you arrived, you decided to sit out of this round and learn to play before joining the game-- knowing you; you would've been crushed within the first minutes of playing. Card games weren’t exactly a skill of yours— board games on the other hand were where it’s at! That, and charades. For the sake of the party, a card game didn’t sound too bad this time around— so you poke at Jimin to give you the hand as he serves cards for everyone else.

“Wait, wait, wait—“ Jimin pauses, his hand disappearing beneath the table to grab his phone. “Hello?”

“I’m not Irish, so does luck really count?” Jungkook questions in a hushed whisper, nudging Yoongi in the side.

“Oh hey...yeah... it’s apartment 205.” Jimin continues.

“You’re so funny, Jk. Maybe you’ll actually become successful if you choose stand-up comedy rather than becoming a musician.” Yoongi replies nonchalantly, his cat-like eyes staring at the abandoned pile of cards before he seems to come to the decision to shuffle them himself. He gives you a small smile when you hold your hand out to signal that you’re joining in this round.

“Mhm, you can just walk on in! Doors unlocked… okay.. alright, see ya in a minute.” When Jimin's phone is down, Yoongi passes a hand of cards to him.

“Think you can beat me, Y/n?” Jungkook asks,”Since apparently these four can’t?” He motions to Yoongi and Jimin, glancing at the other two players of the game: Hoseok (Jimins other classmate) and his girlfriend, Faith.

“I think I can.” You say, smirking at the determined expression on Jungkooks face. Even if you weren’t very fond of card games, there was one thing you were even less fond of: losing.

“Mmm, might want to rethink that, but okay.” Jungkook replies. The two of you are death staring when the sound of the front door creaking open catches the attention of everyone else at the table. Jimin shoots out of his chair.

“Taehyung!”

You freeze.

"You-" He pauses, taking another sharp breath and running a hand through his hair. If you thought he couldn't get more attractive, you were wrong. "Do you know me?"

Attractive? Yes. Psycho?... possibly.

“I’m so sorry, there're so many people that come to visit us and sometimes I forget the regulars!” You apologize. “That’s my fault… remind me of your name again?”

"It's- It's-."

“Taehyung, you just missed me creaming everyone in bullshit.” Jungkook boasts. Your eyes are glued to the side of Jungkook's head, not daring to make eye contact with the source of your nerves the past few weeks.

“Oh did I?” The familiar, deep voice utters.

Okay.. you can’t help but look…

Holy—it’s actually him.

Immediate regret sinks into your soul when you see him. God, he’s even handsomer than you remember. A white woolen sweater hangs over a pair of his black pants, matched with white sneakers and accenting the head of dark wavy hair you’d been thinking about since you last saw him.

“Yep!” Jungkook continues. “And now Y/n’s about to get shitfaced too.”

The moment his eyes swiftly glance your way is the moment you crumble and turn your head back to Jungkook. You had hoped to make a sly remark, something along the lines of “in your dreams,” but you’re caught breathless from the tension in the room. The tension only the two of you are aware of. He must be tense too, right?

“I wouldn’t underestimate her.” You hear out of Taehyung's mouth, stealing a look at his face once more. He’s smirking at Jungkook, hanging his coat on the hook beside yours, oblivious of the way you’re basically dissecting his every move.

“Have you met Y/n?” Jimin questions, provoking Taehyung's eyes to fall back onto yours. This time, you don’t look away.

He doesn’t answer right away, making you more nervous than you should be— the silence deafening as you make to explain, “We-“

“No.” He states plainly, cutting you off. An innocent smile plays on his lips as he looks at Jimin and places his messenger bag beside the door.

No? Uhhh, was he not the guy who pretended to know who you were and cried in front of you without even explaining why? Nope, it’s definitely him.

“I’m Taehyung.” He calls in your direction, offering you a boxy smile and a small nod, “Don’t let Jungkook fool you. A girl pinched him when we were in grade school. He barely lasted five seconds before running away screaming.” Taehyung moved to the table, sitting beside the man he just brutally embarrassed.

“That girl was terrifying. She was way taller than all the other sixth graders. It was an unfair situation.” Jungkook protested, sinking in his chair as he shuffled the cards he held in his hand.

You couldn’t help but stare dumbly at Taehyung. Was he embarrassed of his outburst at the cafe that he just hopes you forgot about him? You guess you didn’t exactly meet each other, other than a few words exchanged before he disappeared out the door. He probably doesn’t want his friends to know about what happened. Or did he not recognize you and completely forgot about the whole ordeal?

Okay, it’s fine… totally fine.

“I’ll have to keep that in mind,” you laugh, “no more coming in late, Jk. Or I’ll have to pinch you.”

Jungkook merely rolls his eyes, taking a sip of his beer. You see the crinkle in Taehyung's eyes as he laughs, the boxy smile taking root on his face again… a smile you’ve begun to enjoy the look of.

Hey. Snap out of it. This guy is so confusing. That’s a red card.

You straighten up in your seat, catching Jimin's attention when you move towards the kitchen, motioning with your hand to signal that you’re getting another drink. You have a feeling you’re gonna need some more alcohol to get through the evening.

Jimins place is clean, every knick knack placed neatly where it belongs; accompanied by the smell of potted plants that he keeps by his windows. Little name tags are attached to the plant stems: Flo, Sprout, Bob. He names his plants. Sweet.

He, like you, has a great view of the city too, a mid-size window perched above his breakfast nook where a small potted plant (quotabley named “bean”) grows. The city is bustling below as you reach for a beer, shrugging off the fact that you hate beer, but at least the taste will distract you from Tae-

“Hey.” You hear a soft voice call from the kitchen archway. When you turn you nearly drop the bottle out of your hand. Taehyung gives you a soft smile.

“Hey! Uh.. did you want a beer, or are you a wine guy?” You question, cringing at how much higher your voice sounds at his close proximity.

“I— Sorry, neither.” He starts, shoving his hands into his pockets as he makes his way around the island. “I uh- I just wanted to talk to you about something.”

You nod slightly, “Yeah of course… what’s up?”

“Um,” he’s nervous, you notice. “I just wanted to apologize about the whole thing at the cafe a few weeks ago.. I was— not in the right state of mind.” He meets your eyes hesitantly, “you just look like someone I know from a long time ago and it kind of.. took me by surprise, I guess.”

Jimin was right. You offer him a smile, shaking your head in disbelief, “You know what, I truly thought that was the reason… It’s totally fine. I’m not who you think I am, by the way.”

A flicker of something crosses his features at your comment, something you can’t quite pick up, but he changes it quickly to a smirk. “Obviously.” He laughs, “I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable.. I’m not weird, I swear.”

“Mmm, that’s what they all say.” You tease.

He laughs, a soft sound that you want to hear over and over again. “You’ve got me there.” He takes a pause, placing his hands on the island countertop. “Let’s start over? If that’s okay? I didn’t want to mention it when I came in because I wanted us to have a fresh start.”

You push down the questioning thought of who this woman he mistook you for was, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. “That’s totally okay.. clean slate?”

“Clean slate.” He finalizes.

“Straightforward,” You add, “I like it.”

He gives you a warm smile, the same edge in the way he looks at you dances in his eyes before he breaks it off, sliding the bottle of beer out of your own hand. “Actually, I think I will have a beer. You don’t seem like a beer drinker, anyway.” He turns quickly, smirking at you before striding out of the room. “Thanks, Y/n!”

Protestations die on your lips as he disappears from the room, your beer along with him. How rude. You can’t help the smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you turn back to the cupboard, skipping the beer and pouring yourself a second glass of wine. You weren’t a beer drinker, after all.

Although you weren’t one for parties, you couldn’t help but admit the fact that you were having a good time. No, a great time. All of you are seated in Jimins living room; a plate of chips sits on the coffee table, which was the hot spot of the night (considering there’s hardly any remaining). Others in the group still have a glass of alcohol in their hands, the tipsiness evident by the slurring of their words. You had stopped yourself after half of your second glass, playing it safe since you still have to walk home after the party. You weren’t much of a drinker anyway-- your family history being the root of this decision.

It isn’t the games that made the night this enjoyable, or the food, or the movie that is currently playing over Jimin's television (which, by the way, is Moulin Rouge, because half of the room enjoys musicals, and the other half enjoys regular movies. So, you decided to settle on a movie musical). None of that matters, except the fact that you’ve never felt this carefree in a long time.

For one night, you can put aside your cafe job, auditions, and never-ending to-do lists and just have fun. Real fun. Even in the audition rooms, it has never been fun for you. It’s been nerve-wracking to a fault and always ends with a “thank you for taking the time, but we’ve decided not to accept you this time around,” or a callback, which ultimately concludes with the same grueling fate.

But this is different.

This is a group of people who genuinely want to spend time with you and get to know you… with no “not this time’s” or open-ended questions.

Especially with Taehyung. You’re surprised at how quickly the two of you seemed to hit it off, despite the awkward introduction. Now, it feels like he’s known you for years… in the best way. You’re comfortable talking to him, chatting together during the movie about the plot points or songs you find specifically endearing. You had initially planned to sit next to Jimin… but ended up next to Taehyung on the couch.

It just happened.

He enjoys musicals as well, you learn. Maybe not as much as you do, but at least he doesn’t despise them. He’s one of Jimin’s friends from their shared art class. He loves the color brown. His favorite food is watermelon. He does illustrations for Jimins journalism projects (which, in your opinion, are exceptional from the photos he showed you during the movie while the others were engulfed in the film). He wishes to pursue traveling journalism, where he draws what he sees rather than taking pictures. His whole aura is warm… like a heated blanket that envelopes you whole when you feel him shift beside you on the sofa. A small reminder that he’s still there.

Okay, you’re liking his presence way too much.

He finds romance movies corny but a guilty pleasure nonetheless. This, the reason why he agreed to watch Moulin Rouge despite the cheesiness in the beginning. In the end, it was anything but cheesy.

"Well, that was stupid." Jungkook scoffs, slamming the remote onto the neighboring loveseats' armrest. The once loud room filled with music is now quiet from the after-effects of the movie.

“I told you it was sad!” Jimin exclaims. The two of you had seen this movie before in theatres… and this was nothing compared to how the ending hit the first time. “Y/N was nearly choking. She was crying so hard when we saw it.”

An immediate blush rises onto your cheeks as you shake your head in defiance, trying to hide the tears that had been stinging your eyes for the last thirty minutes. “Who wouldn’t cry at that??”

“Taehyung probably didn’t. He never cries.” Hoseok deadpans. Ha. You can’t help but remember the tear that ran down his face in the cafe… He never cries?

With a quick look over your shoulder, you find that Taehyung is no longer seated on the couch. When did he get up? You attempt to shrug off your curiosity, pivoting back towards the chip table where only sad little crumbs remain. You were worrying way too much over a man you quite literally just met tonight… even if it felt like you’ve known him for much longer.

Taehyung eventually reappeared, stating that he had to use the bathroom— you ignored the fact that it took him a solid 30 minutes to get back to the party. It wasn’t your place to ask any questions, especially since he lifted a smile onto his face the second he reentered the room. See, y/n… nothing to worry about.

It wasn’t long before you insisted you head home, knowing that you’d curse yourself in the morning if you stayed out past the sunrise. If you did, you’d sleep through tomorrow, and that would be awful. You’ve done this a few times… and every time, you felt like you had wasted an entire year of your life.

You move to grab your purse and jacket, which are hanging comfortably on the hook beside the front door. With a small smile, you bid everyone goodnight— smiling as they resume a card game around the table at one o’clock in the morning. It’s nice to know that the group of you hit it off… now; you can look forward to plenty of get-togethers in the future.

Your mind is bustling with all kinds of ideas: picnics in central park, late-night broadway shows, hangouts at the caf-

“Y/n!” The soft calling of Taehyung's voice causes you to halt near the exit, turning on your heel to see him jogging towards you. He had haphazardly thrown his jacket over him since it’s still being tugged onto his body as he runs. His hair becomes even more chaotic in his haste… Why do you want to run your hands through it?

“Hey!” You squeak, interrupting your thoughts before they trudged down a guilty road. “What are you doing? Weren’t you going to play another round?”

He gives you a smirk, catching his breath as he holds out your house keys. “You forgot these! You were really moving fast… sick of us already?”

“Wh— oh my god, thank you!” With a quick swipe of your hand, you’re stuffing your keys into your pocket with a grateful smile. “Also, hardly.”

You admire the way his eyes light up at your confession. “Well.. since you don’t want to leave us so quickly.. how about I walk you home?” He seems almost hesitant asking, but you can’t help but applaud him for actually taking the initiative to inquire.

You shake your head, pulling the strap of your purse farther up your shoulder. “You don’t have t-“

“I want to!” He cuts you off quickly, catching you by surprise as he moves past you to open the door. He glances back, taking in your reluctant expression, “It’s not safe this time of night Y/n… You shouldn’t be alone.“

You know he didn't mean anything by that statement… But the idea of someone genuinely caring and not wanting you to be alone makes your heart swell. Jimin cares about your safety of course, but this feels… Different.

This is the reason why you allow him to walk you home.

The snow crunches beneath your feet, like a symphony that beckons you home. You’ve been feeling exhaustion seeping into your bones for the last ten minutes, but Taehyung's occasional brush of his arm as he walks beside you keeps you wide awake. He doesn’t think to apologize for accidentally touching you, but you blame it on the time of night. Delusion.

“How long have you lived in New York?” You question, wrapping your coat tighter around you to kick out the nipping air.

“About a year now,” He responds, shuffling his feet, “though it feels like way longer. You?”

“Three years.”

Taehyung turns his head towards you, eyes wide. “Wow, way to one up me.” With a teasing smile he continues, “You must know this city like the back of your hand.”

The truth is… you don’t. You came here for the sole purpose of making it on Broadway... you never really took the time to focus on anything else. Part of you wishes you had learned more, craved more, wanted more with your life—then you wouldn’t be so miserable when the one thing you do want doesn’t work out. “Yeah… kind of.”

If he hears the somber tone of your voice, he ignores it, turning against the wind as he walks backwards down the sidewalk. “It’s overrated in my opinion.”

You raise your head at this, “Why is that?”

“Everyone here has dreams… and those dreams get crushed more often than not.” He shrugs, “No one cares if you want to succeed, only if you already have.”

You stare at him for a moment, awestruck by the weight of his words. “But,” he adds, turning back towards the wind, “the ones who never give up and continue to chase that dream can become successful. Despite all of the no’s they might face, they always hold on till they hear a yes. That sounds like true success to me.”

Turning your head, you stare at the side of his face— admiring the way his hair tosses back a bit against the harsh winter winds. His words hit you way deeper than he probably realized, sinking into your chest with an overwhelming sense of accomplishment. You’ve been contemplating recently on whether or not to give up on your dream… that maybe it just wasn’t going to work out for you. You have been trying for so long, and have repeatedly been let down. There was no way Taehyung could have known, which is why his words hit you as hard as they did. Despite the hardships, you’ve been here for three years and you’ve never given up or stopped trying to chase your dream.

That was an achievement, right?

“To be honest… I've heard a lot of no’s in my three years of being here.” You speak softly, tucking a fallen strand of hair behind your ear. “Sometimes it feels like there will never be a yes… but here I am. At least I'm still working— at a coffee shop, not on the stage.”

“It’s admirable that you keep going.” Taehyung glances at you over his shoulder. “It makes you different from a lot of people who have left the city when they faced failure. It’s something to be proud of. Plus, coffee shop or big stage, you’re in New York City and pursuing your gift. It’s special.”

When your eyes meet, you smile at him, feeling a sense of victory the longer you hold his gaze.

“Don’t give up, Y/n. No matter what.” He speaks genuinely, leaning towards you to nudge you gently on your shoulder. You can’t help but laugh at his playfulness, giving him a nudge in return before your eyes downcast to your winter boots. The snow on the ground is fresh, powdery and sticking to the toes of your shoes. “Plus,” He adds, sucking in the chilly air, “you've got what others don’t have…”

This time when you meet his eye he has a serious expression, making sure he has your full attention as you round the corner towards your apartment building. His gaze is genuine, captivating… and a part of you hopes that the close proximity of your apartment wouldn’t cut this moment short. Finally, he speaks.

“You have passion.”

Taehyung's words weigh on you for the rest of your night. It started off as something simple, looking up audition songs for an upcoming off-broadway show your agent was telling you about. Then, you went to learning it. After that, putting on makeup. And finally, completely forgetting about your sleep schedule and filming an entire audition tape in your room at 2 in the morning (and you were belting… your poor neighbors). It wasn’t until four that you finally turned in for the night, not bothering to take off your makeup or get changed-- simply falling onto your pillow and blacking out the moment you hit it. You were definitely sleeping the next day away… but at that moment, you didn’t mind. Having a day off from your busy schedule wouldn’t be so bad.

“I sent in an audition tape two nights ago.” You speak confidently, wiping down the back counter that’s littered with coffee grounds. They stick to the rag like glue, tiny dots scattered along its white surface. If it weren’t for your apron,

and your expertly rolled up white turtleneck sweater, you would look alot like this rag right now.

“Did you?” Jimin questions from the bar, sleeving the cup before placing it on the handoff counter.

“Christopher! Medium cappuccino!” He calls, multitasking while he cranes his neck to still hear you.

“I did. I feel really good about this one..” You add, meeting him beside the bar as he lifts the pitcher up and down to create the latte-art of a flower in the center of the mug. You have tried sooooo many times to make latte art… and every time it ended up looking like a glob. A big, distorted snowball. Jimin was the master of latte art, always finishing it off beautifully with a whip of his wrist. The foam atop telling a story. “It was so late-- I was totally out of it… and yet I actually enjoyed myself while filming it. I just imagined being there.. In center stage.”

“I’m happy for you, Y/n!” He smiles, turning to place the hot mug next to the cappuccino.

“Caleb! Medium caramel latte!”

He was only half listening to you. The cafe was bustling, so it truly wasn’t Jimin's fault that he was sidetracked— but nothing could hold back the small smile that played at the edge of your lips. You had actually enjoyed singing for the first time in a while.. all because of Taehyung's Academy Award winning pep talk. Who knew that all you needed was for someone to tell you like it is. With a minuscule smile, you turn back towards the counter and lift the latte you’d whipped up this morning to your lips. Your distorted snowball is fully on display at the top.

Despite the busyness, the front register is deserted, giving you time to think for a moment about the pep talk... or rather, the person who gave you it.

“I think Taehyung likes you.” Jimin deadpans.

Uhhh… You nearly spit out your snowball at that— clearing your throat as you set it down slowly onto the wooden countertop. He speaks as if this is a natural conversation starter… it’s not.

“I’m sorry?” You croak.

“Taehyung.” He repeats, turning his head in your direction with a knowing smirk. “I think he likes you.”

You give him a scoff of disbelief, watching as yet another group of regulars enter through the door. “That’s not true, he just doesn’t know me… so he made an effort to talk to me.” If you weren’t studying the group, you would've seen Jimin giving you a scrutinized look.

So, now you have his attention.

“Y/n. It’s so obvious… He spent the entire night talking to you, he left moments after you did to give you your keys and he never came back. If that isn’t someone who’s interested, I don’t know what is.” Jimin is an expert at multitasking, finishing off two drinks at the same time and calling them out.

“Well, Jimin, when people don’t know each other, they get to know each other. It’s this thing called talking and becoming friends.” The sentence hangs in the air as the doorbell chimes, signaling that yet another customer has entered the cafe and into the swarm of regulars, but the two of you disregard the sound and continue on through your bickering.

“I’m just saying, Taehyung doesn’t usually talk to girls.” Jimin adds, wiping his hands off on the white rag seated beneath his espresso machine. “Even if they wanted his attention, he didn’t give it to them. I mean— he’s nice to girls, don’t get me wrong.. but he’s never talked to them like he did with you on game night. I don’t think he’s dated anyone since he got here.”

“He’s career driven.” You say quickly.

If you thought his smirk couldn’t get any wider, you were wrong. “Yeah, girls don’t know that about him— meaning he told you, and not other girls.” Jimin deadpans.

You stare blankly at him. There’s no way. No way that a guy as attractive as Taehyung would even think about looking at you like that. There’s just no way. You’ve never had a boyfriend... or even a guy friend, until Jimin. Eventually, you’d accepted the fact that maybe you just weren’t that interesting. Maybe you weren’t pretty enough. Maybe you couldn’t flirt…. okay, you definitely couldn’t flirt— but that’s besides the point.

“He’s not interested in me.” You conclude.

“He is.” Jimin counters.

“He’s not.”

“He so is.”

“He’s so not.”

“Y/n. I swear to you. He’s interested and you need to shoot your shot.” He whisper-screams, throwing the rag in his hand onto the bar.

“Taehyung is not-“

A clearing of someone’s throat from beyond the register cuts your argument short, nearly making you lose your balance when you see who the source was.

You’re fairly certain you’ve turned pale.

Taehyung stands in front of you, eyeing between the two of you with an awkward expression. God, how long has he been standing there? “I figured I should step in before the two of you start fist fighting.”

“Hey!” The shrill of your voice causes you to wince.

“Hey.” He says with a smile, folding his arms in front of him and raising his eyes to the menu above your head. You can’t help the glare you send towards Jimin, who's notably holding back his laughter as he moves to the blender, the station farthest from the register. Ridiculous.

“What can we get for you?” You ask routinely, trying not to make it obvious that you were just talking about him… and praying that he wasn’t there to hear what the two of you were talking about.

“Hmm…” He looks especially good today, wearing a brown, long coat and a brown plaid scarf around his neck. He wasn’t kidding when he said his favorite color was brown, that’s for sure. It suits him. His hair is wavy, flowing to a point just under his eyebrows with a split off center, giving you the tiniest glimpse of his forehead. “How about an americano with hazelnut, and some cream?”

“We can do that for ya!” You have to force yourself to stop looking at him, pressing the buttons to ring up his order before you forget. You nearly overlook ringing up the hazelnut syrup. Why were you so dazed? He’s already placed his credit card into the chip reader, but your foggy brain asks anyway. “Anything else?”

“Yes, actually.” He speaks as you move towards the bar beside the register. Grabbing an empty pitcher, you pour the milk inside and reach for the steamer. He drops a dollar into the tip jar, not giving you enough time to thank him for the unnecessary effort before he speaks again. “Are you free later?”

NEXT CHAPTER

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[skellebonez]

Could you write 22 “Oh, you’re just grumpy” with Monkie King and a deage MK?

OOOOH coming back to this? Yeah, I am totally up for giving this another go! MK is having a not so great time, nothing warning worthy but I do HC him not being the healthiest kid. Mild spoilers for season 2 episodes 1 and 2.

Oh, you're just grumpy.

"Noooooooo!" MK shouted, stomping his foot on the ground in anger. "I'm not grumpy, I'm mad! You can't let them leave me behind! Take me back! I'm the Monkie Kid! I have to do this myself! I-"

"You are currently physically 4 years old with all the control over your powers of that age," Sun Wukong rebutted with a soft sigh, frowning and wincing at the high pitched angered scream in reaction he received at that. That was... not the best way to go about this... He needed a different tactic.

He knelt down to be at eye level with his now even younger protégé, holding out his hand. When MK stared at it he chanced putting it on his shoulder and continued when MK didn’t shrug it off or start yelling again. “Bud, MK, it’s ok. I know you’re frustrated. You have every right to be! But we just want to make sure you’re safe until we can get you back to normal.”

This was not the kind of trouble the Monkey King expected to happen immediately before... well, put a cork on that for now. But this wasn't the kind of trouble be expected to happen regardless of time frame. How in the world anyone managed to not only curse an object in this way but find a way to slip it on his student was anyone's guess. But the fact of the matter was that MK, the Monkie Kid himself, was now physically 4 years old. Mentally, he was still the same age he was before the curse, personality and memories still completely intact... for the most part, it became clear to them very quickly that being physically a kid again came with more than just a smaller body. It came with the mood swings and heightened emotions of “kid brain” as Mei called it, when MK immediately burst into tears at just the mention of being left behind so Mei and the others could go after the demon. And then he couldn’t figure out why he was crying, whether from frustration or worry or both or why he even started, which lead to more crying out of sheer confusion, which made everyone feel very bad.

They’d managed to calm him down long enough for the Monkey King get him on his cloud and bring him to Flower Fruit Mountain in case the demon attempted to go after him like this, but that was short lived once they actually made landfall.

"But I can do this!" MK continued, pouting and tears of frustration starting to peak at the corners of his eyes once again, albeit calmer frustration. "I-I beat the Spider Queen! I can handle one demon who had to slap a bracelet on me to make me a kid to beat me, even if I'm tiny! I can kick his butt!"

"I know you can, Bud," Wukong said evenly, offering him an understanding smile. "And normally I'd let you go in guns blazing and know you could handle everything no problem now! You've more than proven you can handle stuff even I couldn't. If you were just shrunk I wouldn’t dare think you couldn’t handle this." He reached out a hand, ruffling his hair far more gently that he normally would. But still rough, rough enough to let him know he wasn't going to just treat him like glass now. "But this is a bit different. Remember what I said when Macaque was having you use your full power?” MK scowled for a second before nodding. “Using your powers like this? Could hurt you. And I don’t want to see you get hurt like that. Heck, even I would have trouble controlling my powers and probably get hurt if I was turned into a little kid monkey man, and if this happened to me I would trust you if you told me to stay safe."

"... you would?" MK asked softly, and Wukong nodded. Maybe it was a... bit of a stretch of the truth. Sun Wukong would probably need some convincing too (Great Sage title leading to Great Misjudgement sometimes, the previously mentioned Spider Queen fight a key example), but that's just one more thing he and MK had in common.

"Course I would,” Wukong said, and given said convincing that was the truth. “I trust you, MK, and-AGH!" He may be the Great Sage Equal to Heaven, but nothing prepared him for the barreling rocket that was a 4 year old launching themselves at him to hug him with all the strength of... well, himself!

"I trust you too!" MK yelled right in his ear and oh if he thought his student had a loud yell before. But that only lasted for a second before he pulled back from the hug, body limp and head rested on his shoulder as the energy seemed to sap a bit from him as Wukong stood back up and he held him on his hip instead of setting him down when he saw the bright red rings around his eyes and how tired he seemed already... Tang had mentioned that he knew MK wasn’t exactly the healthiest as a child... "But... I feel bad not doing anything..."

"Then we can do something, that's an easy fix!" Wukong laughed, and his chest warmed as he was reminded of the few children he had helped take care of or play with while on the long journey centuries ago. He was a softie, really. "No training though, I am not going to body slam you when you come up to my knees."

This apparently was the magic joke to make, making MK devolve into a fit of giggles. A testament to how this cursed object affected him, he never would have giggled at that without it. Probably... MK had an odd sense of humor sometimes. But then again, so did he!

"Actually... I think I have just the thing for us to try."

~

All things considered, Wukong probably should have expected something like this. He did tell MK that he probably didn’t have much control over his powers. And that using his powers was a bad idea. And Tang did warn him he wasn’t a healthy child. The three together were a bad combo when his powers activated with MK’s unconscious reactions to certain things...

“How you feeling, Bud?” Wukong whispered softly, rubbing his back as he laid face down on his couch. He’d barely used his powers at all, just activated his true sight to find ingredients when they were cooking without even thinking about it, but that was enough to make the kid’s head feel like it was splitting open (in symptoms that sounded like a migraine, which... yeah, he felt really bad for him, and the jolt of worry and fear that shot through him surprised him less than he felt it should). “Still bad?”

There were a few of Wukong’s monkeys hanging out on the couch, one in particular was curled up next to MK’s head. Perhaps they were keeping him company while he wasn’t feeling well and nodded off in the process.

“I think I’m ok now,” MK answered, sitting back up and leaning into the Monkey King’s side (he seemed to seek out contact a lot more like this, letting Wukong carry him to the house, leaning on his shoulder when he showed him how to prepare the snacks they were making, now this... it made him wonder just how much physical affection he got as a kid). He looked leagues better than he had just 40 minutes ago, thankfully not nearly as exhausted as he had looked before he laid down. “Headache went away... I dunno, a while ago. But I didn’t wanna get up.”

“Completely understandable,” Wukong nodded in approval, glad that he’d gotten some form of rest. He needed it after everything he had been through. “You feel like getting up now, though? I made us some lunch... dinner... not desert food! Just like I promised.”

“Yeah!” MK exclaimed, immediately jumping off the couch and making his way to the kitchen like a rocket. “How about our snacks, how much longer do they have? Do you think we did ok? Do you think the others are gonna like em!?”

“They still have well over an hour of sitting in the fridge,” Wukong laughed, following him and watching him scramble to sit on one of the chairs at the table. “But I think we did a pretty good job of making annin tofu for the first time. They already look pretty darn delicious.” The almond jelly dish wasn’t as hard as he believed it would be, and using agar even he would be able to enjoy it... once he added some peaches on top, of course! “But that’s for later, for now what do you think of your meal?” MK looked up from his bowl, a spoonful of rice and vegetables already in his mouth. Wukong couldn’t help but laugh. “I think I’ll take that as a job well done.”

The two ate their respective lunches, rice and steamed vegetables for MK and rice and fruits for Wukong, talking about what dishes they could try making together in the future. Being a monkey Wukong had a very limited pallet for what he could (and would, given other circumstances) actually eat, so brainstorming workaround for that was a great way to pass the time before moving back to the couch. They played some, shockingly not Sun Wukong related, games that he had stashed away (and he was very offended by MK’s disbelief that he had media not related to himself in his house, totally offended). The game was one of those ones with a motion controller that you had to move around to play, and MK was having a blast with it.

The monkeys also seemed to be enjoying the show quite a lot.

Before the two knew it the sun had begun to set, MK’s grip on his controller starting to weaken as he sat down on the couch and attempted to keep his eyes open. Even with his rest earlier he was exhausted.

“Did anyone... tell you anything yet?” He asked softly, once again leaning into Wukong’s side with a yawn.

“Not yet,” Wukong admitted, looking at MK’s phone for the fourth time in he hour. “Not since they told me they found out where the demon went. But that probably means they’re focused on catching him! They’re gonna get the guy, I have a good feeling about it.”

“If you say so...” MK mumbled out, the controller slipping from his grasp as he closed his eyes.

“UH.. Bud? MK?” Wukong gently nudged his student, smiling softly when he realized that he’d just fallen asleep. “OK, that game clearly did it’s job a little too well.” He made to stand up, stopping short when something tugged on his clothing. MK had an iron grip on him, holding tight to his side and not looking like he was going to be letting go any time soon.

Well... Wukong didn’t have the heart to make him let go or chance waking him up to move him... so instead he took a hair and poofed up a blanket to lay over top of MK as he made himself comfortable on the side of the couch. It didn’t take long, and it took even less time for the monkeys around the house to curl up around and on top of the duo.

It was nice... Wukong didn’t want to admit it, but he was going to miss this. Not just when MK was changed back to his normal age, but when he had to... “go on vacation”.

He felt bad, lying to his student. His kid, now that he realized he couldn’t keep from admitting that to himself. But he trusted MK, genuinely trusted him in this regard, to keep everyone in the city safe while he was gone and he didn’t want the extra stress of knowing just what Wukong was really doing to weigh him down. He knew how much MK worried, seen how much anxiety he had after Macaque and the fight with the Spider Queen, how hard it would be to keep him from following him into places that were too dangerous for him to traverse without training they hadn’t completed yet.

He... really regretted not training him more in the beginning. Regretted it more than most things he had lately. Maybe if he had he could have explained things to him better. Known that if he did sneakily follow him he would at least be in much less danger.

He couldn’t let himself be too close after this. He’d have to go back to normal, aloof, jokey, “ah you’re fine cool beans good luck bud I believe in you!” Monkey King. For MK’s sake.

As he looked down at the sleeping child curled into his side he had to make himself believe it was for MK’s sake.

Why did that feel like it was a lie?

[sunnyrinusstudies]

Going FOSS: An Intro to Open-Source software for studyblr (and also some privacy related bits)

Source for Header Image

Intro & attempt at TLDR

Hey everyone! Today I’d like to tell y’all something about Open Source Software, and also Why this should matter to you! This’ll probably be the first post of a series I intend to do, because I believe the Studyblr community, even the non-nerd folks, could really benefit from switching some things out in their digital environment. Since this is a long post, I attempted to summarise it below, please do read on if you have the spoons tho!

TLDR?

FOSS stands for “Free and Open Source Software” the “free” part doesn’t necessarily mean it’s free as in free pizza, but mostly means free as in freedom.

There’s a humongous amount of variants on this concept, but the core of FOSS specifically is the four freedoms:

1. To run the program however you want and for whatever you want

2. To study how the program works and to change it in whatever way you want

3. To be able to share it with whomever you feel like

4. To be able to share your modified version with whomever you want

There’s a whole host of software licenses built around these concepts, you can check those out at the Open Source Initiative website, or at Choose A License. Both have a good summary of what they all stand for.

Open Source software is used for a lot of products, nearly every single webserver is an Apache Linux server, Google chrome is built on top of their open source chromium (google is still the devil, but y’know, it’s an example), and even deep deep down, Apple computers run on top of a Linux Kernel. Many more can be listed, but I won’t do that otherwise this isn’t a TLDR anymore.

Now, Why is this important for you? The Open Source Initiative summed it up real nicely already, but heres a short paraphrase:

Control & Security. If software is open source then you can check if it really works the way it does, and to make sure it’s not spying on you. Even if you don’t have the skills for it, someone else who does will be able to check. Also if you don’t like how something works in a program, then you’ll be able to change it or find someone else’s changed version that you like more.

Training. People who want to learn programming can use the code to see what makes programs tick, as well as use it as a guide for their own projects.

Stability. Because everything’s out in the open, that means someone else can take up maintaining a project or make a successor of it, in case the original developers suddenly quit working on it. This is especially important when it’s software that’s absolutely critical for certain tasks.

Community. It’s not just one program. It’s a lot of people working together to make, test, use, and promote a project they really love. Lots of projects end up with a dedicated fanbase that helps support the developers in continuing to work on the software.

I’d like to add one more tho: Privacy, which ties in a lot with the security part. Nowadays with protests going on and everything being online due to the pandemic, folks have been and will be confronted much more with the impact of privacy, and lack thereof. Open Source software means that if any company or group tries to spy on you, then you and anyone who feels like checking, will be able to know and take action on it. Here’s the EFF page on privacy and why it should matter to you

If that got your attention then read on past the readmore button! Or, if nothing else maybe check out the Free and Open Source Software portal on Wikipedia? Or maybe the resources page of the Open Source Initiative?

Terminology: Let’s get that out of the way first

Open Source: The source code that a program is made up of is freely accessible, anyone can look at it and check whether it works well enough or to make sure it doesn’t spy on you.

FOSS: Free and Open Source Software. This doesn’t mean that you don’t need to pay for it, it’s free as in freedom and free speech, not free pizza.

There are four freedoms associated with FOSS:

The freedom to run the program as you wish, for any purpose (freedom 0).

The freedom to study how the program works, and change it so it does your computing as you wish (freedom 1). Access to the source code is a precondition for this.

The freedom to redistribute copies so you can help others (freedom 2).

The freedom to distribute copies of your modified versions to others (freedom 3).

By doing this you can give the whole community a chance to benefit from your changes. Access to the source code is a precondition for this.

FLOSS: Free and Libre Open Source Software. This time it is “free” as in free pizza. The “libre” is french for “free” as in freedom.

GRATIS: Sometimes people use this word to mean “free” as in free pizza. Usually alongside “FOSS”

Licenses : A license is something that tells others what they can or cannot do with your code. Licenses also apply to art and literature, those are copyright licenses. There are many different software licenses and I’m not going to be able to list them all.

The biggest players however are:

Apache License 2.0

The 3-Clause BSD License

GNU General Public License (also known as GPL)

MIT License

Mozilla Public License 2.0

There’s even more and you can find a list of them Here on the Open Source Initiative site There’s so many licenses that there’s even a Choose A License site, where you can pick a license depending on what you want it to achieve

Who and/or what even uses open source software?

You don’t need to be some nerd to benefit from Open Source software, in fact, you’re using open source software right now! The biggest example is the whole entire internet. Websites are stored on servers, and nearly every single webserver is a Linux server. The second biggest browser Firefox is open source, and even google chrome is built on top of “chromium” an open source base. If you dont use an iPhone, then you’re probably on an Android phone. Guess what? Android is part of the Android Open Source Project, which is then built upon a GNU/Linux base. All Open Source. Chromebooks? Built on top of a Linux kernel (like a non-patented engine you could put into any motor vehicle you’d like). Heck, even Apple computers are, at their core, built on top of a Linux kernel.

Neat apps you may wanna check out!

I’ve made a little list of apps that might be especially useful for studyblr folks, but depending on how well this post does I’ll probably make some more posts for specific apps.

TiddlyWiki, has a bajillion different ways to organise your thoughts, and also a lot of variant builds out there. Check out their table of contents if you feel lost! There’s versions available for most big browsers, as well as windows, linux, mac, android, and iOS.

AnyType, is an app that looks and almost exactly like notion, but is much more decentralised. They’re currently still in development but if you want to support them, sign up for early access and give them some feedback so they know what works and doesn’t! They’re still in closed alpha, but are intending to give beta access to about 100 folks at a time throughout 2021, so please sign up if this looks interesting to you!

Trilium Notes, is slightly more like a “notebook”, however you can arrange your notes in nearly infinitely deep folders. You can use things like Relation Maps & Link Maps to visualise your notes and how they go together. There’s even more they do and I just cant list it all, so go check out their stuff for a more comprehensive overview! Works on windows, linux, and (unsupported) mac

LibreOffice and ONLYOFFICE are two office suites that function just as well as micro$oft office, often Even Better in my experience. I’ve used LibreOffice for years now and honestly? never going back. OnlyOffice is technically free (as in pizza), but it’s a slight hassle to get everything set up, cause you need to set it up on a server. They have a paid and hosted version available with educational discounts, but honestly i’d go with LibreOffice.

OnePile, is an app I haven’t used myself since it only runs on Apple stuff. But I’ve heard a lot of good things about it so that’s why it’s in here. It looks like it works similar to most general “note taking notebook” apps. Looks really pretty too honestly.

EtherPad, is similar to ONLYOFFICE, however this one’s a lot more focused on specifically text documents. Works with real-time collaboration which is really neat.

Anything that FramaSoft has going on. They’re a non-profit organisation, dedicated to promoting digital freedom. A lot of open source cloud related things are not really useful to people who don’t have the time and/or money to set up a whole-ass server. That’s where FramaSoft comes in, they do it for you. Just about everything they offer (here’s a full overview) are free (as in free pizza). They also have a separate site to help you get started!

It’s not free to run it all on their side, so if you find yourself interested in using their services please try to support them any way you monetarily can! (they even have a “minetest” server (not minecraft, deeeefinitely not minecraft))

Joplin!! Which is also what I used to write this post so I wouldn’t have to use The Tumble’s post writing thing. It’s good for taking notes, has a bunch of neat plug-ins, and can also sync with a variety of cloud services!

Nextcloud For if you want to go just that little bit further on the open source and the privacy. Nextcloud has honestly way too many features for me to list, but the important parts are that it’s a nigh perfect replacement for office365, and probably even GSuite. The one caveat is that you either gotta host it yourself, or get someone else to host it for you. Framasoft (mentioned above), has a nextcloud instance. It works on just about every single platform, and can integrate with an absurd amount of services. Here’s a list of providers that work with nextcloud, and what different apps they have installed on their server.

I personally use Disroot, because they’re a local (as in, my country) non-profit that offer about 2gb of free storage, and then for about 15 cents per GB per month you can get more storage if you want. They also have an email service which is hella neat. Their one main rule is Do Not Use For Business Purposes, because they’re here to help the individual folks, not companies.

Neat Links you may also want to look at!

Here are some sources, and also resources that I used for this post. There’s also some stuff here that I think folks may be interested in in general.

General Wikipedia Article on Open Source Software

The Free and Open Source Software portal on Wikipedia

Resources page of the Open Source Initiative

Free Software Foundation definition of “free software”

itsfoss page on what FOSS means

itsfoss page on the history of FOSS

Open Source Software Foundation list of projects and apps they really like

Open Source Initiative on “the open source way”, and how it goes beyond software

Check out literally anything the Electronic Frontier Foundation has going on maybe?

TED talk on privacy and why it’s important

The Surveillance Self Defense project by the EFF

This EFF page on privacy for students

ExpressVPN article on privacy (not necessarily endorsing this company, just a good article)

What’s next?

I’ll probably make some more posts on specific kinds of software that I think folks may like. Or maybe a general overview on the more privacy forcused reasons and solutions for doing all of this.

Future post ideas, none of these are set in stone:

Open source Note taking apps

Replacements for just about Every Single google service I can think of

My personal setup

Open source / privacy conscious social media that studyblr folks may be into

Chatting, Calling, Videocalling: Discord and whatsapp alternatives etc

??? More studyblr apps that could do with a FOSS alternative??

How to support open source when you’re not a big fudgin nerd

How to be better at digital privacy and security, while still maintaining that studyblr aesthetic

Apps, software, other stuff, for specific areas of study maybe?

Feel free to suggest other ideas! Or leave feedback! This is my first big resource post so I wanna know if/how I can do better when I make another one!

[jimlingss]

The Art of Benefits

➜ Words: 9.8k

➜ Genres: 50% Fluff, 50% Smut, FWB!AU

➜ Summary: There's only one aspect of your life that's missing: sex. But you know yourself. You catch feelings as quickly as you catch colds. But when your friend arranges a meeting with a certain Park Jimin, you'll become inclined to learn the craft of detachment, aka. the art of benefits.

➜ Warning: sex, sexual discussions, toys, sucking dick, period sex, etc.

cr.

[2nd Year Fall Semester]   Life as a sophomore wasn’t shabby.   Assignments, papers and midterms came and went with decent grades that you eventually forgot about. Lectures, club meetings, and studying took most of your time too. But Christmas was arriving and that meant it was sweater weather. It also meant that snow was dusting from the sky and you were watching couples cozying up and keeping each other warm from across the dining center.   It was unfair really. You were cold too. In fact, most of the time you happen to be cold. And while relationships were too much of a time commitment for you to take on, you deserved a cuddle buddy just as much as the next person. Or a fuck buddy. Either works really.   You’ve never been opposed to a friends with benefits relationship.    The only problem is, it would never work for you.   But if you somehow learnt to detach your emotions, it could be the most efficient thing yet. After all, good sex with another warm body was the only aspect in your life that you were missing.   “I mean it’s possible. A lot of people start friends with benefits relationships on campus,” Wendy says as she stuffs her face with her sub sandwich and muses mid-chew, “There’s actually a lot of candidates to choose from.”   You’re exasperated at her nonchalance. As if it’s as easy as going to the supermarket and picking someone up. “Who?!”    You need someone who would be on the same page as you, with the same priorities, a good sex partner who wouldn’t catch feelings either. But frankly, you don’t know that many people.    “Well, what about that guy from your class that you were crushing on? Didn’t you say he was super smart? Might help you on your assignments too.”   “Namjoon?” You shake your head. “He’s got a girlfriend.”   “Okay. What about that older guy in your board games club?”   “No. Seokjin’s graduating next semester.”   Wendy hums, eyes flickering around the dining hall center as she contemplates. “How about Yoongi? From what you’ve told me, he seems pretty cool.”   You loll your head to one side and stab your sweet and sour chicken. “I’m not going to sleep with someone from work. That sounds like a disaster waiting.”   “Jungkook?”   “That’s weird. We went to the same elementary school together.” You can still remember his bowl cut hair as clear as day, and not to mention, the two of you share a group of friends. If things go downhill, it would be a complete mess. The epitome of inefficiency. Which is counterproductive to your goal.   “Taehyung?” At this point, Wendy’s just listing out random people that you know, but you play along just for amusement.   “Nah. Yena has a crush on him.”   She takes another clean bite of her sandwich. “What about that guy that works at that McDonalds that you find cute. What’s his name? Hugo? Howard?”   “Hoseok,” you correct with a feigned glare that makes her smile. “And that’s a big fat no. He doesn’t even know I exist. What am I supposed to do? Waltz up to him and ask to be fuck buddies?”   She grins. “Well, I mean—”   “It wouldn’t work,” you deadpan before she laughs and in turn, makes you giggle too.   The chatter of the room settles in your ears as background noise. You gaze out the window to the sparkling snow piles that reflect the lampposts soft, white light. The sun has long fallen even though it’s only six p.m. The low lights peeking through the somber clouds covering the horizon does little. You dread the thought of having to venture out into the cold and catch the bus home.   You don’t notice how Wendy’s looking at you while she sips on her water. Not until she hums. “You know what? I know someone I could hook you up with.”   Your brow cocks and the corner of your mouth twitches. “Is he a fuckboy?”   Your long time friend shrugs with a glint in her eyes that makes you unsure if she’s serious or not. Wendy once joked that she had a boyfriend from Northern Canada and convinced you hard enough that you legitimately believed her for a good month. So you can never be quite certain when it comes to her. For all you know, she could just be making it up to entertain you.   “Sort of, but he’s a nice one.” Wendy stays vague. “He was my lab partner.”   You stare at her and when her expression remains blank, you scoff. “Sure, sure,” you draw out the syllables with a small laugh and bat the air with your hand just to end the conversation.   And when it’s never discussed again, Wendy moving on to tell you a story about something she suddenly remembers, you’d one day come to realize that was a terrible, terrible mistake.   //   That one day is now.   3:50pm. Wendy: hey i set up a meeting what that guy 3:50pm. Wendy: third floor library  3:50pm. Wendy: he’s in a red hat btw   The text comes right when you’re leaving your last lecture of the day.   3:51pm. Y/N: what guy   3:53pm. Wendy: your future fwb   3:53pm. Y/N: ?????????????????????????????????/ 3:53pm. Y/N: ???????????????? 3:54pm. Y/N: wtf i wasn’t SERIOUS   3:54pm. Wendy: wat   3:54pm. Y/N: I THOUGHT YOU WERE JOKING   3:56pm. Wendy: lmao too late 3:56pm. Wendy: at least meet him he’s waiting sis   3:54pm. Y/N: can’t you cancel?????????   3:57pm. Wendy: n a h   You nearly burst an artery in your temple at the emojis and memes she spams to you.   3:59pm. Wendy: I already told him the gist btw 4:00pm. Wendy: don’t chicken out   With no other choice, you make a u-turn and head towards the library with too many thoughts swirling inside your brain. Chances are this stranger is going to see you, think you’re ugly as shit and try to back out of it. It’s going to be awkward as all hell and you’re not sure you’re ready to have this traumatizing memory for the rest of your life.   Then again, you wonder how Wendy even convinced this dude to meet up. If he’s really that easy going. If this is a typical thing people do now. Or maybe Wendy showed a picture of you on your insta and he agreed afterwards — it wouldn’t be the first time she did that, much to your embarrassment. But you hope it’s the latter case. At least that eliminates the possibility of him trying to backpedal his way out of it after seeing your face.   You also wonder how the hell you’re going to find him. The library is full of students, the rowdy ones and the studious ones being disturbed by them. You wonder what he looks like, what he’ll be like. Third floor. Male. Red hat.   You arrive at the appropriate floor and begin scanning the premise, walking around as your eyes sweep the area. Almost immediately you catch a brunette hunched over and on his phone by the table. He’s wearing a red cap on backwards, purple tee shirt. He has a frat boy aesthetic.   Not really the type you go for.   Looking over him, you round the computers, bookshelves and tables. But finding no one else with a red hat on the third floor, you sharply inhale and approach the boy with his fluffy cheek rested in his hand, arm propped up on the table lazily. Scrolling through his phone.   “Excuse me.”    Your voice is light and hesitant as if you were asking help from someone at the front desk and not seeing if this was a potential fuck buddy. It’s mortifying to say the least.   His head lifts, brown eyes catching the lights.   You clear your throat. “Wendy…”   “Oh. You’re her, right?” He smiles and thankfully, doesn’t seem to be disappointed. “Wendy’s friend?”   “Yeah. I’m Y/N.”   “Jimin.”   Now that you get a closer look, he’s kind of cute. But you don’t dwell. Or look him in the eye.   It feels like a job interview. But worse. “You were Wendy’s lab partner?”   ���That’s me.” He pockets his phone. “I’m a kines major. You?”   “I’m in the arts faculty. Political science.”   “Cool, cool.” Jimin nods and then gets to business without any shame, “So Wendy already told me about it. You’re looking to have a friends with benefits relationship?”   “Yeah….about that….”   “I’m down if you are.” His hand opens up, gesturing to you. You’re not sure how you feel about how laid-back he is, but he remains upfront which you suppose is the right thing to do. “I have a dorm room in the Sierra building by the engineering faculty building if you know where that is.”   “I’ve walked past it before.”   “Cool. Anyway, my last f.w.b. ended two months ago and I kind of miss it,” he quickly clarifies, “The sex, I mean.”   You’re speechless and contemplating if you really want to do this. You know if it works out, it’ll be fairly efficient. You’ve always gotten off by yourself and while it works, it’s not something you’d call completely satisfying. Having someone’s help— good help — is a change you’ve been considering. But a friends with benefits situation has always been one of those ‘what if’ scenarios. You've just never had an opportunity like this to make it actually happen.   Jimin senses your hesitance and leans forward. He lowers his volume. “Are you a virgin? Cause I’m cool with—”   You scoff. “No. I’m not. I just...haven’t done something like this before.”   “Friends with benefits?” His question is answered by your body language. “It’s not bad. Safer than one night stands and more consistent too. You don’t have to go out and find someone every time you want to have sex. And it’s a low level commitment.”   The corner of your mouth pulls and you agree. “It’s efficient. But...I need time to think about it.”   “Sure. Tell me when you make up your mind. I’ll give you my number.” He opens his hand again and you pass him your phone. He quickly types it in. “Take your time.”   //   And you do.   You weigh the pros and cons against each other, considering every possibility and all the consequences. Part of you wants to just go for it. The same part that once decided in high school at midnight that bangs would be a hot look on you. (It wasn’t). The part of you that dyed your hair blue that one summer on a whim. The part that doesn’t want to think and wants to jump head first into things. Jimin made a lot of good pointers too and you’re certain this would be a good outlet. An experience. It helps that he’s quite attractive too and seems to be trustworthy and rational.   Yet, part of you wonders if it would be a bad decision.   There’s a chance that you might catch feelings. For you, it wouldn’t be unheard of either. You have a tendency to catch feelings as fast as you catch colds. And you already know that’s the demise of these kinds of relationships. Once a party gets involved too deep, it’s game over. There’s nothing but heartbreak.   The only way it would work is if you minimize your interactions with him.   The less attached you are, the less likely you are to develop feelings for him since the only way you would like anyone is if you knew them. So the less you know, the better the outcome.    It’s an equation.    It’s the art of the benefits.   And if that works, if you master the art, it would solve every potential issue.   The dorms for sophomores are bigger than the ones for first year freshmen. Instead of a single room with two beds on either side by the walls, there are private bedrooms with just a shared bathroom, a main living space and kitchen.    “Bathrooms are over here,” Jimin gestures. There’s one room at the end of the hall and another one beside his. “Both my roommates are out, so you don’t have to worry. They’re pretty nice.”   You feel awkward lingering at the entryway with your backpack on.   You clear your throat. “Can I get a drink?”   “Oh yeah. There’s new water bottles by the sink, I think, and there’s orange juice in the fridge if you’d like.”   “No, I mean, do you have anything alcoholic?” you correct and he blinks at you owlishly before smiling. You drop your bag and find it in the fridge, a whole vodka bottle. You fill a shot up with a glass on the drying rack. The clear liquid burns as it travels to the back of your throat. The bitter taste nearly makes you gag, but you feel your face warm and you ease even more, knowing it works.   In the meanwhile, Jimin studies you, standing from across the kitchen island. His hands are casually dug into the pockets of his gray sweats. “We won’t have to follow through with this, you know. I’m fine either way.”   “No,” you quickly refute, irrationally afraid he’s changed his mind. And the words spill out of you as you cringe, “I’m horny as shit, I’mjustnervous.”   The guy smiles, eyes slightly crinkled when he does so. “Of what?”   “A lot of things.” You don’t pour a second shot even though you kind of want to. But you have things to do tomorrow, so you can’t nurse a hangover and you most certainly don’t want to be drunk while doing this. “If you didn’t notice, I don’t do this often.”   While you’re at it, you tell him, “I don’t know how to suck dick.”   He leans against the counter, grinning. “Okay. I don’t mind.”   “Also, if you haven’t noticed either, my ass is kind of deflated.”   Jimin shrugs. “I’m more of a boob man anyway.”    You narrow your eyes, not sure if he’s lying or trying to make you feel better.   But there’s no time to dwell when he seriously asks— “Do you still want to do this?”   It takes a second for you to muster your courage. And once you do, you know you won’t back down. “All right. Let’s do this!” You walk into his room like you’re about to go fight off a monster.   Behind you, Jimin grins and it takes a good moment for him to calm you down.   “Are you okay with kissing?” he asks, door shut and distance closed. He’s intimately close and you nod.   Finally, your brain stops overthinking and you let yourself feel. Jimin’s lips are full and plush, and they’re good against yours. The soft smacking fills his room. The two of you kiss until your lips part and he begins to lick into your mouth, tongue entering without much hesitation.   You fall back onto the mattress, noticing that the bed’s been made sloppily, but better than your own. The pair of you keep kissing and he hovers over you, capturing you against the sheets. Pathetically enough, you already begin to feel your center throbbing and it’s a relief when you both get rid of your clothes.   He doesn’t talk much — doesn’t give much commentary or even dirty talk. But you don’t mind. All you’re offering after all is soft sighs and quiet moans.   Jimin squeezes your breasts and fingers you for a good minute. He’s surprised to see how wet you are, even letting out an ‘oh shit’, but you make no efforts to come up with an excuse. The stretch feels good from his thick fingers, but you bet it’ll feel good around his girthy cock too.   He goes to grab a condom from his drawer, but pauses.   “Do...you want me to eat you out?”   “I’m good,” you politely decline, afraid it might be too intimate. You’re not sure where the lines are drawn, but it’s something you’ll have to gauge while you go. “Do you want me to suck your dick? You might have to teach me though.”   The corner of his mouth tugs. “I’m good too.”   As Jimin rips open the condom package, you turn yourself around and get onto all fours. He doesn’t protest and when he enters you, it feels good enough for you to fall forward into the pillows. His cock is of average size, but he’s girthy and your cunt stretches to accommodate him.   He groans in his throat when you clench — and the sound gets you off, making you squeeze again. Jimin pounds into you, his pelvis hitting the meat of your ass, cock drawing in and out against your tight, warm walls. You do your best to meet his thrusts halfway, jerking your hips back and you stifle your moans with your teeth sunk into your bottom lip. The sloppy sounds of slapping and the creaking of his bed makes you glad his roommates are gone. And while the sex is not mind-blowing per se, it’s still good. Enough that you climax once he rubs your clit several times and he unloads into the condom too.   It’s easier than you thought it would be. Not a big deal whatsoever. It took ten minutes in total and it felt good.   It’s just sex — and that’s exactly it. Just sex. The very lesson of the art of benefits.   You pick up your clothes off the floor, slipping them back on. “I gotta get going.”   There’s no snuggling, no cuddling, no pillow talks. And it doesn’t seem like he minds whatsoever.   “‘Kay.” Jimin picks up his phone off his bedside table to check his texts and waves goodbye without even looking at you.   You leave, walking yourself out and humming as you stride down the hall.    You’re glad you went through with it.

[2nd Year Winter Semester]   You run there with your sandwich stuffed in your cheek.   By the time Jimin opens the door, you’re still chewing while panting. It’s a comical sight by the way he smiles at you. You’re already winded before anything’s started. “I hadn’t eaten yet and I needed to get my blood sugar up.”   Jimin’s lips are quirked. “We can always eat beforehand, you know. There’s food in the fridge.”   “Nah, I’m good.” Having meals with your friends with benefits is the last thing on your mind.   He shrugs. “Suit yourself.”   You use his bathroom, releasing your bladder and rinsing your mouth thoroughly. You know yourself and you’re not a novice on how these relationships work. The less interaction and knowledge you have about him, the more you can keep your distance.   “G-God,” he exhales shakingly, hand fisted in your hair. “You’re getting b-better at this….”   Jimin watches through heavy lids as you’re slobbering over his cock. He tries his best to watch, but when you run your tongue over the weeping slit at the bulborous head, his eyes shut and his head naturally knocks back. You’ve gotten better at a lot of things in the few months that have passed, namely sucking dick, but your jaw aches and you wonder when he’s going to cum.   It’s worth it though. You might be the one kneeling in front of him, but you feel powerful. It’s too easy to make him crumble. To make him moan like that. It makes you wet to hear him and knowing you could bite off his dick or make him lose a load, the sheer power eggs you on.   Like you were taught, you inhale, ease your muscles and take Jimin as far as you can.   He chokes as his cock hits the back of your throat. Your gag reflexes threaten your endeavour but you keep them at bay and Jimin’s hand in your hair tightens. Especially when you swallow.   “Fuck. I-I’m going to cum.”   Thank god. Finally!   Usually, you let off so he can cum elsewhere (god forbid in your hair) or if he accidentally does it in your mouth, you spit it out on tissue. But this time, you made a commitment to yourself. You came here with a goal. So you inhale again and deep throat him, sucking as much as you can.   With his curly pubic hair grazing your nose, Jimin cums. His groans staccato. His cock twitches.   And you swallow the bitter, white fluid that comes out in ribbons.   After a few seconds, you finally withdraw. Jimin opens his eyes, staring at you in wonderment. There are strands of saliva from between his softened cock to your lips and you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.   “Not gonna lie.” You clear your throat and swallow down the remaining taste. “That’s really nasty.”   Jimin bursts out laughing.   “Thanks.”    “It’s the least I can do.” You stand up, shaking your left leg awake. It feels like pins and needles when you step around. “I’ve sat on your face like twice already.”   You toss Jimin his pants off the ground and you get your cardigan back on.   “You wanna come over on Friday?”   “Uh…” You grab your phone from your jacket that’s also been discarded and check your calendar. “Sorry. Can’t. I’m busy on that day.”   His brows raise, but he doesn’t question it.   “How about Saturday?” you offer.   “No. I have a kines exam scheduled.”   Your face twists in disgust. “On a Saturday?”   “Yep. I know. It sucks.”   You sympathize, but you’re also surprised. “I didn’t know you were a kines major.”   “What? I thought I told you.”   “Guess I forgot.” You put yourself back together and a thought strikes you. Your eyes light up and you turn to your friend with glittering eyes. “Does that mean you can crack bones? I’ve always wanted to go to a chiropractor since my lower back always hurts. You should crack it for me.”   Jimin grins. “Sorry, I don’t know how to do that. They don’t really teach you that kind of stuff.”   “Oh.” Your eyes dim and you don’t try to hide your disappointment. You almost thought you could get a little more out of him, but you suppose decent sex is enough.    As you grab your bag, you notice that his phone lights up. “You got a text from Victoria.”   “Thanks.” He reaches over, but the curious expression on your face must be visible, since he says, “Don’t worry. She’s not my girlfriend or anything. She’s just someone I’m kind of into.”   “Nice!”   The corner of Jimin’s mouth quirks at your genuinely excited response even though he never looks away from the screen. You’re psyched though. If he has an interest in someone else, there’s less chance for anyone to catch feelings. Fewer connections. More distance.   “If you ever want to end this, just let me know.” You throw your backpack on that’s heavy with your laptop and textbooks inside.   “Yeah.”   “I’m going now.”   “Bye.” Jimin’s fingers fly across the screen to text the other girl back and neither of you spare each other a glance. The door shuts moments later and the noise echoes through the walls.

[3rd Year Fall Semester]   In spite of being a junior now, things have relatively remained the same.   According to course outlines, lectures are more in-depth in their content, but there’s still assignments, papers, and midterms. The grading schemes haven’t changed and you know there’s a shit ton of work waiting for you in the coming months. But you find pleasure wherever you can.   The door opens, but it’s not Jimin on the other side.   “Hey, Y/N.” Taemin, his roommate, is eating chips. “He’s in his room.”   “Thanks.”   You shuffle inside and after briefly greeting Jongin, the other roommate, who’s busy playing Animal Crossing on the living room couch, you beeline to his room. You find Jimin hunched over his messy desk, rounded spectacles on the bridge of his nose as he’s tapping furiously across his laptop keyboard.   He glances at you. “Sorry. I need a second.”   “Take your time.”    You set down your bag and shed your coat, tossing it aside. You’re not sure what he’s doing, but you don’t ask. Instead, you pull out your phone and run through your usual apps. With no messages to answer or anything to scroll through, you check your email and find the words ‘emergency’ in one of the subject lines.   After a minute, Jimin saves his document and closes the lid of his laptop. He stretches above his head with a groan and turns around, only to find you now hunched over your own device.   “Sorry,” you mutter once you feel his gaze on you. “My manager needs me to fill out my timesheet and send it to her.”   “I didn’t know you worked.”   “Just part-time at the admissions office here on campus.” You go quiet as you skim over your email again to ensure it makes sense. “It’s a pretty easy gig.”   He hums and you finish, shutting your laptop and sticking it back into your bag. That’s when you finally get a good look at the boy across the room — dark hair, blue shirt and gray sweats — and you notice how tan he’s gotten. It’s a good look.    Your mouth tugs. “Did you travel over the summer?”   “I went to the Caribbean with my family for like two weeks.”   “Fancy.”   “It was alright.” He gets up and re-stacks the textbooks on his desk into a single pile. Jimin notices the stack of flyers he was supposed to distribute. “Oh yeah. Do you want to join the crayon club?”   Your brow lifts. “The crayon club?”   “Yeah, you can come colour every Wednesday night and just hang out with people.” Jimin grins boyishly. “My friend wanted to make a club and he made me the communications executive. I’m supposed to get people to join. You don’t have to, but the first meet and greet is this Friday, and the more people the better. There’s gonna be free food by the way, if that helps.”   You’re not sure that's a good idea.   The two of you have never really met up outside of his dormitory, aside from the first time you met at the library.   “Let me check my calendar.” You grab your phone again and thoughtlessly mumble, “Sometimes I’m busy on Friday. I’m part of the board games club and we meet up every other week…..don’t judge.”   “I’m not.”    Still, Jimin's smile widens and you feign a pout.    You’re free this week.   “I’ll come if you make me an executive too,” you quip carelessly while tossing your phone aside. “It’ll look good on my law application.”   Jimin quirks his head. He didn’t know you were aiming for law school. “Okay.”   “Wait.” You’re taken off guard, eyes as wide as saucers. “Seriously?!”   He with a small laugh. Jimin gets up and closes the distance, making you lean against the headboard until he’s completely hovering over you, mere inches away. “We actually need a position filled anyway, so you just saved me some trouble.”   “You better keep your promise, Park.”   You end up showing with Wendy and Tiffany in tow — the former who wants to raid whatever food there is and the latter genuinely interested in colouring as a means of relaxation. It’s a bit awkward to meet so many new people at once and Jimin’s friends at that, but you can tell they’re nice at heart. Albeit, a bit rambunctious and too friendly. And you’re a bit horrified when one of them tries to eat a crayon to further advertise the club.   “So, what’s up with you and Jimin?” Tiffany asks, peering up at you as she colours in the lines carefully. She’s unaware of your arrangement with the boy. It’s not something you’ve told many.   You feign ignorance, not wanting to get into the details with strangers around. “What do you mean?”   “Are you dating him?”   You scoff. “I wish.”   Immediately, Wendy’s brows raise to her hairline and the words that fumbled out of you thoughtlessly finally sink in. “I mean, no, we’re not. Not I wish.”   Luckily, Tiffany spares you and doesn’t pry. But you’re mortified and you glance at Jimin from across the room laughing noisily with his friend. You turn away from him, trying to create more distance.

[3rd Year Winter Semester]   With exam season here, you and Jimin hadn’t seen each other in a while.   Luckily, Spring break was approaching, so you at least had something to look forward to. The idea of being able to lay in bed and sleep in automatically puts you in a good mood. Jimin, however, seems less than stoked.   You watch from the bed as he runs a hand through his hair, messing it up before you’ve gotten a chance to. He was frowning when he opened the door, greeted you with one word and in general, has been quieter than usual.   “Is….everything alright?” You wonder if you did something to piss him off, but then he says—   “I flunked my final.”   Oh. That explains his bad mood.   “The one you took this morning?” you ask.   “Yeah.” Jimin deflates with an extended sigh. “I didn’t get the first twenty questions and then I fucking ran out of time….”   There’s a pause that lingers.   “Well, you’re not sure if you actually failed, right?” You lean closer to him, quirking your head to the side. “The marks haven’t been released and who knows, the prof might curve it.”   “Maybe. I don’t know.” Jimin scrubs a hand over his face, uncertain and stressed. “This ruins everything. I’m trying to get an internship at a clinical rehabilitation facility and I want to apply for a masters and now...fuck.” You’re surprised. You didn’t know he had so many goals. “I’m screwed.”   Jimin flops back onto his mattress, staring at the ceiling. You loom over him, blocking his view.   “Does the internship look at your GPA?”   “They want a three point o average or more.”   “What do you have now?”   “Three point five.”   The corner of your mouth pulls and a rush of air leaves your nose in a snort. “Then you’ll make it! Even if you failed one exam, it wouldn’t tank past a three. It can’t be too bad, right?”   “Yeah, I guess.” Jimin sighs and absentmindedly tugs on your strand of hair that’s fallen in front of your face and is grazing against his cheek. “I just don’t know anymore.”   “It’s going to be fine,” you reassure, slapping your hand on his shoulder. “You’re just overthinking it.”   “Maybe,” he hums.   A sudden thought comes across your mind and your small smile turns devious. “Let me make you feel better.”   You shift to straddle his hips and instantly, his hands lift to your waist. Jimin starts to grin as you pull at his shirt, trying to get him to strip. And you do your best to pleasure him.   It doesn’t take much effort considering Jimin’s hand is already tightening in your hair the minute you run your tongue along his shaft. But he doesn’t let you suck him for too long, eager to feel you inside instead and pleasure you just the same.   It’s eager and messy sex. You’re on top until your thighs begin to burn and you lose your pace. Then he re-repositions the both of you, so you’re flat on your back and he’s doing most of the work. You end up cumming twice. Once around his covered cock and the other time after he coaxes you around his stiff tongue and eggs you on, even when you’re sobbing from the overstimulation.   It feels good. Better than good.   Over time, the pair of you have gotten to know each other’s bodies better, what works and what doesn’t.    Your relationship with Jimin is an investment that feels worth it.   “Hey…” You’re both facing away from each other as you put your clothes back on. Jimin turns his head and you cast him a glance. “I was thinking of maybe starting birth control…”   He blinks.   “If you go get yourself checked out and make sure you’re clean, we can do it without condoms.”   You pull down your sweater over your head and you both stare at each other. He looks surprised and responds in a delayed manner, “Okay. Cool. I’m down. I’ll get myself checked out this weekend. I haven’t really slept with anyone else since this started though.”   It’s your turn to be caught off guard. “Really? What...about that girl you were into? Vicky?”   “You mean Victoria?” He jumps as he puts on his sweatpants, getting both legs through at once. “Nah. It didn’t end up working out.”   “Oh.” He’s entirely nonchalant about it, so you merely nod.   Jimin walks you to the door and you notice that he’s in a better mood than earlier. You hide your smile to yourself, glad that it was mutually beneficial.   Two weeks later, he gets an email before the two of you get down and dirty, and you’re the first one in his life to know that he got the summer internship. His excitement is infectious and you genuinely feel happy for him.

[4th Year Fall Semester]   It’s so close, you can taste it.   A whole new semester and cart of overpriced textbooks later meant you were a senior now. It also meant that there was just this year left and you were out of here. Finished at least one degree. A step closer to making the big bucks and being a whole ass adult.   The idea is both exhilarating and frightening.   2:20pm. Jimin: Wanna come over?   The text mocks you, but the temptation is tangible. Like a carrot tied at the end of a stick that’s attached to a hungry rabbit. You’ve been sexually frustrated since last night, feeling it in your loins since morning, and fidgeting and rubbing your thighs underneath tables and desks. The thought of getting that sweet relief properly is enough for you to want to ditch class altogether, but you can’t. Not for the next few days.   2:22pm. Y/N: can’t. 2:22pm. Y/N: I’m on my period :((   2:23pm. Jimin: I don’t mind   2:23pm. Y/N: really???? 2:24pm. Y/N: are you sure   2:25pm. Jimin: lmao 2:25pm. Jimin: yes   You brace through the rest of the lecture, paying more attention as the anticipation swells. And when it’s all over, you race across campus to the dormitory building you’ve become familiar with.   Jimin opens the door before you need to knock and he plants a chaste kiss against your lips in greeting. You’re taken off guard, but don’t pay too much attention to it. “How was class?”   “Good. You?”   “Same,” he hums.   You drop your bag in his room and gesture below your waist. “I’m going to need to wash up. The nether regions are a bit…”   He smiles. “Sure. I got spare towels I can set down too.”   You self-consciously linger for a moment as he goes to his closet to the upper shelf. The towels are luckily green and not white. “I’m surprised you’re okay with it. Having period sex, I mean.”   “Why wouldn’t I be?” Jimin pushes his blanket aside and puts a towel down. “As long as you’re fine with it, then I am too.”   “I don’t know. Doesn’t blood gross you out?”   “Not really? Most of the time I’m the one making the mess, so it’s actually nice to have someone else make the mess for once. Plus sex is sex. What’s there to complain about?” His brow lifts and he looks at you. You scoff and it makes Jimin grin.   You wash yourself up and he fucks you in missionary position on top of the towels. The pair of you have only done so a few times before. Typically, you’re face down, bent over, on all fours or looking away from each other. But the change is welcome. Jimin hovers over you and you can kiss him when you want to.   “F-Fuck.” A pitched moan unintentionally spills from you when he hits a spot at your walls that has your toes curling. “Ji...min.”   It’s more lubricated than usual, making the strokes easier. He goes softer too. Deeper. Jimin presses your thighs to your chest and makes you feel him all the way to your throat.   The boy smiles tenderly at your reaction in spite of panting himself. “Feel good, baby?”   “Y-Yeah.” You nod, eyes shut tight. You grip his forearms when he bottoms out again. “Always does.”   Your warm walls pulse around his thick cock and you end up cumming soon after. He groans into your neck at how you tighten around him like a vice grip and he thrusts into you one more time before his cum fills you.   The pair of you jump in the shower together to get cleaned up and then you’re picking up your clothes while he tosses the towels in the laundry.   “What were you working on, on Thursday?”   You blink, realizing that you texted him vaguely about being swamped and unable to come over, and that’s enough for you to unload and go on a tangent. “God, don’t remind me. It was my fucking thesis. I barely managed to finish it but I don’t even know if it makes sense and now I have to edit like fifty pages by myself before giving it to my supervisor, so that’s fun.”   It feels good to let it off your chest.   Jimin smiles subtly at your venting. “I could always edit it for you.”   “What? Seriously?”   “Sure.” He shrugs. “I’m not in poly sci, but that might make me a bit more unbiased. I’m not doing much these days either.”   “Oh my god.” There’s an overpowering urge to bow at his feet or suck his dick until you’re gagging or do both. “You’re a life-saver!”   Jimin laughs and it’s the sound of angels singing. “Just send it over. I can get it done by tomorrow. You have my email, right?”   “Of course I do. Duh!” Your grin is big enough that your cheeks hurt and he has one that matches it as well.   //   A few weeks fly by and things calm down enough that you can finally breathe. But that’s when you receive a little text from a certain someone that has you skeptical if you can rest easy.   6:48pm. Jimin: I have a surprise for you 6:48pm. Jimin: I forgot about it   You’re not sure what it is, but asking would be like pulling teeth with him. Jimin hates spoilers and he likes surprises all too much.   Lately, you’ve both been getting into some freaky shit. Buying toys, blindfolds, handcuffs. As adventurous as college kids with a limited budget can get. It was rather fun for the pair of you, and expectedly, some experiments work out better than others. It sends goosebumps all over your skin every time he talks dirty. You like it when Jimin spanks you too. Although, you’re still unsure about the whole candle wax on your body idea.   But there’s one thing for sure — Jimin can most definitely not role play for his life.    The whole school girl fantasy lasted a good five minutes before he started bursting into giggles and breaking character every other second. Playing doctor only made you realize how ticklish he was too. And the tickle fight that followed was definitely not something one would call ‘sexy’. Even if it did lead to the deed being done.   “Hey.” Jimin greets you with a grin and a chaste peck against your lips. “How was studying?”   “Fine.” You brush off the question quickly, too curious of what he has in store. “Jimin, I’m not going to use that twelve inch dildo unless you want to drive me to the ER.”   He bursts out laughing. “That’s not it. Good try though.”   Instead of going to his room like you usually do, Jimin leads you past the kitchen area to the table. It’s been cleared off and you give an inquisitive expression. He grins and then gestures to it.    “Lay down.”   “What?”   “Just lay down.” He takes your hand, guiding you on it and you obey wordlessly. It doesn’t seem like any of his roommates are home and you hope they don’t come back any time soon lest they find you lying face down on their dinner table.   You feel Jimin round the table and pull your ankles together. You tilt yourself up to peek at him, but then he barks— “Down.”   With a pout, you return to your position, arms folded underneath your head. You hope he isn’t about to rub spices on you and roast you in his oven like it feels like he’s doing.   You feel the gentle pressure of Jimin’s hands against your spine, his thumbs pressing into your skin and he hums, “Relax. Okay. Breathe in for me.”   An inhale is taken and his hands suddenly press into the middle of your back. You hear your bones crack loudly. It catches you off guard and you turn yourself with wide eyes. “You know how to do it?!”   He boyishly grins. “I might’ve learnt a thing or two during my internship.”   “Keep going, keep going.” You flip yourself over again, gesturing to your back and he laughs, going down your body and cracking your bones. You become butter in his fingertips, lower back feeling better already.   “Lift your leg for me.”   You follow his instructions to a t. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” you ask sleepily, lulled by his care. If he massaged you too, you might just cream your pants.   “I got this, I got this,” he reassures with a bit of arrogance. “I’m not a professional, but I know what I’m doing. You trust me, right?”   A noise is made at the back of your throat.   “If you break a bone on accident, I’ll sue you,” you mumble as he turns you over. “God, feels good.”   After a while, Jimin gets you to sit up and continues. He looks nice when he’s concentrating. Expression blank. Lips plump and in a line. Brows only slightly furrowed. “Considering you don’t have any ailments, you don’t need to get your bones cracked often. You should stretch and do some exercise instead.”   You scoff. “Having sex with you is enough exercise.”   To prove your point, you latch onto his arm and tug him towards you. Jimin smiles and the two of you break a sweat against each other on the table before either of his roommates come home.

[4th Year Winter Semester]   It was an invitation that you would’ve called yourself crazy for offering a year ago. But if it wasn’t for him editing your thesis and taking a load off your mind, you would’ve had a harder time.    You had him to thank for that.   “So?” Jimin’s seated across from you at the restaurant booth. It wasn’t surprisingly difficult to ask him to grab a bite with you. For some reason, you thought he would reject. “What’s the big news?”   Instead of answering, you reach into your bag and slide the envelope across the table.   He’s curious and takes it, pulling out the letter to read. You sip on your water, watching his expression intently. He mutters the words and it takes him through the first paragraph before he realizes. Then, at once, Jimin’s eyes widen. His mouth drops and he looks at you proudly.   “You got into law school?”   “Three of them,” you tell with a cheesy grin.    “T-That’s….fucking amazing. Holy fuck.” He reaches over and hugs you. It’s awkward considering there’s a whole table in the way, but you appreciate the sentiment. You’re giddy and giggling at how excited he is. It makes you feel like the first time you opened the letter yourself.   Jimin presses a kiss against your hair before withdrawing. “When did you find out?”   “Two days ago. I really thought I wasn’t going to get in since I got rejection letters last week from the other schools, but then three of them came in rapid succession.”   He shakes his head, still in awe. “Congratulations. Seriously. You deserve it, Y/N. God knows how hard you worked.”   “Thanks.” You smile to yourself, fiddling with the hem of your blouse. “I was thinking of maybe leaving the city to a different uni, but….I’m going to stay with my parents for as long as I can to save up on loans.”   “Yeah, sounds good.” He nods. “Moving out can be expensive.”   “What about you? Have you applied to your masters program yet?”   Jimin laughs. “Actually, I was planning on telling you that today too. I didn’t bring any fancy letter with me though.”   You lean closer, sitting on the edge of your seat. “You got in?”   “I did. Yesterday.” His enormous smile causes your own to expand. “I’m gonna do it part-time while working at the same facility I did my internship at.”   You’re happy for him and you can tell by his expression that he’s genuinely excited for you too. The pair of you were taking steps forward for your future and while it was a little scary, for now, you enjoy the victory and pig out at the restaurant with little restraints.   At the end of the night, you’re both wine drunk when you stumble back to his dorm room and soon, you’re trying to muffle your whimpers with your teeth sunk into your bottom lip. It doesn’t help when he presses the humming vibrator to your clit harder.   “J-Jimin,” you sob, fingers twisting into his sheets. You’re slumped against the headboard as he surrounds you.   “Louder,” he commands, watching you through heavy lidded eyes. The cold air of his bedroom made your nipples hardened, yet you feel hot all over, under his gaze and ruthlessness.    Your hand curls around his wrist. “Your roommates are sleep—” You cry and keen against his chest when he plunges the toy into your swollen cunt that’s leaking down your ass and thighs.   “It’s okay,” he murmurs in a low voice against your ear, “Let it go.”   You feel the toy nudge against your cervix, the vibrations trembling through your body and you orgasm hard with your forehead pressed against Jimin’s shoulder. Even then, he continues to draw it in and out of you, studying how you’ve creamed around the vibrator, how your slick is dripping to his sheets that are already stained with the scent of your shampoo.   “J-Jimin,” you whine loudly, not knowing if you’re trying to lean away from his touch or closer. “T-...too m-much!”   “You can take it,” Jimin softly coaxes and you nod.    You cum again after a minute and he immediately kisses you with a big smile before peppering pecks down to your neck. It makes you feel ticklish and winded.   “Hey...Jimin…”   “Hmm?”   “Are we still gonna do this after we graduate?” you ask in a quiet voice, laying back in the ruined sheets. “I’m gonna be busy and you are too.”   “We’ll figure it out.” He flops beside you and you both face each other. Jimin’s arm is draped over your waist and you stare at one another for a moment before he closes the distance.   Jimin nudges you for a languid kiss, your noses brushing as his soft, plush lips press against yours. It’s unhurried. Slow. He urges your mouth to part for him and his tongue slips in as you whimper, giving you a chance to properly taste him.   Sloppy, wet noises fill the room while heat rises to your cheeks. But you’re unbothered while swapping spit with Park Jimin. It’s lazy, yet it feels good. So much so that you’ve relaxed entirely.   In the back of your mind, you know you should get up and put some clothes on. Any cuddling or post-sex touching has largely been unprecedented before this and it’s not good to make habits you’ll have to eventually break. You should get your sweater off the floor, or at least slip on his purple t-shirt….   But you give into the temptation and shut your eyes for one second. One mere second.    That’s enough for you to doze off.   When Jimin realizes you’ve accidentally fallen asleep, he smiles to himself and tugs the blankets up to your shoulders, securing you in warmly.   //   You stifle another yawn with your hand.    It’s 9:30 in the goddamn morning and way too early for you. There’s a reason you pick afternoon classes, go to work afterwards and then go see Jimin to end your day off. There’s no situation good enough that warrants your alarm blaring before eight — but you suppose a graduation ceremony could be an exception.   “There’s so many people,” your dad gasps in wonderment, looking around the vast hall. “Do you know them all?”   “No.” You hold in your sigh. “I don’t.”   For the past twenty minutes, you’ve been running around looking for your parents after they’ve wandered off and gotten lost. If they weren’t spamming their cameras on their phone and telling you to smile in front of the odd statue or the meaningless bulletin board that wasn’t even part of your faculty, it was calling your name as loud as they could to find you in the crowds.   You’re happy over their enthusiasm but also burdened. It’s a lot of mixed feelings.   “Y/N?”   Dark hair and brown eyes — a certain someone who you weren’t expecting to run into is staring right at you with a boyish smile. “Jimin?” He looks good, a suit underneath and a black graduation gown over it that falls to his calf. His gown has a golden hood and tassel while yours is white — the colours symbolizing your different faculties and areas of study.    “Hey.” His gaze is warm. “You look nice.”   “Thanks. You too.”   You don’t linger on him for long, not when his parents are right by his side. You divert your vision and greet them politely. Jimin surprisingly looks a lot like his dad and his mom has a kind face. They seem like sweet people and you’re suddenly breaking into a sweat. “Nice to meet you.”   Your own parents make themselves known and you feel like your worlds are colliding as they shake hands and exchange names, congratulating each other on their child’s graduation.   You’re about to get them moving along when your mom nudges you. “Is this your boyfriend?”   Her voice is way too loud and you feel yourself burn in embarrassment.    “No. He’s just a friend,” you whisper it sharply but much your dismay, they look unconvinced.   You miss the way Jimin smiles to himself.   “We should get a picture!” his dad declares and your own dad looks even more elated at the idea of spamming more pictures. You already had to delete a hundred blurry ones, but your mom ignores your groan and pushes you both towards some weird artwork on the wall.   “Stand over here! Over here! Smile!”   Your parents end up sitting next to each other on the rows and you have no words, forced to sit at the bottom with the rest of your graduating class. It’s a wonder that the Arts Faculty was scheduled right before the Faculty of Kines. Fate or coincidence, you’re not sure yet.   But it’s still nice to see Jimin walk the stage and be able to cheer for him.   “Congratulations, Mr. Park.”   He grins. “Congratulations to you too, Miss L/N.”   It’s certain that the numerous celebrations with family, friends and relatives will be chaotic, so you take advantage of the opportunity while you still can. You steal just a little moment for your selfish desires by standing outside before you’re both bombarded by your circle of people.   “You know, I couldn’t have done it without you.”   “Oh, stop it with the sappiness.” You can’t feign a roll of your eyes when your smile is so big.   He swings an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close and laughing. “Why? Don’t like it?” And the little shit slyly leans in to whisper, “You like it when I call you my baby though.”   “Jimin!”   He laughs and you sigh with a smile.   You’re glad you ran into him.

[Post-Graduation]   You open the door, welcoming yourself in.   “Hey.”   Jimin’s on the couch and glances at you, unfazed at how you’ve waltzed right into his apartment with little warning. You’ve always knocked out of courtesy for his roommates, but ever since he moved out of the dormitories, you find little need to make him walk all the way to the door.   He’s watching a thriller and you flop down on his couch, leaning over to plant a quick peck against his mouth as a greeting. “How was work?”   “It was okay. A bit busy. I met this nice old lady and we chatted for a bit. She called me handsome, so there’s that.” He grins and you scoff lightly, leaning your cheek on his shoulder as you watch the main character venture into an abandoned house on screen. Jimin loves his praises, so you’re not wholly surprised he’s kept a mental note of it.    You’re not sure why it’s important though. Anyone with eyes would agree he’s good-looking.   “How was class?”   “Awful,” you mumble, feeling tired against him. You came over to get rid of some sexual frustration, but you’re not even sure you have the energy to do anything anymore. “Commuting was brutal this morning. Traffic was backed up on the highway and I was late, and yesterday I had to drive back at night. My parents are driving me nuts too. I can’t study properly.”   Jimin hums a soothing note and slings an arm at the back of the couch where you’re sitting, letting you lean into him. It goes quiet as the two of you watch the suspenseful scene and then he absentmindedly pipes up after a minute, “You could always move in with me.”   He continues, “It’s closer to the university and it’s quiet during the day, so you can study. We could always study together too.”   It’s a good idea, but— “I can’t afford that.”   “I don’t mind paying rent for a while. It’s the same either way.”   It takes a second for the words sink in and then you’re peeling yourself off of him.   Your gaze is met with Jimin’s, eyes locking into one another and the movie is left in the background. “As roommates?”   He shrugs. “There’s only one bedroom, but sure.”   A studio apartment. One bed shared. Two people.   Watching movies. Having sex. Eating together.   It doesn’t sound bad to you whatsoever, but you contemplate it. It swirls around inside your head and you murmur, “Isn’t that breaking the rules of being friends with benefits?”   And you don't know why but Wendy’s words from the other day are echoing inside the caverns of your brain at the worst moment. “You know, your relationship with Jimin isn’t exactly normal.” You weren’t sure what she meant and you still don’t know. Not when she had advertised and encouraged this kind of arrangement all those years ago. When she had told you many people got involved in each other like this.   But you’re starting to wonder if something is off.   Did you do something wrong? Did your relationship with Jimin spiral out of control? But everything feels normal.   After three years, you’d think you would’ve mastered the art of benefits by now.   You sigh, getting a headache. Yet, Jimin merely shrugs.    As if the definitions and boundaries don’t bother him whatsoever.    “Is it?”   “Kind of. I mean, living together, being mutually exclusive. It almost sounds like….”   “Like what?” His brows lift. “Like we’re dating?”   You feel hot in your face, skin toasted like a furnace. Maybe you’re being delusional or silly. Maybe he’s going to laugh at you. “This is what couples who are going to get engaged do.”   “Maybe we should date then…?” The pitch of Jimin’s voice raises at the end, not necessarily a question but neither a statement. It’s questionable like he’s unsure how you feel. Like he’s playing a guessing game. And then he smiles at your shocked expression.   Jimin turns to face you fully. His gaze is heavy, earnest. “Maybe we should date.”   This time, it’s repeated as an assertion.   Confident. Unwavering. Sincere.   Jimin leans in to kiss you as if he can’t resist anymore. It’s tender, taking you off guard and you lean into him, finally allowing yourself to become surrounded by him. Mind. Body. And soul.   When the two of you pull away, he smiles while catching his breath. “I-I’m down if you are. This apartment can be yours and you can study here and sleep here and whatever. We can eat together and I’ll buy you take out or cook. It’s fine if you don’t want to. I’m cool with anything. We can keep being friends with benefits, if that’s what you want….so…......what do you want?”   You exhale lightly, feeling warm. “This...is a lot.”   “Is it?” Instantly, Jimin appears panicked and you hold back a laugh. “We’ve technically been together for three years and...what we’ve been doing recently is basically dating. In my opinion.”   “Did Wendy put you up to this?”   “No.” He shakes his head. “Frankly, the person I talk to most these days is you. And I like it that way.”   God, you hate him.    You pull Jimin in for another kiss, an aggressive and eager one. Enough that you can feel the heat off of his own face. You move to straddle his thighs and when you break apart, you muster a glare at him. “You know, I’ve been trying so hard not to catch feelings. You’re ruining all my efforts, you know that, Park?”   He grins. “Is this a yes?”   “It is.” This time, he’s the one to kiss you, sealing your lips together as he smiles against your mouth and squeezes giggles out of you. Even if he doesn’t say it, even if he’s saving it for another day, you know from his tender touches that he loves you. And it’s mutual.   No longer do you need to worry — leave right after the deed is done or be panicked when you’ve accidentally fallen asleep in his bed. You’re unashamed when he kisses you harder as a greeting, when he holds your hand, when you go out together. You can have pillow talks without needing to guard yourself, cuddle him, call him yours.   And when Christmas arrives, meaning sweater weather and snow dusting from the sky, you have someone to keep you warm. Someone who you can come back to and call your home.

[binniesthighs]

hello stranger | reader x changbin |

Part 3 

Pairing: self insert, female reader x seo changbin, female reader x han jisung 

Genre: strangers to lovers, fluff, smut, angst 

Tags: (of this part) college au, rapper!changbin, rapper!jisung, artist!reader, establishedfwb!jisung, skz side characters, explicit language, conflicting feelings angst, reader has past trauma/trust issues (implied), fingering (f receiving), multiple orgasms (implied), fluffy n’ intimate body touching (this is a thing I think lol), lil bit of nipple play, seo changbin being the soft soft dom of my SOUL 

Word count: 4.6k 

Chapters 

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4

ding-ding-diNG! 

Your teeth chattered, battling the early morning frigid air. White wisps of your shaking breath vaporized in front of you. Your arms were tightly wrapped around your chest and your knees bounced with a little dance to keep your blood flowing. 

[02:29] CB

me: where the hell are you? are you coming down? 

Your dry and cold fingers typed out the words hurriedly on your phone screen. One more time, you smashed your finger on the buzzer button. You figured that if he had fallen asleep after inviting you over, you would kill him. 

“Come on, come on,” you hissed into the open air. 

Thick footsteps came clomping down the stairs from the other side of the frosted glass door, and your attention quickly whipped over. 

As expected, he had adorned himself in nearly all black clothing. Nevertheless, he had thought to pull out his silver chain over the padded coat with white stripes down the arms. 

“Took you long enough. Let me in, I feel like my toes are frozen.” 

Changbin’s eyes cast down to your thin canvas sneakers you had put on in your haste, which were now covered in snow. 

“You should have worn better shoes then. Lets get going.” 

“--Get going??” 

He swung the door behind him closed and it locked with a little click. 

“We’re going somewhere?” 

“I’m hungry.” Changbin simply announced, then took off walking down the block. 

“I thought that--” 

“--Keep up. It’s not that far.” 

He led the two of you onward, and you snuck one more look up at him and the way that the snowflakes got tangled in his hair. 

╚ ——————————————— ╝

“Here, be careful, it’s hot.” 

After brushing off the ice crusted bench, Changbin presented to you a giant bowl of steaming noodles so large you guessed you could keep live fish in it. The smell of the broth was dreadfully nostalgic and was full of all of your favorite ingredients, almost as if he had known exactly what you would’ve ordered. You couldn’t help but feel giddy while the steam wafted up your nose. 

You wondered with full eyes, “Oh my god, what is this?” 

“-The best thing that you’ll ever have in your life. You might as well thank me now.” 

You pulled the little heater closer towards the two of you with radiating orange coils. Changbin didn’t skip a beat sitting right down next to you, letting the fabric of both of your coats intermingle. 

“This is my favorite place in the city. Their recipes really remind me of my mom and grandma’s.” 

“Well I’m really excited to try.” You blew off a handful of noodles steaming into your nose while Changbin expectantly watched you hork it down. 

“So?” 

You covered your chomping mouth with your hand. “So, so good.” 

“Hmm.” He scoffed, then there was that smug little smirk of his. 

You thought to yourself that it was kind of cute. 

The two of you sat quietly together, watching the silent sounds of the snowfall on the road in front of you, following the cars that passed. Over time, your body seemed to gravitate: bit by bit and piece by piece, closer to the boy next to you. 

Changbin set down his metal chopsticks with a tiny clink on the table. “So, are you going to tell me about yourself now?” 

“Me?” 

“Didn’t I say last time I wanted to know?” 

You remembered, but this time you couldn’t as easily kiss away the questions on his lips. 

“How do you mean? There isn’t too much to know.” 

“I don’t think that’s true. What is it that you study?” 

“You want to know what I study?” 

You nearly laughed in your surprise at the mundane question considering that the person sitting across from you had seen you turned inside out, a moaning and muttering mess upon first meeting, and he wanted to know what you studied? 

“Why does that matter?” 

“Matters ‘cause I want to know.” He simply returned, and gave you that look. 

Normally his eyes were stormy grey, like the way that the sky would sizzle with energy before lighting would crack. They clouded with severity that seemed dangerous when he was angry, or when there was something that he wanted. But, looking at you like this, there was no danger that they held. 

“Are you going to tell me or just keep glaring at me like that?” Changbin nodded to your nearly empty bowl. “Finish that. Don’t let it go cold.” 

You did as you were told--at least it wasn’t answering the question. 

“Fine. You don’t have to tell me. But tell me something else at least. Why were you at that show?” 

“My friends took me? My friend Chan is really into underground rap and stuff like that so he usually drags me and Felix with him. I don’t mind.” 

“See? Was answering that that hard?” 

You had forgotten, then laughed a little to yourself. “Chan actually was there to see you. He had heard about you from whatever those circles are. He was really excited.” 

“I’m actually glad you were there for that reason. For a second there I thought you might’ve said that you were there to see Han Jisung.” 

You nearly spat out your bite of noodles, and choked a little on the broth. 

“Guy’s a fuckin’ showboat and a cocky asshole. The girls at the shows are usually there for him.” 

“What the fuck? You didn’t just say that.” 

Anger bit like acid in your throat. 

“What? He is!!” 

It should have hurt more that he had assumed that you were one of the masses that would fall over their feet for Han Jisung, but it didn’t. Your chest twisted in knots knowing that the assumption was right--that hurt the most. You felt sick knowing now how he would look at you if he knew where you would stoop. 

“I’m complimenting you!! I’m glad that you don’t waste your time on assholes like him.” 

“Since when do you get to pass judgement on who I do and don’t spend my time with? -And aren’t you one of those same assholes? Up there on that stage, what makes you think that you’re any different from the rest of them?” 

“I mean...I like to think that I’m not--” 

Your eyes rolled back so far it might’ve hurt a little. 

“You’re all the fucking same. I’m so fucking stupid.” 

The words quietly fell off your lips like venom. 

“We’re all?” What are you talking about?” 

“And what the hell is this with trying to get up all in my business? We fucked once Changbin, what more do you want from me? You think I owe you something now? I’m not falling for that again.” 

The crunch of your footsteps padded the snow when you turned out of your seat to speed away from him as fast as you could, and as far as you could. 

He was the unbelievable one. 

“Stop! I don’t get what you’re talking about. Falling for what again? You’re not making any sense! And no, I don’t think that you owe me something. I’m sorry if you thought that. I’m just--” He grabbed at your arm. 

“--WHAT?” you tore his hand away. 

“Is it a fucking crime to fuck someone and then give a damn about them? Ever heard about that happening?” 

In your life? 

Something terrible and suffocating rose in your chest that felt like a sob that you had held in for much too long. 

“Listen.” Changbin approached you closer, carefully, that look softening. “It’s freezing out here, it’s late. We...don’t have to talk about it any more. I’ll take you back to my place, I’ll call you a cab, you can go home? Okay?” 

Changbin poked out his arm looped in his pocket for you to link up to. 

You didn’t need his help when you knew the way. 

╚ ——————————————— ╝ 

Rosemary and cedarwood again. It was like it was everywhere. It was in the hoodie that he insisted that you put on and all entangled in the fabric of that blanket that he draped around your shoulders. Had you remembered what it was like under the covers of his bed, it was likely there too. 

“Warming up?” 

The bed bounced a little where he sat next to you with the tips of his ears pink. As cold as you were, you were certain that he must have been colder. 

“I’m fine. Thank you.” You crossed up your cold feet under your legs. 

“20 minutes? Then I’ll call them?” 

You nodded, pulling up the blanket hem to your nose and covering half your face. 

Changbin breathed out a little laugh. “You look like a marshmallow.” 

“Gee, thanks.” 

“Not a bad thing.” 

His smile fell, and he focused on the silver rings twisting around his fingers. He fiddled with them, and you watched, neither of you knowing really what to do with the silence. After some resolve, he crawled over next to you, to lay facing your bundled up face.

At last, he sighed, “I could tell you about me. If you care.” 

Rather than respond, you merely kept on looking at the way the silver would glimmer in the dim yellow of the light. 

“Everything that I do, I do to rap and to perform. My parents never supported me doing this kind of thing and said that if I wanted to do it, I would loose their support. After a while, I realized their support wasn’t that valuable anyway if it was going to be over something that didn’t matter to me. I moved out after high school, I’ve been doing this ever since.” 

“You like it that much?” 

He cracked his fingers, “Sometimes you just know what it is that you’re gonna spend your life doing. For me, it’s this.” 

Your eyes fell to your own hands which still were speckled with little flecks of acrylic. 

“I know what you mean.” 

“You do?” 

“I...paint. And stuff like that. It’s not my major, it could never be, but I feel like that when I’m mixing the colors together and it’s just right. Helps me get the thoughts outta my head.” 

“Yeah...it’s exactly like that.” 

In the warmth of the blankets, you felt a yawn escape your lips and your eyes grow heavy. Your vision had grown blurry, and your dry eyes begged for sleep, but you could still see the way that creeping little smile tugged at his lips. 

You thought to yourself that it was kind of cute. 

“Thank you for telling me something about you.” 

His voice was some kind of dreamy watercoloring of pale pinks and blues. You thought you had likely imagined it. The weight of his hand on your arm felt weightless too, why was it lingering here? His fingers tickled your ear while he swept your hair behind the skin. 

The way that he whispered, “You’re making me want to kiss you.” must have been some kind of dream too. 

Laying like this, right by your side reminded you for before, and the way that your brain had gone cloudy--you could’ve kissed him like that for hours. 

“You...didn’t stop yourself before.” 

Your challenge was all that he needed to take both sides of your face into his hands connecting himself to you incessantly, but gently. He spilled into your mouth kisses of sky blue and lavender, every single one more dedicated than the last. He kissed like he was dizzy and that you would make it all right for him, and like you were the one that he could find over and over. His mouth was blazing hot with warmth and he missed no part of you, moving on to kiss you in places you didn’t know needed the attention: over your bottom and top lip, in the corners of your mouth and the tip of your nose, carefully on the peach fuzz on your cheeks and the bone of your jawline. Each one was purposeful and sweet and melted into your skin snowflakes. 

His wandering hands were cold under the blankets, but you didn’t mind the sensation against your bare skin where he crept his way in, smoothing over the curves of your body. 

Changbin cascaded is way down, pulling you in by the hips closer to his own body. Your core tightened feeling his hands trickle over your waistband. 

“Can I?” He whispered into his kisses. 

You nodded: your exhaustion mixed with some state of unconscious desperation that you had entwined together, and you were completely at his mercy once more. 

“Yes. I’ve...wanted you to.” 

He popped the button and unzipped your pants with little effort, slipping those same cold fingers into the heat of your folds. You shivered with the two temperatures mingling and the pressure of his fingers on your slicked bud in little circles. 

All you could manage were a couple of attempts at forming some kind of words that would eventually get caught in your throat. With one hand, you clawed at the fabric of his tee, hoping just a little that he liked the way that your nails would dig into his skin. His digits mingled all in your arousal, and brought it back up to your clit to make it twitch. After a while he would let you throw your head back into the pillows to feel every little bit of it and focus only on the way that he would press his fingers in harder and faster, then tease you over with barely touching you at all. He would remove his fingers too, to admire the way that it would string between them, leaving you a writhing mess without him. 

“Bin, please, just wanna--” 

You didn’t need to finish your sentence before he granted your wish. He sped up for you, rubbing in perfect circles for your clit to throb under his touch, closer and closer... 

“Can I--?” 

He didn’t answer you, but instead, leaned down to fill your mouth with more kisses and maintained his pace with forearm muscles flexing slightly. 

Your orgasm was faster and much harder than you had expected: it rocked your whole body, from top to bottom where your legs thrashed and your toes curled. The muscles of your stomach tensed, and you felt your whole core spring upward as you came. Luckily, you remembered to be quiet and kept your breath short and sharp, letting only the tiniest of moans meet the air. 

Changbin helped you ride your orgasm out until you could take no more sensation, then stopped, snapping your underwear hem a little on the way up. He held you close as you caught your breath, snickering a little when your body would shake. Your euphoria calmed you down into an even more exhausted state, but the way that the endorphins coursed though you felt like a high. Greedily, the closeness and the way that your head spun made the word slip out of your mouth. 

“More?” 

Changbin said nothing while he indulged you and peppered your skin with kisses in all those places that you didn’t know needed the attention. He would smile into your lips each time that you would come undone; slipping deeper and deeper into him. 

“M-more. I just want...one...more.” 

╚ ——————————————— ╝

“Just skipping one class isn’t the end of the world. You know that you look like a mess right?” 

Minho, your assigned seat partner turned friend-in-suffering poked his pencil at the baggy black hoodie that you had forgotten to return. On the bus ride to campus, you had realized that you hadn’t taken it off. 

“I know, alright? You don’t have to remind me.” 

“You gonna tell me about it?” Minho poked at you once more with his teasing grin. You retaliated by raising your phone up as if to chuck it at his head. 

Behind the two of you, a group of two ambitious girls hushed as they organized their plethora of colored pens and highlighters. Minho bowed a little sorry in apology. 

His voice dropped to a whisper, “I’m assuming that this isn’t yours.” 

“I-it’s new. I just haven’t worn it before.” 

He scanned over the fabric and the little white brand on the left sleeve. “Huh. Must be a popular one I guess. I’m pretty sure that my one of my friends has the same one.” 

“--Will you lend me something to write on...and with? I...didn’t bring my stuff with me.”

“Really.” Your classmate tore out a piece of his notebook paper--a little extra loudly as well--just for those eavesdropping girls behind you. “You should’ve just not come.” 

To your left, your phone vibrated with the screen illuminated: 

Low Battery: 20% 

[10:39] 

felix: I can’t believe you. You went over there again? Didn’t you say that he looked at you weird or something like that?? What happened?? 

Your heart dropped a little remembering how you had pardoned Felix’s worried nagging and turned on the Find My Friends feature in your phone. 

“shit.” 

Your phone screen lit up the underside of your table as you frantically tapped through your settings to turn off the slide bar. In the corner of your eye, you had seen Minho take his phone under the table as well. 

[10:41]  

CB: good job leaving your keys at my place 

i can’t get them back to you until much later. i’ve got work. 

“shit.” 

me: i have work until later too 

and sorry 

CB: my roommate said that he could get them to you at 5. you’ll be at the library then? 

me: your roommate?? 

CB: relax. he doesn’t give a shit. 

╚ ——————————————— ╝

You read over the messages over and over, refreshing the little chat nearly every two seconds. Over the time waiting, your hand had grown embarrassingly damp, and your foot nervously tapped at the floor to the same tune that your chest thumped with your anxiety. 

This was fucking humiliating. 

Granted, you were no stranger to unsavory behavior, but somehow, this felt even worse. Furthermore, it all could have been avoided: 

What the hell had happened last night? 

It was becoming all too a common theme for you: you didn’t remember falling asleep, only waking up to the blaring of your alarm to those obnoxious Tardis sounds that were just a little too out of date...considering that you had long past all that Dr. Who stuff. 

Changbin had actually left the bed all to you, waking up some time a little before you from sleeping on the couch and offering you some horribly cheap tasting coffee. You still drank it. 

CB: just stand somewhere by the front door. i told him that’s where you’ll be. 

The library overlooked the main quad of your university. In the wintertime, the trees that encircled the usually grassy circle were reduced to craggy and bare fingers powdered in the white snow. 

“What the hell were you thinking?” You scolded yourself though clenched teeth. 

“--Y/n?” 

He had snuck up on you, coming from the right, rather than the front of the entrance. 

You squeaked out, “Oh fuck.” 

Minho twisted your jingling keys around his fingers. 

“This is...” Minho laughed out incredulously, “...a coincidence.” 

You clawed your keys from his hand with a hasty “Thanks.” 

His eyes scanned you up and down as if he was meeting you for the first time, which he certainly wasn’t. 

“The hoodie. Dammit. I should’ve known.” 

“I-I really need to get back inside, they might need me in th--” 

“--So you’ve been screwing him?” 

Your heart thumped even more painfully. 

“Wait, and you’ve been inside my apartment before and I didn’t even know?” 

“Well I didn’t know that you were his roommate!! I didn’t even plan on meeting any of you if I could help it!!” 

“So what is he, like, your type?” 

“HEY. I don’t mean to stay over, it kind of just happens...I didn’t even want to see him after the first time--” 

Minho scoffed then shoved his pink hands into the pockets of his navy and white striped bomber jacket. 

“Will I be seeing you around there now?” 

“--No.” You cut in. “You won’t.” 

Your classmate huffed out a visible breath, “You say that now, but I know that you don’t mean it.” 

“What the hell do you mean?” 

Minho rolled his eyes, then gave the top of your head a chastising pat. 

“If you’re gonna be over, you might as well bring snacks or something. No one in that damn apartment knows how to grocery shop for themselves besides me.” 

╚ ——————————————— ╝

Too many fucking coincidences. 

You had sat yourself at the exact same table that you had sat at the night before, but this time, you watched as it was Changbin who was standing behind the counter of the noodle shop, taking orders, and smiling much too widely for it to have been normal. He was even wearing one of those cutesy little aprons that the rest of the employees had: there was a little chicken embroidered in the corner next to his nametag. 

To anyone else, it made no logical sense why you had decided to show up there: but your frazzled brain still working off your embarrassment from earlier thought this was the best thing to do. You felt like yelling just to get something out of your body. It wasn’t even his fault that his roommate happened to be one of your friends. Your head however, made it his fault. 

He had clocked you from where you had sat fuming, not even looking phased at all. In fact, he had dished out for you one of those smirks. One of those stupid, cute smirks. 

“See you tomorrow.” He clapped his coworker on the back while he took off his apron. 

The shop door creaked out when he opened it. 

“Didn’t expect to see you here. You really wanted to see me that soon already?” 

You shoved the bundle of his hoodie from your hands to his. 

“Here.” 

“You came all this way just to give me my hoodie back? That and I’m assuming Minho told you that I work here.” 

“How come you didn’t tell me that before?” 

“Didn’t seem that important--” 

At last, you let yourself snap. “--You made a fucking fool of me today!! Do you know how awful it was??” 

“Ahhh Minho did say something about knowing you.” 

You had expected sympathy, but rather he teased you with that little cocky grin. Had you known any better, it was almost like he was admiring how flustered you had become. 

One, two, then three fat raindrops fell from from the sky and onto his parka, then the rest followed all at once. The bits of slushy and freezing rain barreled in suddenly and fell sideways. It slapped against the sidewalks and pattered on the shutters and gutters of the buildings lining the road.

“Great! This is just great!!” You pulled your coat over your head. 

Changbin grabbed at your hand without hesitation. “Come with me.” 

╚ ——————————————— ╝

“Open the door!! Open the door!!” 

Frozen bits of snow and rain matted your hair and dripped off into your collar; meeting your bare skin. Your entire body felt as if it had been plunged into a freezing cold ocean, and you shook with ferocity. By now, your jeans had completely soaked through with with water and the denim stuck to your legs. 

Changbin fumbled with his wallet and wet fingers, finally unlocking the door with that same, 

ding-ding-diNG! 

The heater in the little vestibule blasted you with heat upon your entrance: a welcome feeling to your drenched body. He had reached out for your hand to guide you to the elevator even though you knew the way. 

Water dropped off your bodies into the linoleum floor of the elevator and it got all muddled too by prints from your shoes. After, you followed him further into the apartment building, to the very place you had sworn up and down that you would never see again. You didn’t know how many more times you would have to say it out loud before you would actually obey your own words. 

“Fuck--it’s so cold.” 

Changbin clinked his keys into the brass keyhole in the long and dank hallway that had matted red velvet carpeting. There was an odd and old-looking stain in front of his door that you had noticed last time. 

“It’ll be warmer inside.” 

“Are you sure about that?” 

He didn���t need to, but he reached out to you once more to pull you through the doorframe. A sense of determination seemed to sweep over him, and you could just barely see that stormy expression cloud over his eyes. 

“Ah! Y/n! How nice to see you here officially at last!” 

Minho perked up from his book where he was cuddled up on one of those pleather couches in the living room. 

Changbin didn’t give you a chance to to respond, but rather tugged you away down the hallway to the bathroom at the very end nearest his room. 

“Changbin, what are you--” 

He slammed the door behind the two of you, then flicked on the lights at the exact same time as he crashed his whole body into you, flattening your back against the door and scooping up both sides of your face to run his cold lips over yours. His hands were just as cold, and the tips of his bangs dripped tiny droplets of water onto your forehead. 

In your shock, your hands were suspended in the air, but he just as quickly took them to wrap them around his sides. 

The wooden door rattled a little behind your back, but the sounds faded when he deepened his kiss: floating his tongue over your bottom lip and letting out a breathy little gasp along with it. 

“Fuck. You’re really good at making me want you.” 

His voice had turned grave with his want, and he never broke your gaze while he peeled off every single piece of your soaked clothing. His eyes ravished your bare skin riddled with goosebumps, and he immediately took to kissing into your shoulders and collarbones once he had access. You tried your best to help him take his clothes off too, but instead he pushed your hands away to do the task himself. Once he had finished, he connected his lips with yours. 

“Touch me.” He commanded of you. 

You found the request odd, but you still obliged him, starting by running your hands down this pecs then to his abs and around his waist where you scratched at the skin of his lower back. He did the same to you: tracing gentle fingers down your breasts, then going to kneed at them, tweaking the buds just slightly. It wasn’t for long until he encapsulated you completely into his arms, then drew a line into your spine with his ring finger. 

Your body warmed by the second: skin now set ablaze by his teeth grazing the skin of your neck. 

He drew you along with him, then turned on the water to the shower with a metallic sounding groan. Within a couple minutes the whole room filled with a dense steam. He lead you in to the small compartment, stopping too for a moment to watch the way that the water flowed down your body in little transparent veins.

“You’re perfect.” He whispered into the nape of your neck. 

The showering of water was too loud for you to hear, and it wasn’t like you were paying attention anyway. Your phone vibrated where it at fallen in your mess of clothes on the tiled floor. 

[23:27] 

jisung: what the hell’s been up with you the past few days? 

phone break or something?? 

you didn’t see the other texts I sent you? 

are you doing anything right now? 

...

are you 

ok? 

[dindjarindiaries]

Stories and Sunsets

summary: When Cassian has to make regular visits to your medical facility for an injury, you end up becoming much closer than you’d both anticipated.

note: This is anything super fancy or detailed, just a simple and cute little piece to help me ease into writing for a long-time favorite character of mine!

pairing: cassian andor x gn!reader

warnings: blood, broken bones, injuries, good ole fashioned mutual pining, cassian is shy and soft, k2 is… k2, this is my first time writing my dear cassian and i’m sorry if it’s bad

rating: G

word count: 3.952k

masterlist

Of course you’ve heard the stories. Being a medic on the Yavin 4 base has provided you with the unique opportunity to come in contact with all different kinds of Rebellion personnel—from those in tech to those in some of the highest command. Your presence has always been noted as comforting and soothing and that’s caused many patients to practically spill out their life stories to you. That’s why it’s not uncommon that you hear often about people’s work, the things they do and experience, and it’s not unusual that they start to tell the stories of other people, too.

So, of course you’ve heard of Cassian Andor.

He’s always been described as the “silent hero” by your patients, who claim that without his intelligence, most of their battles wouldn’t have been possible. You’re not so sure he’s such a “silent hero” if seemingly everyone reveres him as one—but nevertheless you sit back and you listen, wondering how you’ve never met him yourself. If he’s truly doing these dangerous missions, you’d expect that he’d suffer some kind of injury along the way.

The day he walks through your door, you don’t even know it’s him. You’re much too distracted at first by the subtle bowing of his head as he enters the room, a sign of both respect and reservation. His chestnut eyes swim with an emotion you can’t read from such a distance as he closes the door with his left arm, lifting it to support his right one soon after. He stands and waits for further direction, and you have to force yourself to stay focused as you invite him to sit on your examination table.

“So, which Rebellion hero do I have the honor of working with today?” you greet with your usual cheeriness, turning towards your database to look up your patient’s name.

“Cassian,” he answers, his voice low and rather hushed. You freeze, your fingers hovering over the screen as your eyes widen. You’re grateful that you have your back turned to him.

“Last name?” you go on, pretending as if you haven’t already heard about this man a thousand times over.

“Oh—Andor. Sorry.” His apology is curt yet genuine, causing you to smile to yourself as you type in his name.

“No worries, Captain Andor,” you assure him, pulling up the necessary records you’ll need to treat him. “I must say, I’m surprised you haven’t been in before.”

“You can just call me Cassian,” he insists, his voice getting stronger the more he talks to you. “Please.”

“Of course, Cassian.” Your voice doesn’t hide your smile as you finally turn to face him, watching as his dark gaze rises to meet yours. You can now truly see how deep they are, how this one look alone feels like a bridge connecting two souls together, and you can’t help wondering what he’s gotten people to do in the name of the Rebellion with such a stare. You slap yourself internally at the thought, refusing to lose yourself in the fantasies of the stories you’ve been told in this very room, instead focusing on the very man himself. “What brings you in today?”

“My arm.” Cassian shrugs the shoulder of his right arm, which he’s still supporting with his left one. “I thought it was manageable, but the adrenaline wore off, I returned to base, and—.”

“—Commander Mothma ordered you to come here.” You finish the thought for Cassian, not wanting him to feel as if he’s losing part of his honor as he gives you a small nod. You smile reassuringly down at him. “I’m guessing you don’t like to inconvenience the medics with things you think you can handle on your own.” Cassian nods once again at you, his eyes growing a bit larger at your easy understanding of him. “Well, don’t worry, Cassian. This is my job, after all. You risk your life trying to free the galaxy and I try to reverse the risk.”

Cassian chuckles at that, and for some reason, you feel a swell of pride in your chest for humoring him. “That’s one way to put it.” His gaze then melts into yours again, and he seems to almost drift away from this place for a moment before he clears his throat. “So, uh—my arm.” He taps his fingers gently against his forearm. “I was in a skirmish, and it hit metal hard.”

You nod in understanding, walking closer to his side as you start to reach out for his arm. “May I?” you ask softly, earning a nod as he pulls his left hand away to give you space. You gingerly ease the sleeve of his canvas shirt up to his elbow, allowing a full view of his arm—and the bruised part just in the middle of it. Your fingers ghost over the skin before your eyes meet his again, seeing the small glimmer of fear he tries to hide within the wonder of your tender actions. “I’m going to apply some pressure, tell me the severity of the pain when I do so.”

Cassian nods at you, but the moment you start to press your fingertips down into his flesh, he lets out a hiss from behind gritted teeth—and his left hand instinctively reaches out to grip at your upper arm. You instantly relieve the pressure as Cassian blinks a few times, retracting his hand from you almost as if he’s been burned. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes quickly, his gaze averting yours as he instead focuses on where his hand now grips his thigh. “I didn’t mean to do that.”

“I know,” you assure him. “I’ve gotten much more severe reactions, don’t worry.”

Cassian raises an eyebrow as you continue to assess his arm without jostling it around too much. “Really?”

You furrow your brow. “Oh, yeah. Punches, kicks, screams—nothing’s off the table when you’re dealing with some of the stuff I’ve seen.”

Cassian scoffs lightly at that. “I guess our jobs aren’t so different after all.”

You chuckle at that, leaving Cassian’s side for a moment to rummage through your drawers for supplies. “I wouldn’t say that. I can handle a blaster, but I’m no fighter.”

“I’m not a fighter, either.” There’s a hint of amusement in his tone as you set your supplies down by his side. “I’m a spy.”

You hum at Cassian’s words, raising an eyebrow as you reach for a bacta-infused wrap. “Not a fighter, huh?” You look from his arm to his eyes, seeing the ghost of a smile that tugs at his lips and starts to shine in his eyes. “This is quite the wound for a simple spy.” You gingerly begin to wrap the material around his arm, making sure it’s sturdy but not painful as you do so. “This is a break that’d bring any non-trained person to their knees—but you seem to have made it out just fine.”

“Okay, then, I’m a spy who knows how to fight. Better?” Cassian’s words are nothing but playful, now, and you can’t help chuckling as you nod without looking away from his arm.

“Sure. I guess I could consider myself a spy, too.”

Cassian nearly retracts his arm at your words, and you realize you might’ve struck a nerve as you look to see his dark eyes narrowed at you. “And who are you spying on?” His words are void of that earlier playfulness, suspicious thanks to what he’s seen—and you don’t blame him for it.

Instead, you offer him a reassuring smile. “My patients talk, Cassian, because people talk when they’re nervous. Let’s just say I get to know the people of the Rebellion very well after a day’s work.”

Cassian visibly relaxes at your words, the tension falling from his body in waves as you continue your wrapping of his arm. “I see.” He pauses, and you can tell he’s thinking something over deeply before he speaks again. “Who do they talk about?”

You bite back a smile as you finish off the wrap, making sure it’s secure around his arm and up to his hand before you pull your hands away and face him. He’s wearing an expression of curiosity and slight dread. “Yes, I’ve been told stories about you, Cassian.”

You can see Cassian’s face start to flush and he tries to hide it by looking down at his arm that’s now wrapped up, his jaw twitching a bit. “What kinds of stories?”

“Good ones.” You reach for the cloth to form his sling, easing it around his shoulder and bringing the ends back towards his arm. You try to ignore the sparks you feel on your fingertips when they brush against him. “Don’t worry, Cassian. You’re a hero in the Rebellion’s eyes.”

Cassian huffs. “At least I’m a hero to someone.”

You know the comment was meant more to himself, but you can’t help giving him a look of sympathy and sharing your own thoughts once you’ve secured his sling. “If even half of what I’ve heard is true, you deserve the title of hero to everyone. I’m sure what you see and do isn’t easy, but remember what you’re doing it for.”

Cassian still frowns. “And what about people like you?” He gestures with his good hand to where you stand just in front of him. “People who hold us together, but never get any appreciation for it? You know, I’m… not very good about people trying to take care of me, but the way you distracted me effortlessly while you wrapped up my arm just now? That’s—well, it’s remarkable.”

You can feel your face getting hot and you try not to make that obvious, instead bowing your head at him in respect. “Thank you. I’m just doing my job.”

“And you’re doing it very well.” You share a smile that lasts for a long moment, especially as he stands up and faces you more closely. “I can’t thank you enough for your help. I should probably come here more often—you do a much better job than I do.”

You laugh at that, holding a hand up at him. “I wouldn’t leave just yet.” You gesture towards his slinged arm. “You’ve got a bacta-infused wrap on that, which needs to be changed once a day. It’ll hopefully speed up the repairs to the bone so that you’re looking at two weeks of healing instead of more.”

Cassian’s eyes widen at your words and an eyebrow instantly juts up. “Two weeks?”

You grimace at him. “I’m afraid so, Cassian. I’m sorry.”

Cassian shakes his head at you. “Don’t apologize. I appreciate that you’re trying to make it go by faster.” His chestnut eyes are genuine, soft, and you easily feel your gaze melting into them.

You quietly clear your throat and give him a nod. “Like I said, that’s my job.” You begin to clean up your materials, unable to remain under his intense gaze any longer as your mind starts to get distracted in the same way it had when he first walked in the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

You hear Cassian shuffling around behind you. “See you tomorrow…” he pauses, and you can hear him stalling by the door as he waits to ask you something, “what’s your name?” You give him your name, looking over your shoulder to see him nod as he repeats it with a small smile and he leaves.

He doesn’t leave your mind for the entire rest of the day—nor the beginning of the next one.

Cassian’s dark gaze is embedded in your mind, glowing in the way it had when he smiled with amusement and amazement at you. It’d said so much more than he had—which didn’t surprise you, since you could easily tell he was a man more of actions than of words. You have to try your best not to spill something about it to any patients that visit you before he does, instead letting them drive the conversations as you patch them up.

When Cassian finally pushes his way inside, you both can’t help smiling at each other, the action shy for both of you yet so sure. This time, he guides himself right over to the examination table, sitting just as he had the day before as you instantly begin to question him.

“How’s the arm today, Captain?” you ask, earning a chuckle from Cassian’s direction as you get a new wrap out of your drawer. “You weren’t doing any spying around after your appointment yesterday, right?”

“Unless you count briefings as spying, then no,” Cassian assures you, and you see his eyes glowing as you approach him with the wrap. He easily offers up his arm to you, letting you tend to it with the trust of a companion of many years. As you begin to work, he becomes the one to initiate further conversation as proper distraction. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” you assure him, easing his arm out of the sling and starting to gingerly unwrap it.

“You’ve heard a lot of stories about other people, like you said before,” Cassian begins—in a tone that makes it clear he’s been reflecting on this thought for much longer than this very moment—, “but has anyone asked about your story?”

You stop what you’re doing for a moment, your gaze meeting his as you look at him in soft amazement. His eyes are genuinely curious, and if you let yourself give a bit more into your longing, you can also sense some care amongst it all. “No.” Your voice sounds distant, causing you to clear your throat as you resume your actions. “I can’t say anyone has, Cassian.”

“Can I become the first, then?”

You smile at Cassian’s words, nodding as you begin to place the new wrap around his arm. You start to tell him all about how you ended up here, the story of your parents helping early on with the Rebel cause and teaching you all they knew of medicine and healing. They’d been doctors for the Republic, forced to flee your home planet after an invasion during the later part of the Clone Wars. This start to your story alone—all you have time for as you finish off his wrap and tie his sling back up—already has Cassian invested, and you can tell by the way his dark eyes glow in an almost childlike manner up at you.

“So, you started helping out in this fight when you were young?” Cassian asks, not making the move just yet to stand up from the examination table as you discard his old wrap.

“Yes,” you confirm, cleaning up some more of your supplies before you face him again.

“Then, I guess we have another similarity,” Cassian says, giving you a small smile of comfort as he rises. “Do I get the rest of the story tomorrow?”

You nod at him, returning his smile. “Sure, Cassian.”

“Good. Then I have another thing to look forward to.” He then heads for the door, leaving you a flustered mess on your own as you shake your head.

Over the next few days, you get to fill Cassian in on the rest of your story as you replace his wraps. The appointments get drawn out a little bit longer every time, as you both become more and more hesitant to walk out on each other. Once you’re done sharing your story, Cassian gives you his from his own perspective. Your heart breaks for everything he went through as such a young age, but the way he’s been able to grow from it reminds you of yourself. He’s finished sharing his story by your second-to-last appointment, and it just so happens to be at the end of your workday.

“Are you done with your shift?” Cassian questions as he watches you start to shut everything down.

“Yes, for today,” you answer softly.

“Oh. That’s perfect.”

You raise an eyebrow as you stop what you’re doing, looking at him with slight amusement. “And why is that, Captain?”

Cassian shrugs a bit, the action much easier for him with all his healing than it’d been even just days ago. “Because I… well, I wanted to know if you wanted to tour around the base.” You can feel your gaze soften at him as he goes on. “I know you said you wish you could see more, do more—even though you do enough—so I thought maybe I could at least show you more outside of this room.”

His words are a bit of a ramble, and you can’t help giggling to yourself at the fact that you’ve got the famous Captain Andor flustered on your examination table. “I think that’d be very nice, Cassian.”

Cassian’s eyes light up at you, and he nods as he practically leaps up from the table. “Yeah? That’s great.” He waits for you to finish up, getting the door for you on the way out. “Maybe we could start with my ship.”

You shrug, looking over at him with a warm smile. “That sounds good to me.”

Cassian leads you over to the hangar, where seemingly every single passerby greets him with a respectful “Captain” or a simple nod and wave of their hands. You can’t help raising an eyebrow and looking over at him, watching him scoff playfully at you. “What?”

“Still think you’re not a hero?” There’s nothing but amusement in your voice, and Cassian easily accepts it as he rolls his eyes with a smile. You’ve already arrived at his ship and he leads you inside with a dramatic sweep of his left arm.

“Here she is,” Cassian announces as he shows you the hull, causing you to chuckle.

“Here is who—,” a mechanical voice starts to say, but then cuts itself off. You look further inside and see a black Imperial droid—one you’d heard about in the stories of Cassian’s adventures.

“Kay, you didn’t tell me you were fixing her up tonight,” Cassian sighs, and you watch as the droid tilts his helmet in your direction. He gestures to you. “This is—.”

“—that medic you always talk about,” the droid finishes for Cassian, and you have to hold back a chuckle as Cassian’s face starts to go red. “I figured.”

“I don’t always…” Cassian trails off, heaving another sigh as he places his good hand on his hip. He gives his head a shake. “You’re losing it, Kay.”

“I’m simply reporting what I’ve observed,” the droid insists.

“I’m sorry,” Cassian apologizes to you, raising his brow as he gestures to the droid. “Kay’s probably got a few loose wires.”

“I do not, thank you very much,” the droid retorts. “My diagnostics are looking perfect, actually.” Cassian rolls his eyes, and you giggle to yourself at their playful exchange. “The least you could do is introduce me, too. I’m—.”

“K-2SO,” you finish for him, nodding in his direction. “I know. I’ve heard.”

K2 sits up taller in his chair. “You’ve heard about me?” He then looks pointedly at Cassian. “Oh, I’m sure you have.”

“I didn’t tell them anything,” Cassian snaps, and you can’t help laughing at their banter that’s not unlike an old married couple.

“My patients like to tell stories, K2,” you assure the droid. “You’ve been named in a few I’ve heard of Cassian.”

K2 goes back to what he was doing as he replies. “I’m glad that I’m finally getting some recognition around here.” Cassian raises an eyebrow at his words. “I hope it’s the good kind.”

“Nothing short of heroic,” you inform him.

K2 turns back around at that, looking at Cassian with brightened electric eyes. “I like them, Cassian. Try not to scare them away.”

“I don’t think I’d be the one to do that,” Cassian scoffs, making you chuckle as he starts to lead the way back out of the ship. When you’re a few paces away, he begins to speak again, this time reverting to his shyer self as he looks over at you. “I’m sorry about him, he’s… gotten pretty bold. I think it’s his programming.”

You laugh softly and lay a hand upon his shoulder. “It’s all right, Cassian. I think he was pretty funny.”

“At least one of us does.”

You laugh again and let your hand fall back to your side, remaining attentive as Cassian takes you through the mini-tour of the base. There’s already quite a few things you’ve already seen, so he just gives you a feel for what he sees on a typical day. You can see the small amount of pride he takes in his work, something you know he probably doesn’t often reflect upon, and it causes you to smile. You know why he’s been revered the way he has—and you find that you’re much more interested in this part of the cause than you’d even thought before.

This is something Cassian picks up on as he takes you to his final spot, a place high up in the base where he can rest and reflect after a long day or mission and watch the sunset. He sits beside you in silence initially, but after you share a few looks, he starts to speak again.

“I’ve been thinking,” Cassian starts, his voice low and unsure as his gaze nervously points to the setting sun. You look at him with a comforting gaze and a raised brow, wanting to ease him yet also feeling curious. “Kay and I, we could probably use some more company. Things have started to get risky on our own.” You begin smiling, easily understanding what he’s hinting at. “Especially when it comes to quick fixes—you know, medically—.”

“Captain Andor, is this an invitation to join your crew?”

Cassian looks over at you quickly, reading your expression with precision as some of the tension starts to fall off his shoulders. “I mean, if you’re willing to. I know you’ve got a secure enough position here, but… if you wanted to see and do more, we’d love to have you.”

Your smile grows as you nod at him. “I think I’d like that a lot, Cassian.”

His chestnut eyes glow even more at that, and you can feel a fluttering in your chest as a smile takes over his lips. “Really?” He then clears his throat, giving you a nod. “Great. I can talk to my superiors about it tomorrow.”

You nod, unable to keep the smile off your lips as you look out at the view with him. “You have to teach me how to use a blaster, though.”

Cassian looks over at you with a raised brow. “Don’t worry, we’ll be spending a lot of time training together.”

You look over at him with warmth in your eyes. “I like the sound of that, Cassian,” you confess, gently nudging his shoulder with your own.

“So do I,” he agrees, his gaze sharing that same warmth as he lets you get just a bit closer to him—and you know this is just the beginning of something bigger than you ever could’ve thought up the day he walked through your door.

permanent tag list: @mikahidalgo @bestintheparsec @stilllivindue2spite @givemethatgold @xbrujita @mandalorianspace @blushingwueen @sevvysaurus @myakai13 @thisis-theway @beskars @rachelloveseveryone @theindiealto @hiscyarika @wickedfrsgrl @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @bookwafflefangirl @charliepeaceout @cable-kenobi @ezraslittleblondestreak @hdlynn @your-pixels-are-showing @b0n-chann @javier-djarin @nettyklecan @mistermiraclee @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @smellssharpies @catfishingmorales @badassbaker @wille-zarr @kaetastic @saltywintersoldat @agentpike @mrsparknuts @readsalot73​ @yespolkadotkitty​ @mandhoelorian @lilangeldevil006 @cyaredindjarin @roxypeanut @phoenixhalliwell @hail-doodles @randomness501 @this-cat-is-dea @hopplessdreamer @paintballkid711 @captain-skytrash @whataenginerd @katlikeme @petertingless @propertyofdindjarin @theocatkov @bisexual-space-slut @cyaredindjarin​ @arkofblake​ @cryptkeepersoul​ @motleymoose​ @mrschiltoncat​ @f0rever15elf​ @lady-of-nightmares-and-heartache

star wars characters tag list: @professionalfangirl55 @nerd-without-a-cause​ @starwarsslytherin​

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 130

I am pretty excited for this chapter, not just for how it turned out but for what it sets up in the future. I don’t want to spoil it by saying anything more, but once y’all have read it, I would love to know your thoughts on it.

That said, I once again want to thank the people, coast to coast, who keep me going on this story: @the-raven-fae for being the original instigator and current podcaster of the story (check it out here!), @anotherusrname for being the best big sister a girl could ask for and for being the first person to publish any of this story in physical form (on a BLANKET no less), @baelpenrose for being my mutual beta and really egging me on more often than should probably be done, and @charlylimph-blog for... well for just being Charly. The real Charly, who is more chaotic than fictional Charly. And really, all 4 of the above for making sure I take care of myself.

“There’s some changes to the vendor list this year,” Hannah greeted as she arrived in my office.

I was still resisting the urge to cough, knowing that Noah had gotten all the chili powder out of me but nonetheless struggling against an imaginary itch in my throat.  Apparently she could tell, because she got a chai latte from the console for me as she took a seat and handed it over without acknowledging it. 

“From this list, I am going to guess that there is a huge fusion cuisine moment happening right now,” Parvati suggested.

“What gave it away? The Greek-Korean vendor, or the Brazilian-Icelandic?” Hannah joked.

I was extremely glad I had stopped sipping my latte as soon as Parvati spoke, or I would have choked on it. Yes! I thwarted the nefarious beverage! I thought to myself. “Do I even want to know how much fermented shark we are talking here?”

Parvati scrolled through her document and back to where she was, head tilted in scrutiny. “Probably not.”

“I’ll make a note to put them on the opposite end from the natto,” Hannah murmured. After doing that, she tipped her head back with a sigh. “This feels… I don’t know, empty?”

“What do you mean?” I asked, scrolling through a list of upcoming cultural seminars that we were considering.  Jokul’s suggestion to more aggressively share cultures had been a  phenomenally well-received one, and the Council had even recognized him for the way it had taken off. At this point, there were more than anyone could attend, and several requests for repeats.

My entire thought process came screeching to a halt when Hannah explained.

“We’re talking about a huge community event while also in the process of planning how to defend ourselves in the event that space pirates try to wipe out the last known members of humanity,” she pointed out. “While also being on a list of phrases I never thought to even consider being something I thought I would never say - it’s that far out there - the fact that we are still facing potential annihilation makes the Food Festival seem more like one last hurrah.  It’s kind of morbid, isn’t it?”

“I’m pretty sure the information Arthur and Charly got us demonstrated that we are more likely to be enslaved than exterminated,” Parvati added helpfully, earning a scowl from both of us. She just shrugged. “I’m just saying.”

“Yes, Vati, because that is so much better, thank you for reminding me,” Hannah quipped. “It still makes the Festival feel insignificant.”

“Maybe we should just cancel it - “

I slammed both my hands, palm down, on the table and surged to my feet. “Absolutely not.”

“Sophia - “

“No. This event is too important, we aren’t even humoring that notion.”

“I know that this is your baby, but hear us out…”

I shook my head vigorously. “I will not. This isn’t about me.” I pointed to both of them. “What you’re feeling right now? That’s exactly how nearly everyone on this ship feels. We are scared, and angry, and tilting ever closer to being despondent and just giving up. And that’s exactly why weeeee…” I gestured to the three of us, “can’t. We need stability, and something familiar, and a reminder of what it is like to live. To have fun.  To be as human as possible and stuff ourselves silly.  So if you think for one second I am going to let our own personal culinary Mardi Gras get cancelled, you are delusional.”

Hannah still looked reluctant, but Parvati’s expression changed so fast that it was actually terrifying. “You’re talking about raging against the dying of the light, aren’t you?”

There it was. The guerilla protester was starting to show.

Gracefully, she flowed to her feet, one finger tapping the side of her chin as she started pacing. “That’s an angle I don’t think we considered.” Without looking, she held up a hand to stop Hannah when the quieter woman opened her mouth to argue. “The Festival has always been about coming together, sharing, being peaceful. But, what if it isn’t this year?” She whirled, hair flying and eyes blazing. “The Festival will be two weeks into the next night cycle. We planned on soft emitters, retro style lamps and braziers for light. And we can still do that for the first two days. But day three…”

“Go all out,” Hannah ventured slowly. “Full on, wild, bright…”

“Yes! Blacklights, glow in the dark, fluorescents… Heavy bass in the music, the kind you feel in your chest more than you hear. Only the best dishes from each vendor, what they consider their finest achievements. Defiantly, loudly human.”

“Costumes encouraged?”

She scoffed. “Of course. Like those music festivals Before, only with food.  This isn’t our last hurrah, it’s going to be our rallying cry.”

Hannah seemed to be coming around to the notion, starting to nod with a focused expression on her face. “That would work. I can completely get behind that idea.  We’ll need Ivan.”

“And Charly Harper,” Parvati confirmed.

“Do tell,” I asked, not seeing where they were going with this.

“Ivan can help us with some of the metalwork we’ll need to reinforce the vendor’s booths. We want it to fit in with the theme, but still be functional.”

“And I don’t know where else to get enough glitter, or blacklight paint that doesn’t show under normal light.”

“Glitter…?” That terrified feeling was returning, and swiftly.

“So much glitter,” Parvati nodded seriously. “The kind that doesn’t set off sensory issues, and I know she has it at all times, I’ve seen it.  And flavorless food color, that stuff she uses in her ice cream and popcorn. I need all of it.”

I rubbed my temples as a headache started just from imagining what this was going to look like. She’s an artist, it will work. She’ll make it work, I know she will. “I put the Festival in your hands, you can do whatever you want except cancel it.”

“Just give Tyche a heads up so she can plan good costumes for you and the guys,” Hannah reassured, enthusiasm ignited at the idea of truly making the event their own.

The frown on my face actually gave me a cramp. “Why does someone else get to plan our costumes?”

“Because you wear really nice scrubs every day,” she pointed out without looking up.

“They’re comfy! But I’ll have you know I actually do know how to put together a costume, much less an outfit.”

Both of them eyed me skeptically, provoking a sigh of exasperation. “I am going to show you two, and you are both going to eat your words. Just wait.”  Deep down, under all the indignation, I was hugely relieved to have averted a crisis, especially since it wasn’t a matter of life and death for once.

I also could not wait to see their faces on night three.

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[moonbeambucky]

Hey Neighbor (Part 5)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 2276 Warnings: mentions of physical/verbal child abuse

Summary: You had a plan and then life came along with one of its own. With your future almost derailed you worked hard to get yourself back on track and finally everything seemed to be going right… that is, until your new neighbor moved in.

A/N: A huge thank you to my wonderful beta Sam @buckyofthemyscira​​​ Feedback is always appreciated!

PART 4 | HEY NEIGHBOR MASTERLIST

The subway doors opened letting people spill out before the anxious crowd pushed their way in. Some people rush to find the best spot, leaning against the railing of the wall or beside the door that leads to the other cars, others look for a seat or grab a pole to hold on to.

Everyone kept to themselves though there’s a knowing look between a few, in search of the source of the terrible odor that fills the car. Summer may almost be over but the use of deodorant should never, ever stop.

You couldn’t wait to be home, not only to save your nose from further inhaling the awful stench but because you needed to prepare your outfit for the following day. You put in to leave work a few hours early and unbeknownst to Maria it was so you could interview at Metro-General with Ms. Rodriguez.

You needed to make a good impression. The deadline for submitting your internship paperwork was quickly approaching and you really wanted to have everything settled.

When you were finally home you kicked off your shoes and swapped your blouse and skirt for a more comfortable pair of leggings and a loose tank top. Your closet was full of options and you pulled down a few hangers but you couldn’t think straight. Your stomach rumbled with hunger so you decided to make something to eat.

Opening the cabinet you found a value sized box of macaroni and cheese, something you had bought on those few occasions you made something at home for when Steve would come over and knowing his appetite, family sized meals were the most appropriate.

Water began to boil on the stove as you went back to the items hanging off the closet door knob. With food on the horizon you were able to decide on a white striped button down with slim navy trousers and beige heels. Some basic jewelry was set aside, nothing too flashy.

As you poured the macaroni into the boiling water you realized just how much food there was going to be but at least you would have leftovers. Chalky orange powder floated in the air as you mixed the “cheese” in with the cooked pasta, stirring around to ensure everything was properly coated.

Setting the food aside you opened your fridge to grab a drink, debating what would go best with mac and cheese before you heard a knock at your door. Steve was at the gym and even though you were overdue to see Wanda you didn’t think she would just drop in without notice.

Looking through the peephole your heart raced. Bucky.

Unlocking the door you pulled it open and smiled at your unexpected visitor. “Hey neighbor.”

He smiled, quickly taking in your casual appearance. Bucky didn’t know you very well but he did know that you were a busy woman and any chance you took to relax should be thoroughly enjoyed.

“Hey Y/N. Sorry to bother you but…” He brought his hand up with a snap, presenting the match to your missing sock. “I think this belongs to you. I hope it does at least, otherwise it would be weird that I stole a random sock,” he laughed.

You reached forward for the sock, immediately recognizing it as yours. Your face questioned how he found it and Bucky explained it must have been left in the washing machine.

“Aww thanks!”

“You’re welcome. Uhh, well, I’ll let you get back to your evening.”

Bucky took a step to walk towards his door before you called out to stop him. He turned around with surprise written on his face.

“So, I kinda made enough mac and cheese to feed a small army and if I’m being honest with myself I know I’ll wind up heating some up in the middle of the night and definitely regretting it.”

Bucky laughed at your admission which made you smile even wider.

“So what I’m trying to get at here is, are you hungry?”

Bucky hadn’t expected to hear that from you and upon further clarification he certainly didn’t expect you to be inviting him inside your apartment, but he happily did so, following behind you.

He stared at your apartment thinking somehow you had so much more space than he did even though the units were identical. He smiled at the delicate decor around your bedding, the feminine curtain framing your bed with soft lights shining through it. It made your bed seem inviting, like a soft cloud floating amongst the starry night sky.

You lead Bucky to your table, pushing books aside and piling stacks of paper on top of them.

“Your place is cute,” Bucky commented as his head continued to look around and observe things.

Two bowls were brought down as you scooped heaping amounts of the mac and cheese into them, placing one in front of Bucky and the other at the empty spot beside him.

“Uh, I’m not actually sure what drinks go with this,” you admitted, chuckling as you turned back to Bucky.

Opening the refrigerator again you called out what you had and Bucky accepted a beer and you snapped open a White Claw and took a sip. He eyed you suspiciously and smirked.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you joked.

Bucky ran his fork through the food, biting his lips to hold back an even bigger smile. “Like what?” he not-so-innocently asked.

“It’s the same look Steve gives me. I know they’re trendy but they’re actually really good!” you defended, taking a forkful of the still steaming macaroni.

“Is that your boyfriend?”

“Steve?! No, he’s just a really good friend.”

“Oh I just assumed since I know he’s here a lot.”

Your face twisted in confusion, worrying for a moment about the person you let into your apartment until Bucky eased your mind with the words you once told him, “thin walls.”

“Right.” You were partially relieved that your neighbor was not a creepy stalker, but you hoped you hadn’t heard all the times you were venting about him.

“Steve comes over to hang out and watch movies and stuff.”

“Oh, Netflix and chill? Do people still say that?” he wondered out loud.

“I don’t think they do,” you laughed. “Why, you jealous?”

You didn’t believe the words spoken had come out of your mouth. Where that brazen flirtation came from you don’t think you’ll ever know.

Bucky was just as caught off guard, swallowing his food at the same time unexpected nerves bubbled to the surface. “No…” he began.

“I’m just kidding. You don’t seem like the jealous type, especially with your, uh, frequent visitors.” Somehow things didn’t seem as awkward as the last time you brought the subject up.

“Yeah I’m not really a relationship guy,” he said confidently.

You found yourself explaining Steve’s situation with Lillian and how he needed a friend to take his mind off the pain. “I can’t blame him, having your trust broken like that is awful. He’s not ready to get back out there yet.”

Visible dark hair was speckled under his chin as Bucky tipped his head back to take a swig of the bottle. The bobbing of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed mesmerized your eyes, as did the single swipe of his tongue across his plump lips to lick away the excess liquid.

“What about you?” he asked.

“Me? I couldn’t tell you what a relationship was if it hit me in the face.”

Lazily you swirled the fork around your food. “I’ve been so busy with school the last few years and working full time on top of it. It’s rare that I meet someone new, let alone devote any time to them.”

You explained the history of your living situation to Bucky and the reason behind all those nights you’ve spent studying at The Grind House.

“That’s definitely stressful,” he let out a sigh. “So why social work?”

Sometimes people know what they want to be from a young age. If they really like animals they might become veterinarians or zoologists. Some people have a knack for science, some for teaching, others for law. Bucky has clearly loved music even before he realized he could make a career of it.

Things were always different for you. There was never a clear choice. You had hobbies but nothing ever stood out and even as you grew older and your interests changed there was still never a distinct path of where you wanted to take your life, not until everything you thought you knew about your best friend had been a lie.

You took a moment to collect yourself before opening up. Throughout your first year of middle school you were seated next to Pietro Maximoff, a friendly, quick witted class clown that made each day brighter.

Pietro’s twin Wanda was separated into a different class but you all shared the same lunch period and became friends. You were never allowed to go to the Maximoff’s house and you didn’t question it too much. You didn’t mind when Wanda hung out in your room after school but she was always in a rush to get home before dinner, before her father got home from work.

It wasn’t until high school that you learned about Django Maximoff and the violence he inflicted on his children. His drinking had always been out of control but he managed it until one day when he was driving and he nearly hit another car. Pietro was worried and questioned if his father was alright, his concerns were answered with a rough fist.

As his drinking increased so did the physical abuse which he enforced over anything. If Pietro ate too quickly Django smacked his head and told him to slow down. If Wanda ate too slow he would kick her shins with heavy boots under the table and tell her to not chew her food like a cow.

Their mother Marya sported bruises that matched her children as Django didn’t hold back with her either. He blamed her and the kids for all the problems they were having. If bills were too high it was because the kids watched too much TV. That problem was solved quickly one night when he threw Pietro into it.

He got the worst of the abuse, often protecting Wanda when he could, telling her to hide in a closet or under the bed as he took each whip of the belt and every spiteful word that spewed from Django’s evil tongue.

Marya wanted to leave Django but he threatened to kill the children in front of her if she tried, he told Wanda and Pietro the same thing and so the family were hostages in their own home, left to keep their painful truth a secret for as long as they could.

You hated the days of Pietro’s absence, selfishly missing the way your friend could always make you laugh when unbeknownst to you he was at home recovering from an injury that was too great to hide at school.

A drunken crash finally removed Django from their lives but the damage was done. Left with large debts and little money Marya struggled to keep a roof over their heads.

Sometimes people do the wrong thing for the right reasons. By the time you were in high school Pietro dropped out and got involved with some bad people. The gang he was with gave him the opportunity to help provide for his mother and Wanda but they protested. Marya was looking into moving somewhere else, declare bankruptcy and start over, start fresh but it was too late.

“Pietro died.” Your voice cracked as the pain of bringing up the memories flooded your heart. “There was a shooting with a rival gang. Piet didn’t even have a gun but he ran out in the middle of everything to protect some kid from the crossfire.”

Bucky noticed the tears that brimmed over your eyes. You took another sip from the can, hoping that as you tipped your head back the tears would retreat. You really didn’t want to cry and make things awkward.

With another deep inhale you continued, “Pietro was robbed of his childhood and nobody did anything to protect him. It always stuck with me, I think about the signs looking back. There should have been someone there to help them, to intervene when they were growing up maybe, just maybe this wouldn’t have happened.”

A tear managed to slip out but you wiped it away quickly. You didn’t have to say anymore, Bucky understood why. Every long day at work followed by a longer night of school, every minute you spent devoted to your studies, all of it was worth it to bring you closer to the promise you made yourself, helping the Pietro’s of the world that needed a hand to pull them from the darkness.

Dinner was finished shortly after and Bucky offered to help clean up but you declined. Bringing up the past made you long for a good, deep cry, one you didn’t really want to do in front of your new neighbor.

Bucky lingered at the door before leaving, acting on the thoughts he quickly processed in his mind. He leaned in to hug you, quickly because he wasn’t quite sure if you would be okay with that but firm enough to offer emotional support after you opened up to him. You nearly cried again as you felt his strong hold against you but thankfully you held out, letting the tears slip out after the door shut behind him. Bucky wasn’t so bad after all. 

PART 6

[mlm-writer]

Red Tape and Cutting Corners - CH5: Blowing Off Steam

Masterlist + metadata on this fic

A drop of sweat rolled down the C-sec officer’s temple as he waited for his colleagues to return, hands stuck in biotic dampeners. Interestingly, the cuffs calmed his migraine a little. Either that or his meds were working for a change. It was hard to tell if it was him or his partner that brought on the interrogation this morning. He had a feeling it was Garrus though and not only because most questions were centred around his Turian partner. If Kaidan had to take a wild guess, his partner had the tendency to solve cases at 5 protocol breaches an hour. The door opened and said partner stood there with a triumphant look on his face. One could see a Turian for the first time and still spot the victory edged in his features. “Missed me?”

“What the hell, Garrus,” Kaidan replied as his partner freed him from the biotic dampeners. “What did you do?”

Garrus held his hands up. “Hey, I am obviously a free man. Here.” Kaidan could not take the datapad from Garrus’ hand soon enough and then wished he didn’t finish that huge bagel this morning. Crime scene photos, most of them from a dead body, promised to haunt him as they appeared on the screen. The body had a huge gaping wound at the base of the neck, the knife still in her hand and blood everywhere. “Recognise her?”

Kaidan squinted at the screen. It was an Asari. “The facial markings are familiar,” he finally said, thinking it a better thing to say than ‘yeah sorry I still can’t tell Asari apart. They all look blue’. Garrus let out a frustrated noise and took the datapad to scroll through the pictures.

“How is your memory this bad? That’s Naia.” He put the datapad on the table, the screen displaying a business card with 4 digits written on them. “And that’s my card.” Before Kaidan could ask anything, Garrus tossed a sealed bag with a flyer on the table. “And that’s what they found in the safe they opened with the code on my card.” Kaidan turned the bag over, taking in as much of the flyer, without taking it out.

“That’s the club the medi-dispenser led us to,” he nearly whispered as his brain worked over-time to find out what a dead Asari and a lost medi-gel dispenser had in common. It seemed like the set up for a bad joke.

“Now we have that warrant to turn the place upside down. Want to come along? Captain put us on this.” Kaidan gave his smug partner a shove and finally stood up from the chair in the interrogation room. Any longer and he would have had to walk around with the thing stuck to his behind.

Nothing was as satisfying as seeing the Asari that so confidently told them to fuck off yesterday, looking almost baby blue when they stormed the place with a unit. What posed as a normal 24/7 club had a rather large back section full of inebriated Asari, who hardly had any idea of what was going on. Garrus and Kaidan were standing in one of the private rooms with the owner sitting cuffed to a chair, studying the small bottle labelled as ‘B-qua’. The liquid inside looked like medi-gel. Any smart person would have kept the stuff in medi-gel packages.

“It’s not looking good for you, T’Fari. We got enough drugs here to send you to prison until you reach nearly the end of your matriarch stage,” Garrus drawled as he handed the bottle to Kaidan and closed the distance between him and the club owner. “But we could maybe let you have a sentence more fit for an Elcor? Just need your supplier.” T’Fari kept her head high in spite of being in handcuffs. Not a word left her lips. “Very well, you might want to talk at the academy. Kaidan?” Kaidan perked up at the sudden mention of his name. “I didn’t charge these cuffs, so I don’t think they will make it till we reach the academy. I have an extra pair in the skycar.”

Kaidan raised a brow, but all he said was “on it, boss” and then left the room to get the cuffs. From the second he stepped out of the door, there was an unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach, which was a great side dish for the migraine he was still supporting. With quick paces, he walked through the compound, passing by people coming off B-Qua, officers taking statements and cuffed staff members being hauled away. The screaming and cursing fed the pain just above his right ear. Once at the skycar, he dug around the glove compartment, where he left some meds. He swallowed one pill, no water or food to smooth the way of the huge pill travelling down his oesophagus. Kaidan let out a grunt as he looked through the car for the biotic dampener cuffs. When all the obvious places were empty, Kaidan paused. It took him just a second before he was sprinting across the compound, apologising profusely to all the officers, witnesses and suspects he ran into.

When Kaidan finally reached his destination, it was too late. T’Fari was lying face down on the floor, blood staining the ground below her head and bruises covering her face. The only solace he could find in the display was her body rising and falling with rapid breath. “What did you do?” He demanded from his partner on the other side of the room, in spite of knowing exactly what Garrus had done.

“She panicked, when I told her the sentence she could expect and fell over. Come on, we will find a treat in the basement.” Kaidan tried to get a word in, but Garrus pushed past him and raced towards the bar. He slid over the bar like a show-off. Kaidan simply walked through the opening made for staff members.  

“Garrus did you…? Why am I even asking, I know you did. What were you…? What am I saying, do you ever even think? Besides, we checked, there is not even a base...” Garrus pointedly ignored him as he led the way behind the bar, running his talons over the mirror-covered wall behind it. Kaidan spoke under his breath, trying to not make a scene, while simultaneously losing his mind. “I know you are a little loose with protocol, but beating up a suspect… are you…”

He stopped mid-sentence as Garrus held up his hand and pointed towards the wall. There was a seam between the mirrors that was suspiciously big. The mirrors on either side of the seam were much more damaged along the seam than any other part. Feeling the rage boiling in his nerves, Kaidan lightened up his biotics, before digging his hands between the mirrors and tearing the wall in a display or broken glass and bent metal. As the light surrounding him died down and the smell of ozone filled the air, he looked at the mess he made, then the stairs behind what once was a wall and then at his partner. The best he could describe the other man was gaping like a fish, but it wasn’t like he had never seen him use his biotics before. “Garrus, what the hell?”

It seemed to snap his partner right out of his trance, as he shook his head and turned to shine his torch for a better view of the stairs.  “Can we talk about this later?” Kaidan acquiesced, before they had an altercation that would make it to the higher ups. Well, the higher ups of C-sec could have him. Captain Comisius however…

With guns drawn and their flashlights illuminating their journey down the basement, they found it empty, save for a table with a medi-gel dispenser on top. Kaiden dropped his gun and torch, letting Garrus do the light as he scanned the dispenser with his omnitool. “It matches the serial number of the med-dispenser that went missing a few streets back, but I am reading some modifications.” There was a pause as Kaidan performed his scans. “The ultrasound module has abnormal activity. Usually it only sends short bursts into the storage compartment to keep the medi-gel in a liquid form, but this one sends a modified frequency consistently.”

The lights flickered on, before Garrus came to stand next to him. “So what? It’s broken,” he commented, before picking the device up, hauling it over his shoulder. “In any case, you got what you wanted, a win.”

Kaidan’s face contorted into a frown so deep that even Garrus could tell it was not good. “Let’s give this dispenser to the forensic unit and then we’re going to have a talk,” the human gritted out through his teeth in a way that got Garrus feeling a little on edge as he carried the medi-gel dispenser up the stairs. He wanted to hand it over to forensics, but none of the Salarians could carry the device. It offered the perfect opportunity for him to offer to bring it to their lab, leaving Kaidan for a while.

The little lone dog trip was also the best moment to reflect on his actions. However, Garrus was adamant. His methods got results. His story was an obvious lie, but C-sec hardly cared when it came down to results. Skirting protocol was normal and Kaidan was just a pain in his ass. With that new-found resolve, he entered his office a little while later, just to find Kaidan on the sofa with a datapad. The human was basically fuming, but it was too late to turn around now. The door shut behind Garrus and the datapad was thrown onto the coffee table with a force that put a crack into the screen.

“Is this how you treat your partner?” Kaidan yelled as he pointed to the datapad. Garrus picked it up, finding it to be a report from Dr Michel. “After everything I told you, you still defy captain’s orders and don’t even tell me about it? When did you even have time to tell every Elcor on the station to do a blood test?” To save time, Garrus scrolled to the end, the dreaded words blinking back at him from the screen. No conclusive results found.

“I did not break any rules for this, Kaidan. I just sent one email to 173 Elcors telling them to get their blood tested.” “The captain told you to drop it.” “People might be in danger, Kaidan.” “Yes! Us! And not to forget about beating up T’Fari…”

Garrus did not know what came over him. Kaidan was all up in his face and he did not appreciate it. He grabbed Kaidan by his collar, effectively putting a stop to the human’s speech, and raised him off his feet so their eyes could meet a little easier. “You know for your whole ‘good boy’ shtick, you care awfully little about people.”

Kaidan bared his teeth, the prickle of biotics dancing over his skin and Garrus’ plates. “Put me down. Now.” Garrus could feel the electric sensation caress even the plates underneath his armour. It should have been a hint, but he was not taking it.

“Naia could’ve been alive, but you just had to be a good pet to…” Garrus couldn’t finish his sentence. The air got knocked out of him as Kaidan sent him backwards into the drawers with a biotic kick. The drawers creaked under the force, but not enough force was applied to bend them. Garrus didn’t need to get his bearings, before pushing himself back on his feet and giving Kaidan a solid right hook to the face. “If all you’re good for is following rules, become an accountant!”

Kaidan stumbled back, tripping over the coffee table. He caught himself with his biotics and flipped himself on top of the couch. “What is the point of enforcing the law, if you’re not even following it yourself?” Kaidan yelled back, full on glowing now, his nose bleeding. He leaped, fully intending on smashing Garrus with his full power, but the more seasoned fighter saw it coming and dodged. The floor bent under the force, scorch marks leaving permanent evidence of Kaidan’s presence here. With Kaidan’s fists still planted in the ground, Garrus kicked him in the back, forcing Kaidan’s face to have a meeting with the freshly branded floor.

Garrus rested his foot between Kaidan’s shoulders, keeping him down and leering at him. He had barely moved his tongue to speak and Kaidan was already throwing his next attack. A strong biotic pulse came from his bruised body and threw Garrus into the air. He landed on top of his desk, breaking his terminal, before ending up on the other side of it. The force of the pulse flipped over the coffee table, toppled over the stacks of datapads and put a crack into the large windows offering a view of the central hall of C-sec Academy a few floors down.

Garrus rested against the cracked window, panting as he rested for a moment. When there was no Kaidan stomping his way, he attempted to stand up. With a grunt and the leverage of his fallen chair, he got back on his feet, a little hunched over and clutching his hurting lower back.

Kaidan was still on the floor on his knees, doubled over. Garrus watched as Kaidan tried to get up, but failed barely halfway due to a coughing fit. The Turian did not move, until the tell-tale smell of iron filled the air. He leaped over his ruined desk and tried to step between fallen datapads. When he came closer, he noticed the little pool of blood on the floor below Kaidan.

“Kaidan? Kaidan!” He forced the human’s upper body upright, accessing the damage. There was blood trickling down his partner’s temple and nose, but nothing as concerning as the red that covered Kaidan’s lips and hand. He had paled and seemed so tired he could pass out. Garrus put his arms underneath Kaidan’s and lifted him up despite the pain in his back - and multiple other places, if he was completely honest with himself. The couch was still upright and surprisingly empty. Garrus laid his partner down on it and started to rifle through his pockets, until he found what he was looking for. With his mouth plates, he opened the package, before forcefully opening Kaidan’s mouth. “Fucking idiot, using your biotics when you have not had lunch yet,” he grumbled as Kaidan stared at him deliriously, all the while absent-mindedly chewing on the nutrient bar.

Garrus continued to force-feed him, until there was nothing left of the nutrient bar. Kaidan was out cold right after. Garrus monitored his vitals as he rifled through the drawers for forgotten napkins from take-out meals. When they were found, he kneeled beside the couch and started dabbing the blood off Kaidan’s face.

It was nerve-wracking. Human flesh was so soft, seemed so vulnerable and sleeping like this, Kaidan looked nothing but innocent. In many ways, he was. It was easy to forget their earlier fight as Garrus ran the napkins across his temple and under his nose. If regular human flesh was soft, Garrus was not prepared to run the napkins over Kaidan’s lips. He paused after wiping one corner. It felt like his brain had its wires crossed for a second, but he didn’t dwell on it. Kaidan was looking mostly presentable by the time Garrus was done. He sat with his back against the couch, his omnitool linked to the computer in Kaidan’s standardised C-sec armour.

With the occasional glance at Kaidan's vitals, Garrus set to reading the datapad that started the fight. The cracked screen made it hard to read, but Dr. Michel had been as thorough as always. None of the compounds she had found before contacting him had been found in the Elcor that visited her clinic after Garrus’ massmail. There were traces of broken down nanides, but those were present in standard medi-gel nowadays.

The Turian sighed, hanging his head a little as he was faced with yet another dead end. One glance around the room made him wonder if his hunches were really worth all of this. Mandibles flared in annoyance, before he pushed himself to his feet. First things first, he needed some medi-gel himself.

[imaginesmai]

Peter Parker - No more fondue on my watch

This got a little out of hand... Hope you like it @peterwandaparker​​!

Plot: Peter and you have been together for a while now, but nothing can go past Captain America eagle’s eyes.

Warnings (or notes): SMUT or nearly smut, but there is a dick. And this is Peter Parker x Rogers!reader. Let’s be honest, there is a bit of Stony

You bit your lip, uncrossing your legs and doing it again just by pure nervousness. Or boredom, that worked too. There was a ray of sun that had moved since you had arrived the length of the table. If you fixed your eyes there for a long time, just like you had been doing, you could see it moving; and it was the most entertaining thing you had done since you had woken up. And you had woken up really, really early.

But that’s what you got when you lived in another district, you wanted to look presentable for him, and your father was Captain America, who could have a heart attack if you were late once more. Who wasn’t as punctual as your father was Tony, the engineer who still was in his lab for sure.

You weren’t uncomfortable in the tower, but you had places to be instead of the living room. Like, your boyfriend’s room.

“Hey dad” you tried.

Steve was wearing what you called ‘I’m gonna meet my crush’ attire. Tight grey shirt, black jeans and a fairly big amount of hair gel. He was reading a book of his list of ‘things I missed under ice’, which in your opinion was too long and boring. But he insisted in completing it, maybe just for the sake of Tony, who wrote it.

He raised a brow at you, his eyes not leaving the book but letting you know that he was aware. You coughed to make you sound as casual as possible, because sneaking out on Captain America wasn’t easy.

“How… much longer?”

“I don’t know” he gave you the same answer for the fifth time. “Whenever Tony finishes what he’s doing. It’s not like you have anything better to do, Y/N”

You bit your remark about your plans; any plan, actually, was better than waiting in the compound in silence since seven in the morning.

“But I’m hungry” you said, and Steve raised his head finally. You contained the proud smirk.

“Didn’t you have breakfast at your mother’s?”

Steve Rogers was a man of a diet. He didn’t have chocolate, sweets, fried stuff or anything that could be bad for health, and he forced anyone who lived with him to have 5 meals per day. The thing was that you were still a minor, and you didn’t always live with him.

Your mother and Steve didn’t have the perfect relationship, you could say. They were both wonderful people, but too stubborn to get along. So it pained you to lie about her, but that was the only way to get around your dad.

“Not really, since you woke me up at five” you almost barked, still hurt that he had blasted your phone away. “But mom wasn’t awake and there was no milk”

“I can’t believe that’s how she raise a child” Steve tightened his jaw. “What’s next? Telling me you had pizza for dinner?”

With extra cheese, actually

“No, dad” you lied again, salivating at the thought of pizza. “Can I eat something or should I starve to death?”

Steve was quiet for a while. He was against every type of snack; and if he ever pardoned one, was that tasteless rice pancake without fats, sugar or salt. It felt like eating cotton. He looked at the clock of his wrist, and sighed, going back to reading the book.

“Try not to raze Tony’s pantry, please” he gave up. “And don’t eat anything that has … just try to avoid eating Nutella from the jar”

You chuckled and hoped off the sofa, speeding to the kitchen. Closing the door behind you, you marvelled at the huge space in front of you. It was probably bigger than your father’s and mother’s apartment. Without wasting another beat, you walked to the fridge and enjoyed the opportunity of the free card of food.

The fridge was full of things that you couldn’t even name, but you were more than aware that that’s who Tony was. You contented yourself with a ham and turkey sandwich. Knowing you weren’t going to go back to your father, you made another one and reached for the bag of chips in the top counter.  

You were just putting everything in the tray along with two juices when your phone sounded.

Petey-pie [9:39]: i’m getting up early 4 u

Petey-pie [9:39]: hurt not to wake up by u smashing a pillow on my head

Petey-pie [9:39]: where are u

You sent a quick reply, telling him to stop being so needy and that you would be there in a minute. His room was on the other side of the compound, so you weren’t worried about running into your father; besides, luck seemed to smile at you, because you heard Tony’s voice from the living room greeting him.

And you knew that Tony was enough to keep your father busy for a few hours; after all, he didn’t put the ‘I’m gonna meet my crush’ attire for nothing.

You picked up the tray and tiptoed toward the other end of the kitchen, where the door for the main hallway was. You ran past your ‘room’, the one you used when Steve went on a mission with the Avengers and didn’t want you to stay alone, or with your mother. That he wasn’t living there anymore didn’t mean he wasn’t a part of the team, much to your mother dislike.

There weren’t many things there, but you quickly changed from your boots to soft padded socks with small cute bears decorating. Once you were comfortable enough to spend the whole morning there, you closed the door of your room and skipped to his.

Peter wasn’t facing you when you opened the door, but rather looking out of the window daydreaming. He turned around once you were in, and gave you the most beautiful smile you had ever seen. He still had his eyes swollen by sleep, and his pyjamas were on. But he seemed awake enough to pick up the tray from your hands and set it aside, cornering you in the bathroom’s door and locking your lips.

You smiled into the kiss and raised your hand behind his neck. Peter’s room smelt a lot like Axe, a bad habit in your opinion that he had gotten from his dad mentor. The window was half open and his bed was still undone, which gave you a sense of home that you hadn’t felt in a while.

Peter’s lips against yours weren’t nice, but demanding. He pressed himself against your body and cradled your head with his hand, tilting it so that he had better access. When you ran out of air, he teared away and looked at you with a lovestruck gaze.

“Hi” you managed to say, out of breath. It came out a little high-pitched.

“I missed you” he whined, and pouted like a puppy. Your heard literally broke with his look, so you leaned forward and kissed him again.

The spring break was hard for everyone. There was no highschool, and even if it was good news for every teenager, for you wasn’t. It meant you couldn’t see Peter every day, that you lived with your mother during the week, and that you could only sneak around your father some weekends. Peter was probably who felt it the worse, since he was a rather clingy boy, and had made it known in the three months you had been together.

Peter broke away to keep pressing kissing on your cheek, nose and forehead. They were light kisses, so fast that you ended up giggling and tossing between his arms. When he felt like he could let you go, he gave you a final peck and stepped back.

“Breakfast in bed” he said, giving a side glance to the trail of food. “Is it any special service?”

“Only for the best” you chuckled, and walked to the bed.

Peter’s bed was probably the softest one. When him and May had moved over, Tony had made sure he spoiled Peter rotten. With May’s help, they bought him the comfiest cushion, the nerdiest stuff and the best computer. He didn’t accept half of it, but the bed was different. You let yourself be drowned in it, pale blue sheets surrounding you and making you feel like in a cloud. You closed your eyes and rested your head on his pillow, that smelt like him and made it ten times better.

He followed you close, and you felt the bed dipping under his weight. Slowly, he crawled until his head was resting in the space between your neck and shoulder, and you could caress his hair. His body was covering yours, and when Peter threw the covers over the both if you, it felt like you were in your own perfect little world.

The tray laid forgotten on the desk as Peter curled into a ball by your side, hugging your body as if it was his personal pillow. He tangled your legs together and intertwined his fingers with yours. When he was comfortable enough, he talked, and his hot breath hit the side of your face.

“I missed you” he repeated.

“I missed you too” you answered, turning your head so that your noses were touching.

“You know what I missed the most?” Peter asked, and by the smirk on his face, you knew that shy-Peter wasn’t making an appearance. “This”

Peter’s hand rested on your bare belly, and from there he kept going down. He was met with the hem of your trousers, a baggy sweaters that you had snitched from your mom before leaving that morning. Peter’s skilled fingers started undoing the knot of the front, and his body rocked against yours slowly.

“I hope you know what you’re doing” you teased.

By any answer, Peter shifted so that he was hovering over you, his hand still placed between your bodies and his eyes boring into you with burning love. He gave you a lazy, lopsided smirk and finished with the knot of your trousers.

He didn’t bother in tugging them down, but sneaked his hand down and his thumb touched the lace of your panties. He didn’t have to look to know they were the purple one, because he knew your wardrobe by heart; and because with the spider bite, came a constant flood of teenager’s hormones.

Your skin was soft and warm against his finger’s pad, and he gifted you with a soft grunt that made you clench your thighs and trap his hand in between. Peter chuckled.

“I don’t think I can stand another two weeks without seeing you” Peter said.

“Let’s just enjoy the moment”

And that’s exactly what you did.

Peter kicked off the covers and let his lips be lost against your neck. They nipped, kissed, licked and bit your whole neck, never leaving any mark but testing your limits. He knew where to touch you to make those noise, and he spent his time there. His hot breath hoovering over you was enough to make you come on your panties.

But he didn’t have enough, so he ended up tugging your pants down and off the bed and letting his hand be lost in your pussy. He ran one lazy finger up and down your lips, parting them and creating a delicious friction against your clit.

“Peter – Peter, oh – wait – stop, Peter!” you cried out an pushed his hand away.

Peter’s eyes almost got out of their socket and you saw panic filling his features. He was off you in a second, and what a sight. His hair was messy from tugging too much, t-shirt gone and pyjamas pants holding a tent of its own. You bit your lip and squeezed your eyes, begging to yourself to last a big longer.

“Get inside” you moaned, opening your legs again. “Please – please, I need – I need –“

You hadn’t seen Peter move so fast in his life. He was standing in front of you when you blinked, fighting with his pants and boxers at the same time. His erection bobbed up and down until it almost touched his stomach, and you were sure he was as turned on as you.

You were about to take off your t-shirt and mount him yourself when the door was kicked open and both Peter and you screamed.

“Y/N!”

“Peter!”

“Dad!”

“Mr. Stark!”

You didn’t think the mood after not seeing your boyfriend for two weeks could go down so fast, but it did when a very flushed Tony Stark and a totally mortified Steve Rogers opened the door of Peter’s room. You covered yourself the best that you could with Peter’s sheets, and he took the pillow to hide his dick.

“What the hell were you doing?!” Steve screamed, and you had to remind yourself that it wasn’t a good moment to say ‘language’. “What – why are you – Y/N Rogers, you’re so grounded!”

Your father’s face was as red as his shield, only discerning from an apple by the blue and white of his eyes. Tony’s shock seemed to be wearing off, and he was simply leaning against a the wall with a hand covering his evident smile.

“Haven’t you heard of knocking, dad?” you asked, your voice still too high for your liking. “You can’t just burst into someone’s room”

“I can’t – I can’t?!” wrong answer, you guessed. “You can’t do… that! And with him!”

“Mr. Rogers, I – “ Peter tried to talk.

“Shut up” Steve growled, and Peter’s Adam apple bobbed up and down. “Listen to me, you end this right now. And don’t ever expect to see him again.”

“What?!” you let the sheets fall to your lap, exposing your thankfully still covered front. “You can’t do that!”

“You don’t get to say what I can and can’t do!”

“Steve –“ Tony tried.

“I can! You only see me on weekends, I live with mom! You can’t say who I can and I can’t see!”

“Then maybe you will come and live with me” Steve said, and your jaw dropped. “Get dressed. I’ll – “

“Just because mom and you don’t love each other anymore doesn’t mean I can’t love someone!” you screamed out.

The room got silent, and Steve actually paled. The thing about him was that he wasn’t a bad father at all. Your mother had thrown you at him when you were younger, and even if she loved you, you knew that most of the arguments came because she loved to make his life impossible. Steve was patient, loving, funny and cared for you like no one.

But he was also afraid. Afraid of you going to parties, afraid of you getting a sleepover, and afraid of you having a boyfriend. The man had lost so much, that it terrified him that he could lose you too.

For the first time since he had heard the noises in Peter’s room, he got to finally look at you. You had tears in your eyes, your cheeks red and your lips pursed as if when you were going to cry. He knew what a bratty teenager was, and what he saw in your eyes wasn’t the tantrum you throw sometimes when he didn’t let you go somewhere.

He looked at Peter, then. The boy looked even more devastated than you. With just a pillow covering his lower half, Peter was chewing on his lip and looking at Steve lacking all the respect he always had. There was only desperation, and Steve felt bad.

“It’s not about that” Steve whispered, and sighed. Even if he didn’t age like normal people, he felt like greys hair coming out. “How… for how long, you know? This?”

“Three months” you whispered back, and a tear rolled down your cheek. You quickly caught it with your finger, and rubbed a furious fist against your eye.

Steve slumped against the wall, and closed his eyes tightly. There was a headache coming his way, and at full speed. His daughter with Tony’s son protegee, his daughter doing… that with Peter, and his daughter growing up and him being left behind.

“Just – just be careful” Steve made a small grimace and coughed it away. “Say goodbye, we’re leaving. And please… next time lock the door, Parker”

You knew you had to talk about it with your father, that he wasn’t done, but for the moment, he muttered a quick goodbye and left the room. You felt like your heart was beating again. Tony had a smug smile on his face, and rose up from his leaning position too.

“And here I thought you didn’t bring girls home because you were a shy boy” Tony teased, and Peter felt like dying. “We’re talking about this later too, Pete”

With that, Tony left and the door was left ajar behind him. It was silent for a while, until Peter’s knees gave away and he sat beside you in the bed. The pillow fell to the ground and he put his elbows on his knees, covering his face with his hands. The decision of not saying anything was for the sake of your father, because you wanted to wait until he had everything figured with his feelings for Tony in case he felt obligated to stay away for you.

You raised a hand and placed it on Peter’s shoulder, and you swore he gave a small relief sob. Your suspicious were proven when he finally said something.

“I can’t believe that just happened” he whispered. “I thought I was gonna die”

“We’re not off the hook yet” you joked, and kneeling in bed, pressed a small kiss to his neck. “But for now we’re okay”

“Yeah”

Peter gripped your hand on his shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. He looked at you sideways, and attempted to smile. It was shaky and hesitant, but it was enough for you. Even if you hadn’t been dating for long, you had known the boy for your whole life, and you didn’t want to think what to do without him.

“I should get going” you muttered, and crawled out of bed. “I don’t want him any angrier”

Peter stood up too, and even if the mood had been killed and felt more like throwing himself off a window, he pressed his lips against yours one last time. Not a second after you had moved your hand to cradle his cheek, a barking voice came from the hallway.

“No more fondue when I’m around!”

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[squeeneyart]

Breathe in the Salt - Chapter 19

AO3

Beta reader is @thesnadger​!

Social interaction has its pros and cons.

Martin considers a way to pass the time.

Technically, there was no call that night.

Martin had had months to familiarize himself with the strange predawn that added a little color to the sky each morning. His home was on the western coast, so of course he didn’t see much of it until he’d made the trek uphill. With some cloud cover and dense fog, though, the light would scatter and cast a cold blanket of grey light over his corner of the world.

Early on he found it sort of nice, seeing the world ‘wake up’. He’d even started to get up earlier than necessary, just to make himself some tea and look out the window for signs of birds or other creatures who made their lives at dawn and dusk. There were some lines of poetry about it somewhere in his notebook, something about the magic of a quiet morning in solitude.

He’d lasted about a week with that. Turned out his life was already quiet and full enough of contemplative solitude, and warm blankets were much better than cold kitchen tile against his feet.

It was during this little sliver of morning when his mobile, vibrating against the wood of his bedside table, dragged him back to consciousness. 

“No…” he groaned, nuzzling into his pillow. It could only be one person. “Don’t make me come in early. Don’t make me come in early, you prick-” 

He reached over (god it was cold) and grabbed the offending object, keeping as much of himself under the blankets as possible and slipping the mobile back under with him. The screen was bright and painful in his cozy darkness. His eyes adjusted, and on his lockscreen the time read 4:06 a.m.

Before he could convince himself to let the damned thing ring itself out, he glanced at the caller ID. If anything it should’ve given him even more reason to let the call go, but Martin’s finger was already pressing the answer button. 

Attempting to whisper, his voice came out rough and croaky. “Jon?”

“Martin. Glad you’re still up,” Jon said in that distant way of someone paying attention to another task entirely. Keyboard clicks could be heard in the background. “How are you doing?”

Still up? Bleary and confused, Martin replied as if he’d just run into Jon at the store, “Fine, I guess? How are you?”

“I’ve successfully whittled down my assignments enough to have personal research opportunities.” There was a weary but nevertheless triumphant edge to his words. “If this is some sort of test of my abilities, I’d say I deserve a raise.”

“Impressive,” Martin yawned. “Does that mean anything for me, or…”

“No, not yet.” He could feel Jon deflate on the other end. “I’ve only just started looking, and Elias is still acting rather blasé about what we found. I hadn’t pegged him as the type to put business relations over the mission statement, but if that’s the case then-”

“Why send you out here?” 

“Precisely.” Jon clicked his tongue. “So I’m going to pry in that direction while digging through old reports. I assume the others will do the same once they’re caught up.”

Well, progress was as good as anything to wake up to. He reluctantly pulled the blankets from over his head and peeked out at his window. The frost was just visible at the edges, its frigid hands creeping across the glass. Perhaps a little while longer under the covers.

“Anyway, I’m glad I caught you,” Jon continued, filling the space Martin had left empty. The keyboard taps had ceased. “I’d decided to give you some breathing room, but you were quiet during the call with everyone and I thought- well, I wanted to make sure you were okay. As much as can be expected.” 

A small, halfhearted smile found its way onto Martin’s face. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

“So… are you okay? I know you said you were, but it sounded like you were being polite.”

Martin looked up at his ceiling. “I mean I was being polite, but… Yeah, I’m okay. As much as can be expected, like you said, but okay.” 

“Hm.”

“Hm?”

“What? Nothing, it’s good. I’m gl- I’m happy that you’re… doing okay.” Midway between this thought, Jon seemed to switch the mobile from one ear to the other. “If you aren’t, I just hope you know that you can tell me if something is going on. Sometimes there are emotional aspects that contribute to an event-”

As Jon spoke at length, Martin noticed a distinct tumbling feel in the way Jon spoke, like his thoughts were coming faster than his mouth could follow. Not alcohol, surely? No, a different idea had been bothering Martin since Jon had first called.

“-can’t speak for Tim or Sasha about hours, and if you’d rather just talk one-on-one, I’m sure-”

“Right, hours. Jon, I don’t mean to pry, but have you slept at all?”

The stream of consciousness halted in its tracks. “What?”

“You seem a bit… out of it? Have you checked the time recently?”

A moment passed. Then another. Then- “That can’t be right.”

Weakly, Martin replied, “Good morning to you, too.”

“I-” Jon began. He then made a small, irritated noise. “I woke you up.”

Martin ran a hand over his face and pressed it to his upturned mouth. Into it he mumbled, “You really need to sleep.”

As if the hours had finally come crashing down upon him, Jon’s voice dropped low and soft and properly tired. “I could’ve sworn it was earlier.” 

“I mean, in a sense-” 

“You know what I mean.” A yawn finally broke through, but he fought it back down. “I hope it wasn’t too much earlier than your normal wake-up time?”

“Nah. You’ve seen how early my day starts. Besides, my alarm isn’t the most pleasant thing to wake up to, and you could’ve been Peter calling me in early.” It was like getting up to enjoy the morning, but he was still in bed and someone else was there (sort of). As far as he was concerned, the pros outweighed the cons. 

“Then I’ll hold my apology for a later date, if you don’t mind.” He spoke bluntly, but possibly in a way that was meant to be funny. Martin was still working out when Jon was being blunt in a rude way or in a friendly way, and his gut pushed him toward the latter. “I also won’t apologize for my work ethic. I work better at night, without distractions or other people.”

Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Martin asked, “Okay, I can play along with that, but when do you sleep?”

“We have a cot.”

Martin scoffed. “What, at work?” An image of the three researchers finding different corners in some dark back room to snooze on company time was almost too much.

“Working after-hours is implied in the description of any academic job. If we didn’t steal some of the day back to sleep, we’d all have dropped dead by now.” For a moment his voice strained as if he was stretching, dipping into the background before returning to normal. “Though this past week has been a bit more extreme due to circumstances. I’m not always up until dawn, calling people in a stupor.”

“First time for everything?” Martin said helpfully, pushing down weakly against the rising guilt. “I know it’s a bad situation, but I’m sorry you all have to work so hard.”

“No need for that. I can choose to sacrifice a few nights for something important.” 

Slowly, very slowly, Martin pressed his burning face into his pillow. Maybe it was too early for him after all, to handle anything approaching concern. The heat was surely enough to melt the ice right off the window. Ignoring the ridiculous reaction happening in his cheeks, he turned his face back upwards and mumbled, “Thanks.”

There was a small rustling of papers. With the same damned softness, Jon continued, “I’m sure Tim and Sasha would say the same.”

A quiet thing clung deep in Martin’s throat, and in his nose, and he imagined a version of himself from the night before, scared and powerless and ready to dump any and all his feelings on the first person who would speak with him. Would that have been something Jon was prepared for, if he’d called at a sensible hour? Or if Martin had called first? But it was nearly morning, and he was well rested, and eventually the thought fell away in his wakefulness. 

Without a response to go on, Jon said, "I’m not going to be as… outwardly optimistic as before, but…”

“You’re making progress,” Martin finished, coughing lightly. “I know. I’ll be patient, and careful. It’s hard after the weird stuff we did last week, though.”

“I’d like to say it was all due to extreme circumstances, but we are just like this.” 

“There go my hopes of you all getting proper rest when this is over.”

“S’not impossible, but terribly unlikely.”

Martin sighed, checking his screen clock again. Still some time left. “Is it safe to assume you won’t be sleeping at this point?” 

“Won’t be long until I can go to the archives. I’ll wait until then and avoid being groggy on public transit.” A pause. “Also my last energy drink is still working.”

“Mm.” Letting his forearm fall across his eyes, Martin gave up that particular battle. “Anything new set off your ‘fake’ alarms recently?”

“You’re in luck. Just yesterday a man came in to tell me about his experience with ‘spy birds’ that even you can’t devil’s-advocate your way through.”

“I’ll be the judge.”

It was a tough sell, even for Martin whose own situation made a lot of things seem possible. Midway through he even began to resent the person for wasting time better spent solving Martin’s problems, but that was an emotional rabbit hole for another time. By the end he had to concede that it was more of a conspiracy than a supernatural encounter, if they were going to get into the semantics of it. Still, Jon made it easy to be contrarian.

“When we’re not busy with all this,” Jon said, accepting that Martin wasn’t yet ready to forgo the benefit of the doubt, “I’ll be happy to sit outside and film birds all day for the sake of science, but the man finds perfectly normal birds unsettling.”

With a silly kind of bullheadedness, Martin replied, “Plenty of seabirds around here. Maybe that’s what I’ll do while I wait for something to happen.”

Jon snorted. “I expect a full report by Monday.”

Before Martin could respond, his phone made an all too familiar and dreadful noise. He really should’ve picked a song or something, he thought as he dismissed his alarm. “Well, it’s that time.”

“Yes, I should be getting along with my morning as well. Good luck with your birdwatching,” he said with joking scorn.

“Have fun sleeping on the bus.”

“Ha ha. Goodbye, Martin.”

“Bye.” 

Dropping his arm onto the bed, mobile in hand, Martin ignored the numbness in his fingers and considered how invested he was in writing a fake report about birds just to see the reaction it would get. Maybe he would text Tim about it.

The idea sat in the back of his mind as he got dressed, as he made breakfast, as he put on his shoes and coat and hat. When he opened the door to meet the cold that had settled in overnight, he couldn’t help but wince at the extra bit of sting the wind delivered, but he clung to his fanciful little idea all the way up the hills and through town. 

Creative writing had never been his strong suit. It was debatable if poetry was, but he’d reached a point where it was more of a comforting activity than a skill. Still, as he got to work in the blessedly empty lighthouse, he thought of the little notebook he’d stashed into his bag. If it all came to nothing, he could end up with scraps of text to rearrange into poetry someday.

It was a mess of a book. Technically bound, it was still cheap with some pages starting to come loose from his handling. He’d long ago given up on the idea of a nice looking notebook, especially as it had become personal enough to count as horribly embarrassing. It was inevitable for any poetry notebook of his to become more akin to a scattered, flowery journal of sorts, and this one was no different. 

It was also a step up from previous ones in that it wasn’t some spiral-bound school notebook he’d found in the discount section of the general store. No, he had found it in a bookstore discount section. The stiff cover even had sort of a nice texture before he’d beaten it up by shoving it into a drawer a million times.

The day crawled by with no interruptions, leaving Martin on edge. Peter hadn’t come by once. Perhaps he’d assumed Martin had had any boldness scared out of him, an aggravating thought. He had the will to act. He also had some amount of self preservation left in him, that was all.

By lunchtime he was itching to talk to anyone, but texting the others was off limits and it was so dreary outside that going out to eat was a non-starter. He supposed he could stop by the grocery store. He knew some of the people from when he’d worked there. Most of the ones he’d worked with had also left, but maybe…

No, that was a stupid idea. He wasn’t seeing anyone unless they came to him.

No one did.

So in his time off the clock, he stared at his little notebook and hoped his brain would think of anything to say.

--

The weather had taken a more miserable turn by the time he’d left work in the evening. He only saw a few birds struggling in the gales, none of them particularly watchful. If he had to guess, they didn’t care much about what anyone was doing. Not great material for a report, but maybe for a poem when the feeling hit.

The streets were largely empty as people avoided the high winds and mist that sprayed against Martin’s glasses, making it a challenge to see anything around him. He had half a mind to just stow them away, but there was going to be water in his eyes no matter what he chose to do. Just another little thing to make his day worse that he couldn’t change.

Part of him considered that the weather often matched his mood, but it wasn’t hard for bad weather to pair with sour thoughts. Nearly all weather was bad and nearly all moods were sour. Correlation, etcetera.

As much as he’d wanted to check his phone as soon as work was over, the others could wait until he’d stopped feeling so damned sorry for himself.

And he did feel awful, though there was no inciting incident. It had been a long, tedious day where the words wouldn’t flow, the world was grey, and any residual happiness from his conversation with Jon had been slowly eaten away by the loneliness of the present. Why was it so hard to hold onto those good things? A good start was supposed to make the day better, not make the rest of the day look worse.

It had to be everything at the lighthouse. He’d always been moody as a person, but the stress had to be getting to him. His head shouldn’t have been hurting from holding back tears when nothing had happened.

God, the squinting wasn’t helping, either. He knew where he was going, of course, but the streetlights were barely helping. The sky had decided to paint itself over everything, a dark, grey blob of water and concrete and fog. The walk down the hill was going to be a slippery pain, even in his grippy boots.

Had he passed by the florist? He probably should have by now, but the main road hadn’t ended yet.

And even when he got home, oh joy, it would be to sit at a table and eat with his mother, and based on her tastes she would love to stand outside in the misery of it all even though it would be terrible for her health. What was the point of trying when another person wouldn’t even listen-

He’d been walking for too long. 

The road continued on, no longer heading into the surrounding trees but stretching itself past the point of impossibility. And at the end, in a place where it should not have been visible through the colorless mist, was a large, familiar house.

Ah, Martin thought. Someone had decided to talk to him today.

Looking behind him, the lighthouse was just barely visible. Looking to either side was a fool’s errand, as everything had been consumed by the grey.

He slipped the mobile phone out of his pocket and bent over to shield it from the rain. The screen lit up at his touch, but as expected any and all communication was blocked. Nevertheless, he opened the group chat and began to type.

Martin: i think simon wants to talk. everything is fog and i cant go anywhere else. hoping my phone makes it out so this makes it 

He pressed send, then mustered up whatever hope he had and added:

Martin: talk to you soon

[padme-parker]

Keep On Loving You [AU!Anakin Skywalker x Reader]

Summary: After breaking up with Anakin nearly 5 years ago, you see him again.

Word Count: 6.1k+

Warnings: um angst, mentions of pregnancy and abortion, Anakin is an asshole in this one, fluff if you squint

A/N: This is a song fic, so listen to the cover of “Keep On Loving You” by Cigarettes After Sex while reading this! 

Also, I was never gonna post this but I wanna supply ya’ll with content while I try (and horribly fail) to write ch 3 of Collide. Fun Fact: This was actually THE first fic I ever wrote and completed (so don’t have high expectations lmaooo)

Walking into the grocery store, you noticed it was more crowded than usual. It was odd, you thought, no one ever really comes to your local grocer. You brushed it off, continuing your shopping. Although you shopped here often, the workers rarely changed where the items were located. You had already familiarized yourself with the baking aisle, so imagine your surprise when you realized the flour was now on the top shelf. You tried to grab it by hopping, but that didn’t work out. As you started to climb the shelves, a hand reached out and grabbed it for you.

“Thank you!” You replied cheerfully. You hadn’t even had the chance to turn around before you heard a quiet, “No problem.” Your body had tensed up. You could recognize that voice anywhere, it didn’t matter that five years had already gone by.

“Ani?” You turned slowly, hoping your ears weren’t deceiving you.

“Y/N?” The warmth had left your face, you tried to blink back the tears. The air had left your body, suddenly you couldn’t remember how to breathe. “Hey, Anakin.” You said with a faint smile

“My god! It is you Y/N. How are you?” You were surprised he had even remembered you.

“I’m good, just buying some stuff for myself.” you replied.

“Flour? I don’t recall you being into baking when we were together..”

“Oh, yeah. It’s something I..uh.. Picked up on after you left. I was just actually getting some ingredients for some cookies. What about you, how are you doing?” You told him, you couldn’t bear to look him in the eyes, so you chose to admire the floor instead.

“I’m doing pretty good, I would go into full details but I don’t want to disturb you.” He said, “Actually, how about we go grab a cup of coffee?” After he said that, you lifted your head to look at him. He must’ve thought the face you made was funny because the corner of his lips started to quirk up.

“Yeah, okay. Let me just pay for this and we can go. Same place?” Anakin simply nodded his head, and with that you were off.

-

You let out a loud laugh, amused by one of Anakin’s stories. It felt like everything was right. As if the two of you never broke up, just like the old times. You wrapped your hands around the warm drink, trying to warm up your hands.

“So why are you back in New York, Anakin? I thought you were in Los Angeles for your acting career.” You paused, unsure what to say next.. “Congrats by the way, I know how much it means to you.” Although it hurt to say it, you were truly proud of his accomplishments. You turned to look at him and for the first time, you admired his appearance. His hair had gotten longer and his eyes were brighter now.

“About that, I’m here for my wedding!” For the second time today, the air left your body. You felt as though the world around you was now crumbling to pieces. It might’ve been five years, but you could never be able to stop loving Anakin.

“W-wow, really? Who’s the lucky lady?” You asked, you tried to keep your emotions in check. Now was not the time to cry.

“Her name is Padme, she’s an actress, just like me. It’s funny, we were both working on the same movie, our characters were in love with each other but I could’ve sworn she hated me. Well one thing led to another and now we’re going to get married.” A grin made its way onto Anakin’s face, “What about you Y/N, find anyone special?”

You hesitated before speaking, “No not really, I’ve been busy with work, taking care of my dogs and-” The shrill tone of Anakin’s phone cut you off, “Hold on, Padme’s calling..” He then proceeded to answer, giving you a sheepish look. You could faintly hear her on the phone, she had been panicking which caused Anakin to swiftly tidy up, “Okay, okay Padme, calm down, I’ll be there soon.” He gave you an apologetic look before getting up. “Do you.. Um… perhaps wanna go? To the wedding?” He asked you.

“Me? Ani, you want me to go?” You were curious, the two of you hadn’t spoken for almost five years, why in the world would Anakin want you there?

“Of course I do Y/N/N, how could I not?” You swallowed the lump in your throat before nodding. In return, a bright smile was given. “Great, I’ll send an invitation to your address” you quickly corrected him, “Actually, Anakin, I don’t live there anymore.” He let out a quick oh in response. Getting out a pen from your purse, you wrote down your address on a napkin before handing it to him.

He took a brief glance at it before shoving it in his pocket, “See you tonight?” You were caught off guard, “W-what?” you asked.

“To give you the invitation I mean.” He replied

You let out the breath you were holding, “Oh yeah, I guess I’ll see you tonight.” He gave you a swift nod accompanied by a smirk, and then he was gone.

-

By the time night came, you had completely forgotten that Anakin was going to stop by, too engrossed with the cookies you were baking. You were just about to take out the cookies when the bell rang. With a curse, you threw down the rag and ran to the door. Hastily opening the door, you were greeted by Anakin.

“Hey, thanks for coming by. It really means a lot to me, Anakin” You told him

“It really is no big deal y/n, and it would mean a lot to me if you came to my wedding.” Anakin then pulled an invitation out, “The wedding is on Saturday, the ceremony starts at 3pm.” Given that it was Tuesday, you had three days to find a suitable outfit. Or just rummage through your closet and find whatever was good enough.

“Look, I would invite you in Anakin, but I’m currently busy. Sorry” Your eyebrows were raised and gave him a shrug, “Gotta go, my cookies are gonna burn!” You shut the door on him before he could respond. You pressed your back against the door and took a deep breath to compose yourself before going back to your cookies. Seeing that your cookies were about to be burned, you quickly took them out.

“Who was at the door?” Asked your roommate

“HOLY SHIT! What the hell, Steve. Are you a ninja now?” You whisper screamed, taking a quick glance at him only to realize he was nearly naked, “And why in the world are you almost naked Steve?”

“It doesn’t matter. Oooh, are those cookies?” Before you could reply he grabbed one and shoved the hot cookie in his mouth. “So are you gonna tell me who that was?”

“No one, just a-- it was nobody.” you say, trying to sound convincing. Steve then gave you a pointed look, indicating that he would wait all night for the truth if he had to. Giving in, you told him who he was. “That was..he’s..” your eyes begin to tear up, “Anakin, it was him. He was just inviting me to his wedding.” It seems like all you did now was cry. You didn’t understand why you were crying, it’s been five years. You should be over him by now.

“Anakin, as in Anakin Skywalker the-” you cut him off, “Yes, that’s him.” The tears were coming out of you like a river now. He let out a soft sigh before taking you in his embrace, he knew what had happened between you and Anakin.

You had been waiting all night for Anakin to come home. You knew that he was close to landing a lead role, so you had wanted to prepare a nice dinner for his efforts along with sharing some good news of your own. Just as you pulled the chicken out of the oven, the front door opened. Anakin set down his stuff with a sigh, coming up behind you to wrap his arms around you.

For a moment, you let yourself get lost in his embrace. You enjoyed the warmth he emitted, snuggling closer to him. Anakin was the first person you had ever truly loved. No one could ever compare to him.

“So, how’d it go Ani?” Expecting another rejection, you turned to cup his face. However you were proved wrong when a smile lit up the room. “I got it baby! I did it!” He screamed, lifting you up and placing kisses on your face. You screamed along with him, you were happy that he was finally being recognized for his talent.

“Anakin, that’s amazing!” You were jumping with joy, “I made roast chicken, let's discuss over dinner.” You began to plate the chicken along with the honey roasted carrots and potatoes. Anakin set up the plates and cutlery, getting two wine glasses and your favorite bottle of wine. Once you saw that he finished setting up, you put the chicken and sides down on the table. Taking out a knife, you cut out a piece of breast meat for him. You were quite excited for this meal, you tried a new recipe, resulting in the chicken looking juicy and flavorful. You then served yourself before sitting down. Anakin reached for the bottle of wine, pouring himself a glass first before reaching over to grab yours.

“Actually, Ani, I think I’ll stick with water tonight.” He gave you a questioning look, “I’m quite parched, and although I’d love a glass right now, water seems like the only thing that can quench my thirst. Thank you though.” He got up to get you a glass of water before returning to his seat.

“So, tell me about it Ani.” You started the conversation

“Well y/n/n, everything about it was great. After auditioning I was sure I wasn’t going to get a call back, but they did baby! They called me and wanted to discuss the role with me.” He continued, “We have to start filming soon but..” He paused

“But what, Ani?” you implored

“I’m going to be gone for a long time y/n, in Los Angeles…” that surprised you, he was supposed to be gone in LA while you were in NYC, “How long Anakin?” you asked, afraid of his answer.

“Almost a year, my flight leaves tomorrow at 4:35pm” you froze, how were you supposed… what if… you couldn’t think, so many thoughts and questions were running through your mind.

“Ani, you’re going to spend a whole year in Los Angeles..away from me.”

“Y/n, it doesn’t have to be that way.” He reassured you, “You can come with me, we can still be together.” He must have been joking, there was no way you were going to leave. “Anakin, you know I can’t! Everything that I’ve built for my career is here!”

“If you come with me, we can rebuild our future together. Nothing will stop us, we won’t have anything to worry about. Imagine it, you and I, walking down the red carpet together. Hand in hand.” You were appalled, was that all he really cared about? The fame and fortune?

“You can’t be serious right now, Anakin! Is that all you care about? The money and fame that comes with being an actor? We both know that the world doesn’t give two shits about people like us!” You screamed, your chest was heaving now.

“People like us? What do you even mean by that? Are you insinuating that I’ll never be successful?” By now his eyes were wide open, gone was the supposed celebratory night.

“No- Anakin you’re putting words into my mouth, I-” “THEN WHAT Y/N? WHAT COULD YOU POSSIBLY MEAN?” You took a deep breath before opening your mouth, “Ani, all I’m saying is that the people don’t care about nobodies, and they never will.”

“But that’s the thing y/n, everyone starts as a nobody, yet the only person who can change that is yourself. I’m sorry but I can’t be with someone who doesn’t believe in me.” His eyes glistened with tears, he sniffled quietly, “I’ll come back for my stuff tomorrow before I leave, but I can’t stay here tonight.” The awkward squeaking of his chair broke you out of your trance, you watched as he put on his jacket and collected his keys. Just as he was walking out the door he paused, “You know y/n, I would’ve gone anywhere in the world for you. I just wished you’d done the same for me.” He said before softly closing the door.

You got up from your seat and walked towards your bedroom. Sitting down on the bed, you let out a defeated sigh. You scanned the room, only now noticing how much of it was filled with Anakin’s things. His scent still lingered in the air. You didn’t realise you were crying until you felt a tear drop onto your hands. You wiped away the tears before reaching under your side of the bed and taking out a box. Gently grasping the picture, you took it out of the box before starting to cry again, “It was supposed to be us together, forever.”

“So what’re going to do y/n? Are you actually going to his wedding?” Steve questioned you. In response you gave him a shrug. You knew it was wrong of you to go, but Anakin had personally invited you himself. Even though the two of you hadn’t talked to each other for half of a decade, he was still someone you cared about. Hell, you and Anakin grew up together as best friends, you had to be there for him. It was the least you could do. “Yeah, I’m going, Steve.”

-

The day of the wedding, you woke up nervous. Who wouldn't be, the ex you’re still madly and deeply in love with was going to get married to someone that wasn’t you. You called out for Steve but got no reply. You let out a sigh before getting up to get your phone to text him.

You: Hey, wya?

Steve: Good Morning y/n, I’m currently out. I won’t be home until later today, sorry bug :((

You: What! I was relying on you to watch my kids

Steve: I know, I know, sowwy. Maybe you can text the babysitter?

You left Steve on read to quickly text your babysitter.

You: JAR JAR!

JJ: Yo, wassup. What can I do for you today? 

You: Can you take care of my precious children today? Pretty please!!!

JJ: Of course I can, I’d love to.

You: Great thanks JJ! Please be here before 2:05pm :)

You were grateful that you had Jar Jar on days like this, while you hadn’t spent much time with him, you trusted him enough with your kids. Hopping into the shower, you washed your hair and body, letting the warm water and steam unwind you a little. By the time you were done showering it had been 11:35am, leaving a couple hours to get ready and maybe have a little snack.

Walking over to your closet, you pulled out a satin champagne dress. It had a low cut, showing a little cleavage. The fabric on the left side of your hip wrapped around your body, coming back up to where it started, giving you a slight slit. Then you moved onto makeup, deciding on going for a simple look. After applying your foundation, concealer, and contour, you moved onto the upper half of your face. You carefully filled in your brows, making sure each swipe was precise. Taking a spoolie, you blended the brow product ensuring that your brows weren’t so harsh looking. Next, you took your favorite mascara and applied it to your lashes. While there was some volume, you decided to put on some eyelashes so your eyes didn’t look so naked compared to the rest of your face. You moved onto blush and highlight, deciding on whatever complimented your skin. For the finishing touch, you chose a mauve-nude lipstick along with a glittery lipgloss. As for hair, you slicked it back, putting it into a nice tight low bun. By the time you were finished, the clock was at 1:25pm. It took you nearly two hours to get ready, but you still had time to accessorize and grab a snack.

You grabbed the first gold necklace you could find and put it on, along with a pair of dangly earrings. The house was quiet, so you assumed that the dogs were still asleep or taking a nap. Creeping into the kitchen, you settled on having a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with a cup of yogurt for breakfast. Something quick and easy, it would keep you sustained until the eating portion of the wedding. If you had to be real, that was the one thing you were looking forward to. I mean who doesn’t love free food? After cleaning up, you went back to your room taking a quick second to check up on the sleeping beast on your bed. Seeing as it was still asleep, you went to the closet and pulled out a jacket along with strappy gold heels. It was nearing 2pm so you picked up your purse and made sure you had everything you needed. Makeup? Check. Phone? Check. Keys? Check. Invitation? Check. You walked into the bathroom and checked yourself out one last time. As you were heading towards the door, the doorbell rang, signaling Jar Jar’s arrival. You went to open it and invited him in.

“Alright Jar Jar, I’ve gotta run. You know where the food is if they get hungry, they’ve been napping for a while now so they might wake up soon, you know the drill.” You told him

“Yeah, yeah. I’ve got this under control. I’ve done this like a hundred times, duh.” He announced, you smiled at him. He never failed to lift your mood with his sarcastic and goofy attitude. You gave him one last nod before grabbing your keys out of your purse to lock the door.

Hopping into your car, you typed the address into your phone and started the journey to the venue. It took about 25 minutes to get there, you arrived at 2:30, giving you some time to find parking and a seat at the ceremony. The event was pretty big, given that both Anakin and Padme were famous, there had been many guests. You chose a seat in the middle of all the chairs, not too close yet not too far. You looked around, trying to spot anyone you knew but you couldn’t find anyone. Just as you were about to go on your phone to pass the time you felt someone sit awfully close to you. You looked up realizing who it was.

“Anakin!” You were surprised, shouldn’t he be up at the front? “Why’re sitting next to me? Aren’t you supposed to be at the front?” You took a glance at him, noticing how well his tux fit him.

“Well yeah, but I’m nervous y/n/n..” he replied. “What, why? Isn’t this supposed to be the happiest day of your life..?” you asked, you were starting to have second thoughts, maybe you shouldn’t have come after all. “I guess… listen I gotta go now, but you’ll be at the reception yeah?” you nodded, then he got up and walked away.

Before you knew it, music was starting to play but no one walked in yet, signalling that they were going to begin shortly. You took the time to admire the venue, there was a light lace fabric spanning from wall to wall, acting as a backdrop. The venue itself was a beautiful, dark brick building. Strewn around the room were fairy lights, making the atmosphere warmer. At the ends of every row were lanterns, containing light pink rocks and a burning candle. Across the aisle laid a white runway, each side having flower petals scattered, but left a clear path for the bridal party to walk down.

The doors swiftly opened and the music changed pace, one by one the bridal party began to walk down the aisle until the only person left was the bride. Each bridesmaid wore a different style of dress that complimented their style, but the color remained the same. Noticing that everyone was standing up, you stood up too, straightening out your dress. The orchestra played Canon in D, a wedding classic. Turning to Padme, you first took in her beauty. Her hair was curled to perfection, tied back only leaving a few hairs to frame her face. Her features were soft and angelic looking, you really couldn’t tell if she was wearing makeup or not. Your eyes drifted to her dress, it was truly magnificent. It was white with ivory detailing, her flowy sleeves made of lace. It was as if she was an angel sent from the heavens. You continued to admire her, then your eyes fell to her swollen belly, one hand clasped over it while the other was holding her bouquet. You were shocked to the core, Anakin really didn’t love you anymore, did he? Of course, you weren’t a silly girl, you knew that he was going to move on from you, but you hadn’t expected this.

Just as Padme took Anakin’s hand, you flopped down into your chair. The remainder of the guests sat down too, commencing the ceremony.

“Friends and family, we are joined here today to celebrate the wedding of Padmé Amidala and Anakin Skywalker.” Hold on, wait a second. Was that Obi Wan? Your whole body perked up, looking for the strawberry blonde. You were surprised that they chose Obi Wan to be their officiant. Given the fact that they’re both famous, you’d assume they’d have an actual priest at their wedding. To ya’know, keep up their reputation and appeal to their audience. 

You should've seen by the look in my eyes, that there was something missing.

“Marriage is a pathway to a promise between two beings. That they will always love and trust each other. Creating a bond that can never be broken. So I’ll ask this now before we continue. If anyone objects to this union, speak now or forever hold your peace.” For a minute, the world around you stopped. All you could see was him, your Anakin. His eyes met your gaze, as if it was a silent plea.

Tearing your eyes away from him, you sunk into your seat. Oh gods, why did you just have to go to the store while Anakin was in town. All of this could’ve been avoided if you had just gone shopping on Monday, but who the hell goes grocery shopping on a Monday?

“Alright, now that we have that out of the way, let's allow the bride and groom to share a few words.” Obi Wan handed the microphone to Anakin.

You should've known by the tone of my voice, but you didn't listen.

“You know Padme, never in a million years did I think I’d be getting married.” ouch, “Let alone to the girl of my dreams.” wow, it seems like Anakin was trying to make you more miserable than you already were. “So it’s so amazing that I’m standing here today, with you. Within the five years I’ve known you, three of them consisting of us being together, I’ve come to know what type of person you are. Padme is selfless, loving, and strong-willed. After our first movie together, I just knew that I had to have her. Every time I’d ask you out on a date, you’d laugh and say ‘Ask me tomorrow, Anakin’” cue the laughing, “so that’s what I did. Finally when you said yes, I felt like I was going to explode with excitement. After our first date, I just knew that I would love you forever, Padme.”

‘Cause it was us baby way before them.

The sun was softly shining through your curtains, you felt a hand brushing through your hair. Letting out a soft groan, the hand stopped, “Oh, please don’t stop on my account, Ani.” You looked up at him, a smile forming on his lips, “Good morning, angel.” You gave him a quick peck before saying good morning back, getting up to get ready for the day.

“So what’s the plan for today, Anakin?” You asked from the bathroom, picking up your toothbrush you applied tooth paste then proceeded to brush your teeth. Anakin’s arms suddenly wrapped around your torso, his chin resting on your head. “How about you go treat yourself, go shopping, maybe hang out with some friends, and when you come home, I’ll have dinner ready. How does that sound?” You pondered for a minute before nodding your head.

By the time you had arrived home, it was already 6:50pm. Unlocking the door, a delicious smell wafted from the kitchen. First you took off your shoes, leaving them by the door. Next came your jacket, hanging it on the coat rack. You snuck up behind Anakin, wrapping your arms around his neck. You could say sneaky snuggles were a daily thing in your relationship. “Whatcha cookin good lookin?” Anakin let out a snort, “Only the best for my girlfriend. How about you go sit down while I bring the food to the table.” You turned to the table, noticing everything was already set up. You took your seat just as Anakin laid down the meal. Chicken parmesan with homemade lasagna.

“Oh Ani, my favorite! You didn’t have to, what’s the occasion?” You squealed

“No reason, like I said, only the best for my girl.” He smiled, lifting up his wine glass, you mirrored his actions, “I’d like to make a toast dedicated to you, my lovely, beautiful, amazing girlfriend. I love you, forever.” 

And I meant every word I said, when I said that I love you, I meant that I love you forever.

You were full on blushing now, “I love you too, Ani. A toast, to forever.” The two of you joined glasses, a clink echoed in the near quiet apartment.

You were awoken from your flashback by loud applause, did you just daydream during the remainder of the wedding? You turned to the old lady next to you, “Is it over?” She turned to look at you, appalled by your appearance but nodded nonetheless. “Oh am I crying,” awkward laugh, “I always cry at weddings..” You turned to look away and instead focused on the bride and groom newly wedded husband and wife making their way down the aisle. Both adorning smiles on their faces.

The guests were ushered outside near an open bar area. You were encouraged to take pictures but chose to watch the workers as they changed the venue from ceremony mode to reception mode. You noticed they kept most of the decorations, only adding circular tables and necessities. The lanterns now became centerpieces while the flowers scattered down the aisle were now randomly placed across the room. There was a long, rectangular table arranged in front of the white backdrop. Obviously for Padme and Anakin, along with their bridal party and family. You looked around quickly before leaving to go to the bathroom. Once there you took a deep breath and looked at yourself in the mirror. A gasp left your mouth, your looks were beyond atrocious. You closed your mouth before you could catch any flies and touched up your makeup.

Walking out of the bathroom you had nearly made it to the bar before you stumbled into somebody, “Hello there.” Seems like you couldn’t run away from your past, “Hello, Obi Wan. How are you?” After asking him, the two of you had spent the next fifteen minutes catching up on eachothers lives. Finally, the staff had announced that the tables were ready. Obi Wan promptly excused himself, now by yourself you went to go find your seat. To make your life easier, you went to the table where they had a list of names and where you could find your seat. You were sat at table three, pretty close to the front for someone who R.S.V.P.ed at the last second.

When you got to your table, you noticed there were already some people seated, none that you knew though. Sitting down, you began to mingle with your peers. Making small talk until the buffet was ready.

It took a while, but dinner was finally ready to start. You’d waited all day for this moment and you couldn’t wait. Once your table was dismissed, you got in line with a plate in your hand. The first thing you noticed was the variety, which was a good thing for you because you could eat to your heart's content. After making yourself a plate, you went back to your table to eat. You shoveled the delicious food into your mouth, hoping to get a second plate but you were interrupted by the clinking of glass. Toast time you thought to yourself, a frown upon your face. Darn, you were really keen on getting that second plate.

You zoned out during the toasts and eventually their first dance, all you could think about was getting out of this damn dress. You couldn’t wait to go home and take a hot shower while crying your eyes out. Coming back to the real world, you noted how everyone was standing up, crowding around Padme and Anakin as a cake was placed in front of them. Great, I really need to stop zoning out.

“Okay, before we continue with the cake cutting, I’d just like to say that not only is this cake to celebrate our marriage, but it’s also our gender reveal cake!” fuck, Fuck, FUCK..you really shouldn’t have come. God you’re so stupid, I mean why the fuck would would anyone think going to your exs wedding is a good idea. The room fell silent, anticipating the color of the cake. Gasps were let out when the piece of cake was shown. Pink and blue? Are they having- “Twins! We’re having twins!” Anakin shouted. You couldn’t breathe, you needed fresh air. You hurriedly stepped outside, choosing to sit down on a bench to try and collect your breath.

You must’ve been outside for a while because before you knew it, Anakin was sitting next to you. “What’re doing out here, Anakin? Shouldn’t you be inside dancing with your wife?” You asked.

“I wish..” Anakin scoffed, his eyebrows were furrowed deep in thought. “What do you mean? This is supposed to be the happiest day of your life. You just married the woman you love for crying out loud!” You protested.

Anakin let out a sigh, “Yeah, that’s just the thing. Padme was never supposed to get pregnant. We were never supposed to get married. The only reason why I proposed was because our agencies thought it would be good for our reputation.” This was some shocking news, you thought they truly loved each other. Well Anakin at least, you couldn’t speak for Padme.

“You know, the day after we broke up when I came to collect my belongings, I waited for you. I knew you were gone, waiting for me to finally leave. But I waited for you. For as long as I could.” You had no idea why Anakin was telling you this. Why would he bring something like this up… unless… no, it wasn’t possible.

When Anakin entered his your apartment, the first thing he noticed was how quiet it was. Sure, it was still morning, but you weren’t someone to sleep past 10 am. You had always enjoyed getting up early. It was before noon, so Anakin had just assumed you were out for brunch. He began to collect some of his belongings, only taking what was necessary. He didn’t want to take any of the pictures, just in case you missed him enough and wanted to longingly stare at them. So instead he took out his phone and took a photo of every picture he liked. The good, the bad, and the ugly; Anakin wanted to remember all of it. Entering your room, Anakin was quick to take what he needed. He almost left before he remembered the most important thing to him, his mother's ring. Anakin knew he couldn’t leave without so he went to find it. He searched high and low until he came across a box under the bed. Although the two of you were together, he never went through your things without permission. But Anakin was desperate, so he opened the box.

At first he was unsure of what he was looking at. Sure, the picture was simply black and white but he just couldn’t figure out what it was. Until his eyes drifted to the upper left hand corner, containing your full name, medical information, and the date. Was this what he thought it was? Were you pregnant? He took the ultrasound into his hands, forgetting about the ring.

He swore that at that very moment, he could’ve cried, and he did. What was he going to do now? He didn’t know if he should’ve waited for you to return or leave. On one hand he would be starting a family with you while on the other he would be following his dreams.

“So, you knew? That I was pregnant?” Anakin nodded his head, “..and you still chose to leave?” The words felt heavy on your tongue. “Believe me, I wanted to stay. For god's sake, y/n, I waited there for you. For HOURS! By the time I had to leave you still weren’t back. I had to choose between my passion and you. It wasn’t easy to make the decision, but you weren’t there and my future was awaiting me.” Anakin’s voice was quivering, it hurt him to think about this.

“Anakin, can I ask you a question?” Anakin nodded his head, motioning for you to go on. “The night we broke up, if I had told you that I was pregnant; would you have stayed?” His mouth opened as if he was going to answer, only for it to snap shut. Tears welled up in your eyes, you had your answer, “You know what, it doesn’t matter, it’s not like I kept the baby.” You shook your head, not wanting to cry in front of Anakin. You stood up, gathering your things and left without uttering another word to him. Everything he said to you was a lie, because if he had really loved you, he would’ve stayed.

And I'm gonna keep on loving you, because it's the only thing I wanna do.

-

By the time you had gotten home, you had much time to think. You’d spent the past five years dreaming of that exact moment. You would’ve told him you were pregnant, and in return he would’ve chosen to be with you. The two of you would get married and live a happy life with your children. But those dreams were shattered by the harsh reality. Anakin wouldn’t have stayed and he wouldn’t have married you.

Moving into the bathroom, you removed your makeup, seeing as it was ruined by your tears, again. Taking off your clothes, you hopped into the hot shower. You were going to cry but decided to give your eyes a rest since you had basically cried all the way home. After changing into your pajamas you creeped into your room.. Slowing making your way to bed, you got under the covers. Once you had almost fallen asleep, you felt something lay on your chest. You gently started stroking her hair, “Sorry, did I wake you, Shani?” you asked softly, a quiver in your voice.

“No, it’s okay momma. I was waiting for you to get home.” Her voice was quiet and delicate. “Are you okay momma?” Although she was barely five, she was a smart girl. She looked up, noticing your eyes were swollen. She must’ve heard the falter in your voice.

“Of course I am Ani, I’ve got my little angel with me.” She gently laid her head back down, her small arms doing their best to wrap around you. You continued stroking her hair until her breathing evened out, signalling she was asleep.

Soon after, you found yourself dozing off to the thought of what could’ve been.

I don't wanna sleep, I just wanna keep on loving you.

[my-whumpy-little-heart]

Tied to a table troupe rating/rant GO I am enabling you

Nemi how dare you expose me like this you’re fantastic. Sorry this took so long.

No | rather not | I dunno | I guess | Sure | Yes | FUCK yes | Oh god you don’t even know | AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Listen, if there’s any trope that I love just as much or maybe even more than permanent marks it’s being restrained against a table. Wanna know why?

1) They’re! So! Fucking! Vulnerable!!!!!!

Being tied down to a table leaves a whumpee so open and vulnerable. There’s no way to curl up or make themselves smaller or protect any part of their body that isn’t being pressed against the table. You can restrain them with hands by their side or pulled up above their head, or limbs stretched far apart or 

They don’t have a full range of vision either. Depending on how well you restrain your whumpee’s head, they’ve got a maximum of full side to side vision and possibly some brief looks above their head if they can handle the vertigo inducing feeling of tipping your head back nearly upside down to get some extra perspective. but with enough restraint, you can take that away from them, and even their side view if you’re adamant about it. 

Just force the whumpee to stare upward, only seeing the whumper when they’re close enough, and not having a clear idea of what’s gonna happen to them. They’re so open and vulnerable to whatever is going on, and not knowing what to expect makes them even more so!

And of course, if you gag or muzzle them that adds a whole other level. They can’t even have a conversation where the whumper is condescending and vague about their questions of what the hell is going on, and just have to watch in wordless silence (or muffled shouting, whichever suits your fancy) as the whumper mills around before finally standing to face them, taking action on whatever their plans are.

There’s a lot more to go on from here, but I’m putting a cut because this got a little long! Head below for more excited table content.

2) Hi Hello Yes That’s Absolutely Terrifying In My Personal Opinion

Listen I think I just need an entire section to talk about this sensation. Being tied to a table is an inherently inferior position to someone else, because everyone around you can loom over, look down on you, and no matter how much they get down on your level you still feel lower than them. You have absolutely zero control over what they do and that in and of itself is so scary!

Even being tied to the table with nobody around is bad. There’s really no easy hope of escape from that, assuming it’s done well so there’s no wiggling out from under the bonds, and the whumpee is just left to. sit there. and imagine what in the world they’re tied down like this for. because tied down completely flat is such a unique, particular situation. And it’s not easy to convince yourself that someone would choose that exact position without a specific plan in mind.

So much room for terror to brew, the cold of the table to seep into their bones, and the nature of the position they’re stuck in to really sink in.

3) Med!whump (content warning that this section will be all about medical based whump, and fixating on ‘lab rat’ type whumpees! skip to number four if that’s something you’re not comfortable with!)

Ohohohoo yes, medical whump has a special place in my heart, and the trope of being restrained against a table has a lot to do with that! 

Day after day, a whumpee is taken out of their cell and used for experimental purposes. There are different places they’re taken within the lab, but all the worst things happen on the table. 

One of my favorite parts is the compliance, or lack thereof. Someone new to the facility seeing that table for the first time, being coaxed up on it through their fear by threats of the awful things they’ve already been through. Trembling against it at having to hold still, even as they’re tied down so tightly that it’s uncomfortable. And then watching the whumper in their element, preparing different implements that they can’t quite catch a glimpse of until they set a folding table with everything readied right near the whumpee’s head. 

What’s on there? What ideas does it give the whumpee? How long are they left to lay there, stewing in their fear before anything even happens to them?

But let’s also imagine every time after that. The first experience on the table was so horrific that the next time they’re brought there, even if they’ve learned to be obedient, they panic. They fight every step of the way, throwing themself back against the whumper’s hold. And they were probably prepared for the whumpee’s resistance, whether that was by restraining them further, bringing an assistant to help them, sedating them partially beforehand, etc. And so they wrestle the whumpee up on there, forcing them down, maybe having to bash their head against the table so they go limp for a second...

Oh, and either way please don’t forget the blinding light directly overhead that makes it painful to keep their eyes open, but shutting them hardly does anything to block it out. It’s disorienting and will probably give them a headache, but it’s all worth it so the whumper can properly see what they’re doing (and also be silhouetted by the light so the whumpee can’t see their face as well to read them)

4) Seriously, They Can’t Fucking Move

That’s it. That’s the entire point. Whumpees throwing their entire weight against the straps and not being able to go anywhere. Not being able to adjust and shift their weight, forced to lay the exact same way against the table for hours on end, probably getting uncomfortable with the pressure and hard surface. Good stuff!

5) Some tropes go best in pairs!

Take a knife (or your bare hand if you’re looking to freak them out and not immediately hurt!) and trace it across the whumpee’s exposed body, not even cutting at first. running it across planes of skin they can’t see, leaving prickling shivers in its wake while they wait tensely for the pain. The whumper telling them to just relax, tensing up is gonna just hurt them more, but they can’t relax when the knife moves so unexpectedly, running over wherever it pleases.

Choke a whumpee against the table! They’re being so good and holding so still that it’s nearly irresistible to just wrap hands just above the strap or collar holding them down to the table and tighten, cutting their breath off completely while they have no power to stop you. They pull against the restraints as hard as they can but they won’t be able to claw at the hands keeping the breath from their lungs.

Oh, and instead of pressing them into the table, you could always push them off it too! I’m talking twist a hand in the whumpee’s hair and pull their head forward against the neck restraint until they’re choking on whatever breaths they draw and then slam their head back down against the table. 

Electrocute the whumpee on a table. Kneel above them and beat the whumpee on a table. Interrogate the whumpee on a table. Brand the whumpee on a table. Cane the whumpee on a table. Waterboard the whumpee on a table. jUST TIE YOUR WHUMPEE TO THE TABLE AND GET WHUMPING ALREADY IS THIS TOO MUCH TO ASK-

[stellar-starseed]

Closer Than That

Group: Stray Kids

Pairing: Changbin x fem!reader, Jisung x fem!reader, polyamory

Word Count: 2,979

Summary: Your best friends happen to be 3racha, but Changbin was your closest friend from childhood. When things start to take a different turn in your relationship, you're left wondering which way is up.

Chapter: 4/?

Other Chapters: Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4

Warnings: 18+; sexual content, language

Note: this is cross posted on ao3

Chapter 4

You weren’t sure whether or not you should be jumping at the chance to date your best friend. When you were younger you did used to hope it would be you two in the end. Life happened and crushed that thought altogether.

Soon enough you had to grow up and the idea of dating Changbin couldn’t stand up to your grueling adult life. You put it at the back of your mind along with dating in general.

That was until Jisung Han, with all his charm, waltzed in to your life. The first time he saw you he was hitting on you and it took you by surprise. He was generally outgoing you later realized but you had held on to a crush from that day. Changbin didn’t seem to notice, but every chance he got he was dissing Jisung in front of you.

You felt pretty selfish for wanting them both. But in all honesty you really did. Individually they were both incredible guys really, but you couldn’t decide if your life depended on it who you would see yourself with. Each time you made a decision you felt it was wrong. You cared for both of them deeply.

“What am I thinking?” You groan.

You had ignored Changbin’s attempts to hang out for a few days. You did feel kind of bad about it, but each time you did you remembered that hairstylist and the trainee and the barista. Your jaw clenched and you had to pull yourself from your anger.

You woke up one morning to your phone’s text message chime. Trying to reach for your phone, you swipe it to the floor.

“Damnit.” You groan as you push yourself up onto your elbows. You were not ready for the day. You stared at your phone that was too far to reach with a disapproving look.

“Is it even that important?” You lower yourself back into a comfortable position when your phone chimes two more times. “Seriously?”

You kick your covers off and head to the bathroom to wake up a bit. When you check your phone you have a missed call and several text messages. You had a rule that real emergencies allow for multiple calls but only real emergencies, so you put your phone down to take a shower before opening the messages. You had a feeling they weren’t going to put you in a good mood.

Your phone started ringing and you shut your eyes as the water hit your face. Nope. Not now.

“Answer your damn phone!” You couldn’t quite make out what was said but you shut off the water immediately.

“The fuck, bruh?” Chan opened the bathroom door.

“Uhm.” You peak your head out of the shower. “The fuck is right!”

“Why am I dealing with Jisung and now Changbin’s whining? They’re moping and fighting. And Changbin’s pissed at me? Me!”

“Towel?”

“Why don’t you just step out?” Chan smirked at you and leaned his elbow against the towel rack.

“Very funny. I can’t reach it from here.” You reach out your arm.

“Yeah, it’s a shame...” he giggled. You were upset with yourself for finding that cute.

“Okay, don’t hand me the towel. We can do this here. What are you here for?”

“I can’t take their bitching.” He shrugs.

“So, in dramatic Chanie fashion you blow up my phone and storm in here while I’m showering?”

“Well, I didn’t blow up your phone for the record, but yes.” He shrugs. You let out a loud sigh causing him to chuckle again he leans over and grabs your towel. He playfully starts to head out of the room when he sees the look on your face.

“Kidding.” He laughs, handing it to you. He walks out of the bathroom and closes the door behind him. “Also they’re fighting pretty bad. They’ve been getting into wrestling matches that Jeongin is definitely tired of splitting up.”

When you finish getting dressed, you find Chan on the couch with a bowl in hand. You laugh to yourself as he stuffs his face.

“I’m starving.” He shrugs. You roll your eyes and take a seat next to him. He offers you a bite which you gladly take because whatever he has concocted smelled delicious.

“You can make gold from nothing can’t you?”

“Thank you!” He says with a mouth full of food. “No one else agrees.”

You hear a knock at the door and your certain Changbin has come to mope, but Hyunjin stood there with a bag of food.

“Considering the state of these boys I thought you might want to talk.” He says pushing his way past you.

“Hyunjin-ah! I love you.” You wrap your arms around him from behind. “Can you kick Chanie out for me?”

“I heard that!” He called from the front room. You smile back at him and watch Hyunjin unpack the food he brought.

“So, you broke Jisung’s heart. What else is new?”

“I did no such thing!” You gasp. “Does Minho hate me too?” Your tone is softer and a bit defeated.

“Of course not. I mean he’ll probably give you shit, but when doesn’t he?” You nod and take the bowl of food Hyunjin prepared for you to the couch.

“So, how bad is it really?” You lift your head, pushing the food around in your bowl.

“Eat.” Hyunjin ordered.

“Yes ma’am.” You take a bite looking from Hyunjin to Chan wondering when you listened to any of them.

“Well Jisung is convinced that Changbin is sleeping with you just to claim that he got to you first.”

“Excuse me,” Chan chimes in, “I got to you first!”

You look at Hyunjin and feign gagging, causing Hyunjin to laugh with you.

“Joke all you want. We kissed on New Years the first year we met.” Chan crossed his arms over his chest in triumph.

“Does that count as getting to her first?” Hyunjin questioned crossing one leg over the other.

“Hell yeah it does.” Chan started off strong but then he saw your look and immediately toned it down. “I mean if we’re arguing about that sort of childish shit.”

Hyunjin laughed at the two of you. “I remember that.”

“Huh?” You and Chan say simultaneously.

“Jeongin found you two on the terrace that night.” Hyunjin says dramatically and his shoulders shake with laughter.

“Jisung knows doesn’t he?” Your mind momentarily plays the last day you saw Jisung before his attitude change. The day at your apartment where he told you explicitly he doesn’t think you’re a slut. You brush it from your mind. Jisung was definitely acting the opposite right now.

“Ya, I don’t know why you can’t pick one person!” Hyunjin pulls you from your thoughts with his laugh. “There’s always a new flavor of the week with you.”

“That’s true.” You add giggling. Chan pouted at you both. Chan set his bowl on the table in front of him and flopped back on the couch. Slumping over, he laid his head on your shoulder.

After your meal Hyunjin decided to drag Chan back to the dorms. It took some effort to get Chan to leave, but eventually you were left alone again.

You grab your phone and notice the text messages. After taking a deep breath you start looking through them.

09-563:

You can win a gift card! Click the link below.

Scroll

Mom:

You better be taking care of yourself

Scroll

Sammy:

Love you ;) Come see me when you get a chance!

Scroll

Binnie:

07:34 Ya! Haven’t I been punished enough?

You open his messages and scroll to the first message he sent last night.

Binnie:

19:45 I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that shit to Chan. It just felt right to call you my girl...

20:08 I also wanted to piss Chan off and I’m sorry...

20:08 Is this that serious?

23:59 Please don’t ghost me.

23:59 Please stop ghosting me*

02:27 I’m not sure if you’re reading these and not opening them,

but I don’t want to lose you over something stupid.

07:03 Haven’t slept because of this. Will you please just talk to me?

07:28 I’m sorry.

You sighed and backed out of his messages. You weren’t even sure what to say to him. You felt like shit for kicking him out and not speaking to him, but he honestly needs to stop making decisions without consulting you. You noticed you had a text from Jisung.

Jisung

09:49 Hey...

09:50 Can we talk?

Your heart skipped a beat. Who to text first? You start with Jisung and send a simple yes. You send a message to Changbin that turns out to be pretty lengthy. You let him know it’s not fair that he gets to flirt around and then claim you as his a second later.

Jisung responded immediately asking if you could meet at the usual coffee shop down the street from the studio. You were nearly through the roof. You jumped up and got dressed. It was only when you were heading out the door that you suddenly thought of all the ways this could go wrong.

Changbin paced the dorm, glancing at his phone every so often. He promised himself that he wouldn’t text anymore. He had said all he needed to say and anymore would just be pathetic, he told himself.

“Can you do that somewhere else?” Seungmin asked as he watched Changbin pace.

“He’s heart broken.” Felix appears from seemingly out of nowhere. “He refused my hug.” He slightly pouts. Seungmin shook his head.

Changbin suddenly sat on the couch and threw himself into a laying position, he was so frustrated he didn’t know what to do with himself.

“Much better.” Seungmin nods with a smile.

“He’s still sad.” Felix pouts.

“He needs alone time.” Seungmin nods waving Felix along.

Changbin ran his hands through his hair and thought about the fact that he laid his feelings out on the table. He told you and the guys that he wanted more when he said you were his. Your reaction was less than ideal. He was deflated. Then again, he thought, you may have just been upset to be out of the loop.

Changbin sat up. He decided he shouldn’t give you anymore space, he needed to go over there.

“Did you really ask that?” Hyunjin asked. “Never mind I’m sure you did.”

“I feel good about it.” Chan smiles.

“She’s not going to take you up on that. She’s in love I hope you know.” Hyunjin says matter-of-factly. “Oh.”

“Speaking of...” Chan says looking from Changbin to Hyunjin with a knowing look. Hyunjin nods.

“I wouldn’t mess with him.” Jeongin warns as he passes through, eating kimbap.

“Still?” Chan sighs.

“At your own risk.” Seungmin shrugs.

Changbin ignores the conversation and pushes past Seungmin. He pulls on his hat, shrugs into a jacket, and grabs his keys before slipping into his shoes. Changbin is more nervous than he expected heading to see you. It wasn’t normal for him to be nervous around you or about you, but he found these small moments popping up lately.

“Did you know he was in love?” Chan asked Seungmin when he heard the door close.

“It was only obvious. They’re both obvious, and they’re both dumb.” Seungmin says causing Hyunjin to laugh and high five him.

“But I thought she liked Jisung?” Felix pops his head out of the kitchen to join the drama. The guys got silent momentarily and Seungmin looked towards the far couch where Minho sat watching videos on his iPad. Minho chuckled to himself and cooed at the screen.

“Cute!” He said to himself. “What?” Minho whined when everyone sat around him. Chan snatched the iPad.

“Aw, cute!”

“See. Give it-“ he whined again. Chan shook his head and turned it off.

“You know more about this love triangle than the rest of us.” Felix said pulling the couch throw over his shoulders.

“Yeah, and I think she’s in love with Changbinnie.” Hyunjin affirms confidently.

“What if she’s in love with them both?” Minho grabs for his iPad. When Chan holds it out of reach, Minho starts to pout. “Why am I an expert?”

Changbin was just starting the engine when his phone chimed. He rushed to grab it seeing a message from you. His heart skipped a beat. Changbin quickly opened it and his heart fell a bit. He was a little sad to see you were still upset with him.

He had a natural flirtatious nature, but he will admit that he wanted to make you jealous. Changbin picked his moments carefully, he wanted you to see him as irresistible and it backfired. Never did he think you would think he was playing games. He though he was innocently attracting your attention.

Changbin sat in his car for a moment, unable to come up with a response. He still wanted to see you in person. He was determined to fix this. He typed and deleted his text message to you for the sixth time and tossed his phone in the passengers seat. He put the car in to gear and decided to work up his confidence on the drive over.

When he pulled up to your apartment it still took Changbin some time to get out of the car. His attempts at boosting his confidence fell short. He tapped the steering wheel and sighed to himself a few times before he seemingly forced himself to get out.

Changbin wasn’t quite sure what to say when he got there. You hadn’t ever really been mad at him before, not truly. Deep down he knew this wasn’t something that would last forever, but at the moment it sure felt like it and he didn’t want to be without you again.

Jisung tried to stay mad at both of you. He wanted to be mad at Changbin for stealing you from him, but he knew that wasn’t true. He wanted to be mad at you for leading him on but he knew that too wasn’t true.

Jisung wasn’t sure why he was so angry. He should be happy if your happy, but this situation left him feeling left out and unworthy. Not to mention the fact that he beat himself up for never telling you how he felt before this.

Though it had been weeks since he had last seen or spoken to you, he tried to convince himself that he didn’t want to see or speak to you. Jisung eventually started bringing you up without realizing it in conversation. Anytime Changbin would mention it, Jisung would blow up. It took far too long, but Jisung came to the realization that he was being entirely too immature and he truly missed being around you.

You straightened yourself out for the third time and finally entered the coffee shop. You’re so nervous at this point you almost turn around. You suddenly spot Jisung looking directly back at you. It almost startled you, but you moved towards him trying to compose yourself as if this hadn’t been so hard on you.

When you near the table, Jisung stood and walked around to greet you. His voice was soft and he gently leaned in. It was much more awkward than normal, but you were glad to be around him again. His arms wrapped around you gently at first, then he tightened his grip. Your certain he whispers I missed you, but it’s so faint you argue with yourself over it being real.

“Hey.” He says when you both sit down. “I ordered you a matcha latte, I hope that’s okay. I know you said you liked their matcha last time we came, so...”

“Of course it’s fine.” You flash him an appreciative smile. He did know you so well. Jisung had a way of remembering the details. You shift the napkins on the table nervously, not sure what to do with your hands or where to look.

“Hey,” he starts and looks away when your eyes meet. He takes a deep breath and starts again. “So, I just need to tell you I’m sorry.”

He looks in your eyes and you feel that nervous excited feeling rise in your stomach. He fidgets a bit in his seat and you want to comfort him, but you don’t know where to start. He hurt you, and it’s hard to know how to tip toe around his feelings when you aren’t sure what they are.

“It’s okay, Jisungie.” You look down at your hands. “I’m sorry, too.”

“No,” he sits up in his seat, as his hand falls over yours. He seemed to be gaining confidence. “Please, don’t be. You have nothing to be sorry for...” he sighs at himself. It takes him a moment to speak again as he gathers his thoughts.

“I’ve liked you for a long time. As long as I can remember knowing you, really.” Jisung was significantly more calm confessing these feelings to you than he had anticipated. It felt natural. Maybe it only felt that way because he had rehearsed it in his head so many times before this.

You suddenly felt your heart rate picking up. It was nervousness and excitement all rolled in to one and you weren’t quite sure what to do with yourself.

“Do you have feelings for him?” He questioned and after a momentary silence, “be honest.” He added.

You looked him in the eyes and nodded. You didn’t want to say it. You didn’t want to confirm it. But looking in to his eyes you knew you couldn’t lie.

“So, where do we go from here?” He questioned. His eyes caught yours and you felt a bit nervous . His big brown eyes were sincere and you didn’t want to say the wrong thing. You didn’t want to be without him again.

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Hey, lovely! I hope you enjoyed this. Thanks so much for stopping by💞

(These chapters are so long >.<. )