#this is practice angst for the true angst of my big bang piece

[mehoymalloy]

Fic Author Self-Rec!

Thanks for the tag, @foibles-fables

The Rules: Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Spread the self-love ❤️

Trying to run the gamut rather than going with recency bias (because Otohan, obvs~), so from oldest to most recent, we have:

Prometheus Bound (Aloy/Tilda van der Meer; Horizon Forbidden West, Rated M)

The fanfic I started writing for! This was my first "fine I'll do it myself" moment (because canon Horizon simply did not utilize Tilda to the best of all her manipulative, bitchy potential), as well as my first longfic! Also the first true sign of my thing about awful older women.

When the Darkness Comes (Silga & Untalla; Horizon Forbidden West, Rated M)

My Horizon Big Bang piece, and the first fic I ever wrote all at once before posting. Look I just adore these two NPCs that never meet in-game; they're now best friends because I said so and they hold a very dear place in my heart.

Let Me Lay Waste to Thee (Imogen Temult/Otohan Thull; Critical Role, Rated M)

Y'all. What can be said (Strap in I'm bout to say so much because I'm feeling especially sentimental, I should probably check my period tracker..) While working my way through c3, I got to ep33 (the "is she your favorite" episode), and instead of being traumatized by imodna angst, I saw the horrible awful murderous bitch tenderly and terrifyingly urging Imogen to give in and thought 'surely someone else has noted the Tension these two have.' Well APPARENTLY if anyone had they didn't do anything about it, because a couple weeks later I created their ship tag on AO3. Exploring this fucked up rarepair was the reason I picked back up writing after a six month break post-Big Bang, and ultimately Otohan became Thee Reason I kept writing. I never truly got the concept of a blorbo until Otohan (which is insane given we know next to nothing about her canonically and I just made everything up. Well, I extrapolated a lot but still I did so quite well imo). ANYWAYS, I love Themb. Y'all know this. Of course the first fic I wrote for them is my fave.

Unexpected Company (Grace/Athena; Stray Gods, Rated G)

If I somehow didn't realize I had a thing about awful old women, this made it embarrassingly obvious. I maintain that Grace and Athena really are wonderful foils to each other. I still absolutely intend to one day get back to the slow burn long fic I have for them, but this lil oneshot was such a fun way of dipping my toes into it through Athena's perspective.

A Dance With Danger (Imogen Temult/Otohan Thull; Critical Role, Rated T)

Obviously, Imogen and Otohan are tough to make work in a believable way (tho I like to think I do so well), especially when strictly constrained to a more canon lens. This fic was my way of tackling them from that strict angle, and my god was it difficult and immensely fun to write. 'What if Otohan attended the Jrusar ball waaaay back in ep 13?' was already a super fun concept, but taking an Imogen that was so much less knowledgeable and practiced with her powers and giving her the opportunity to get that information by literally dancing around this dangerous-but-can't-put-her-finger-on-why person? Mwah, they just WORK, people, I've been saying this for going on two years and I will keep saying it!

No tags from me but please feel free to nab and tag me, anyone who wants to~

[the-elemental-sides]

An Hour Left (Steampunk AU)

As previously stated, @fangirltothefullest’s Steampunk AU shot me through the heart. It’s five in the god dang morning and I just spent several hours writing about Automaton Virgil’s sad, slow winding down. I creeped on some of the worldbuilding given in the asks and tried to make it as accurate as possible to what we know! Warnings: Angst

Taglist + people asking to be tagged in fics: @alix-the-skeleton, @generalfandomfabulousness, @theevelynefurlongposts, @waxydoll, @aphandgflover, @ryuity, @veryvirginvirgil, @starlight-sanders, @gaylotusthatexists

6:00 PM

It’d been three days, now, since the five of them came to the junkyard. It had been so long. He was running out of time.

What started as brief stutters and drooping movements—passed off as aftereffects of the fire—became Virgil stumbling and shutting down completely in the middle of a ballet routine he’d started to cheer up Patton. In a panic, Patton had managed to jumpstart him. His key was gone, and it was undeniable that he couldn’t stay awake much longer. But he was still ticking.

“I have a little time,” Virgil mumbled. They’d hauled him into a big curved piece of metal that formed a comfortable den. His movements were stiff and conservative. But talking, as long as it was in low tones that didn’t rattle his system, didn’t waste as much energy.

“I have a sleep mode. Could save my energy. But no matter what, think I have...one hour left.”

“Just one hour?” Patton said. He and the others kneeled in front of him. Deceit was lopsided. Logan would need help standing up.

“I’ll make it midnight.” Virgil’s mouth curled into a wry smile. It was too much effort to change back, so he left it there. “That’s fun, huh? Devil’s hour or something. Keep you on your toes.”

For the next six hours, Virgil dozed. The evening passed.

12:00

At the stroke of midnight, Virgil’s eyes cracked opened. Logan and Roman were already kneeling over him.

“Virgil, Roman has something to tell you,” Logan said promptly. Roman nodded enthusiastically and opened his mouth.

“I heard...rattle, rattle, scrape?”

“No—Roman, I told you, use the hand signal system I designed for you. You’re only going to corrode your voicebox.”

Roman rolled his eyes, but he switched to fingerspelling his message. Logan patiently translated every letter.

“S-O-R-R-Y—Y-O-U-R-E—B-R-O-K-E-N. A-D-M-I-R-E-D—Y-O-U-R—D-A-N-C-E. S-H-O-U-L-D—H-A-V-E—G-O-N-E—B-A-C-K.”

“No, no,” Virgil said. “You couldn’t have done anything different. Look, Logan went back, and we saw how that turned out.”

“Yes, well,” Logan said, touching his armless stump.

“It could have been a lot worse for you than a couple of cracks and a broken voicebox.”

Roman nodded, but his eyes were sad. He lightly swatted Logan’s shoulder and started signing again. “H-A-D—T-O—B-E—V-O-I-C-E.”

“Yeah, of course it had to be, huh? I miss your singing too.” The Maker never liked it when he sang during parties because it took attention away from himself. Man, if Roman could sing now, they’d really be able to stick it to him.

Roman tried to hum a note—anything—but all Virgil heard was more scraping. A puff of smoke wisped from his mouth. Logan shook his head. “That’s enough. We can’t have two automatons breaking in one night.”

“Wait,” Virgil said after Roman had been shooed off to rest next to Deceit. “Logan?”

“Hm?”

“If it comes up—if there’s a choice—make sure you get fixed before me.”

“Virgil, that’s preposterous. It’s just an arm, I—“

“Logan, I heard it,” Virgil said, cutting him off sharply. “The screaming. I heard it.”

“The screaming,” Logan said, his arm drifting up to touch his stump in a, well, robotic motion. “You mean when….”

“It hurt, didn’t it?”

“...It did.”

“It’s not supposed to be like that.”

“It’s not.” Logan’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Virgil, I wouldn’t be telling you this if you—I—I would not reveal this information under normal circumstances, but it hurt. Truly, a lot. It’s the first time I ever felt anything like that. And...I’m frightened. We’re automatons. We’re not supposed to feel.”

“Then get it fixed,” Virgil said, eyes narrowed on Logan’s face. “...You keep touching your shoulder. Does it still hurt?”

“Yes,” said Logan. “It does.”

12:20

Virgil couldn’t move his head. He almost wasn’t aware of it at first—Patton had a light touch—but the healer was kneeling behind him, screwing around with his back.

“You’re not gonna fix it, Pat,” Virgil said, his eyes flicking to the right. “The key’s melted. Gone.”

“There must be a way,” Patton murmured. “We could rewire the system...find another key…”

“In the junkyard? We’re lucky we found me a cozy spot to die on.”

“Virgil!”

“I’m kidding,” Virgil said quickly, feeling Patton’s fingers grip his shoulders tightly. Patton moved into his field of vision, his eyes wide and scared. “I know I’m not really dying. I promise. I was joking to cope.”

Patton released him. A few seconds too late, he smiled shakily. “That’s our Virge.”

“You just focus on fixing up the others,” Virgil said, his gaze drifting to the star-filled sky. Silver lining: less robots to fix. Logan and Deceit and Roman could get all the attention they needed.

“Virgil?” Patton said after a little while. “Want me to keep looking at your back?”

“You know what? Nah. Could you just stay here for a little while?”

“Of course, kiddo.”

Patton scooted into his little enclave and leaned his head against Virgil’s. With great care, Virgil lifted his arm, inch by inch. Finally he managed to drape it over Patton’s shoulders.

“Now don’t get into too much trouble while I’m asleep,” said Virgil. “I won’t be able to talk you out of your bad ideas.”

Patton chuckled a little. “Like the time Roman wanted us to learn swordfighting and rebel against the Maker.”

“Or the time Logan tried to organize a union for the factory workers behind the Maker’s back.”

“Remember when you broke your foot doing ballet for the first time?” Patton asked. “You were so gloomy. You’d been built for one thing and you thought you failed at it!”

“I should have expected that, trying to make that landing.” Virgil’s eyes dropped to his ballet shoes. They’d somehow survived all the bits of jagged metal junk lying everywhere. They were a bit dirty and singed but unharmed. “Wonder if I could make it now.”

“That’s the first thing you’ll do once we get you a new key,” Patton said. “A big ol’ grand jeté all the way across the junkyard!”

“I’ll plan on it.”

A shadow fell over them, temporarily blocking out the stars. “Hogging Virgil in his last moments, are you?” a voice asked.

“Deceit!” Patton said. “What are you doing up?”

Deceit’s legs were bent at a funny angle where the joint and shin were missing. He shrugged casually—and very carefully, so he didn’t throw off his precarious balance. “Oh, you know. I was feeling better. Wanted to pitch my two cents in to the Virge.”

“Have a seat,” Patton said, patting the ground next to them.

“Actually, Roman needs your help,” Deceit said, gesturing over his shoulder. “Says his voicebox is acting up.”

“Again?” Patton hesitated. “Virgil, I…”

“Patton, go. I’ll just talk to Deceit for a little while.”

“All right.” Patton stood up. Virgil’s arm fell limply to his side. “Now don’t tire him out too much, Dee.”

“Who, me? Never.”

12:45

With great care Deceit lowered himself to the ground. His mobility was completely shot. Even worse off was his face. Half of it was simply missing, revealing the paneling and the glaring yellow pilot light beneath.

“Feeling all right?” asked Deceit.

Virgil took a bit to respond. He focused sluggishly on Deceit. “Oh yeah. Just...Tired.”

“Humans,” Deceit muttered darkly. “And they say we’re the heartless ones.”

“Hey, don’t bum me out now,” Virgil said. “I’ve got what, fifteen minutes?”

“More than that, I hope.”

Deceit leaned against the wall next to Virgil and stretched out his legs. Parts of them had been stripped away entirely, leaving only wiring. His left kneecap was missing some screws and rattled loosely every time he moved.

“The face I don’t mind,” Deceit said. “Maybe it’s even a good thing. No one wants to mess with a demented automaton. But my legs…”

“They’ll find a way to fix you.”

“Oh, I’ll get in line for it, I suppose. There’s too much for Patton to fix all on his own. By the time he sorts out one of us we’ll have all run out of gas. It’s just...frustrating. Because I can’t protect you.”

“That’s about how I feel,” said Virgil.

“Virgil, tell me,” Deceit said, turning his face to him. “How calmly are you taking this really?”

“I’m holding up,” Virgil answered.

“Well, that’s not vague at all.”

“No, it’s just...if I panic now I’ll just shut myself down.”

“You’ve had plenty of time to panic the last three days.”

“I guess I got it all out during the fire. I’m just glad all five of us are here. Together.”

“Together,” agreed Deceit. “Missing an arm, a voice, a face, a life…”

“Don’t put it like that,” Virgil said. “I’ll be asleep.”

“Of course.”

“It’s a standard procedure for windups. I heard it’s even recommended to let us wind down every year to let our systems reset. Of course, not like the Maker paid any attention to that, he just wound me tighter if I was acting funny…” Virgil’s voice trailed off. “Deceit.”

“Yes, Virgil?”

“Don’t tell any of the others this. I don’t know how they’ll handle it. But—I’m kind of scared, okay?”

“You, scared? Color me surprised.”

“I know, just—Deceit, am I ever going to wake up?” Virgil’s eyes met his, a note of panic in his low, slurred voice. “Deceit, will I ever be able to wake up again? Will it still be me?”

Deceit placed a tattered, gloved hand on Virgil’s shoulder. His exposed yellow eye glinted in the dark. “Don’t be silly. Of course you will,” said Deceit. “You have my word, all right?”

12:59

All four of them gathered around Virgil now, whose eyes moved in slow motion, slipping between the faces of his friends. “You all look so sad,” he said, his voice so low it was barely understandable. “Jus’ sleeping.”

“Of course, Virgil,” Logan said softly. All their eyes were so shiny. Automatons didn’t cry, right? They should probably get that checked.

“Take care of...”

Something ticked once and then stopped. Good. That noise had been getting annoying. What was it, anyway?

Oh. That was him, wasn’t it.

It was a little rude to stop in the middle of a sentence but Virgil couldn’t bring himself to care. He was so tired. He’d close his eyes just for a second

1:00

[soulmate-game]

Daughter of wonderwoman au where marinette finds out her mother is actually Diana and somehow it ends up with her meeting/being introduced to the batfam maybe because she has super strength and is seen yeeting some bad guys who tried to mug her... Or something.

“... you are running from your problems, Mari,” Adrien’s exasperated voice reminded his best friend. Again. She ignored him, and he threw his hands up in exasperation. “Look, you don’t have to do anything about it! Nobody would hold it against you if you decided to just, ignore that you found anything out at all. But you need to actually think about what we just found out and decide whether or not you’re gonna do anything—“ he side-stepped a piece of trash that went flying in his direction. “—or if you’re gonna move on and pretend nothing happened.”

“Isn’t that what I’m doing?” Marinette shot back, pushing her bangs out of her face and tying her hair back with one hand.

“No, you’re currently hiding away in Gotham to avoid your parents while you beat up every random group of idiots who thinks you’re an easy mark,” he retorted. Another wannabe kidnapper went flying in his direction, making him sigh and side step again. She had thrown that one with only her one free hand, showing just how upset she was. “You’re ignoring everything in your life, which is not what we meant we said you should get a little space.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Marinette dropkicked the last criminal into unconsciousness before stepping back and putting her hands on her hips. She looked over at the now seven passed out men in the alleyway, and the one very frustrated ex-model pinching the bride of his nose. “I think I’m coping just fine.”

“It’s better than being forced to suppress all of your emotions, sure,” Adrien reluctantly agreed. “But not by much. Your angry rampage through Gotham has already attracted more attention,” he raised his hand to point at a nearby rooftop. Several shadows lurked there, looming over the building’s edge. “Which, might I add, is exactly why I told you not to come to Gotham.”

“You’re the one who followed me here,” she shot back before turning to the shadowy figures above them. “Go ahead and come down! But it was self defense, and you can’t arrest or beat me up for defending myself!”

The first figure to drop down straightened your just as quickly, revealing the imposing figure of none other than Batman himself. The little white eyes on his cowl seemed to narrow on their own as he looked down at her.

“That might be true, but I’m sure you know my policy on metas in my city,” he grumbled back at her. He wasn’t necessarily threatening, but he definitely wasn’t welcoming either. With all of his limbs hidden behind the cocoon that was his cape, Marinette would never be able to predict his next move if he did decide to fight. Not that she seemed particularly worried about that as she crossed her arms over her chest and met his glare evenly.

“Oh, do you own this city now? I wasn’t given the memo,” she retorted. “And considering I didn’t even know I was a meta until last week? I think I deserve a little slack. I’m angry and if people think the tiny little girl in pink is an easy kidnapping target, then it’s their fault for making themselves into the perfect practice dummies for me to try out my newly discovered strength on.”

Adrien saw the eyes on Batman’s mask narrow even further. Marinette wasn’t exactly at her most charismatic at the moment, and Adrien didn’t wanna get the both of them into a bad relationship with the experienced superhero who always seemed to know things he shouldn’t know. So he stepped up quickly, getting in between Marinette and the Bat and holding his hands up in a placating gesture.

“Okay, Monsieur Batman,” Adrien started slowly, making sure his posture was impeccable and his smile bright. “She’s telling the truth, even if she’s not... the most tactful about it right now. She just found out some very concerning things about her origin and Gotham is the best place for her to hide from her problems and let loose a little pent up aggression. But— well,” he grimaced. “We didn’t intend to run into you guys, but maybe it’s a good thing we did.”

“How so?” Batman was clearly still incredibly suspicious of the both of them and wasn’t giving an inch. So Marinette rolled her eyes (she was still very moody) and leaned around Adrien so she could get a good look at the monochromatic hero.

“I thank my lucky spots that we ran into you, Batman!” She said monotonously. “Me and Adrien are paw-sitively excited at this opportunity.”

Batman. Froze.

Not only were those two lines the very first lines ever spoken to him by two foreign heroes a few years ago (with a few key words changed to protect identities), but they had become their code phrase for whenever they made calls to one another outside of their costumes. All at once it seemed to hit him— the golden hair and bright green eyes on the boy, the blue-black hair and normally super-focused bluebell eyes on the girl that were currently sporting very uncharacteristic frustration. Their heights. Their builds. All of this info flowed through his mind and compared to the information stored in his memory, and it only took the span of two seconds for everything to click.

Suddenly Batman was at full attention, back straight instead of looming over them and eyebrows clearly raised high under his cowl.

He knew Chat Noir and Ladybug would never take a random vacation to Gotham. Ladybug herself had nearly waxed poetic about how much the city depressed her just from the pictures she saw online. If she had willingly come to visit, it was more than to just blow off some steam.

“Batcave?” He asked, earning a relieved look from Adrien and a moody silence from Marinette.

“Please,” Adrien agreed. “You can probably help us, actually.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Marinette leaned back in the metal debriefing chair, legs up on the table and looking for all the world as the picture of pure teenage rebellion and angst. Coincidentally, Red Hood was in the exact same position in the chair next to her.

Batman and all of his other bats and birds were in the cave with the two off-duty Parisian heroes. Everyone except Adrien and Marinette still had their masks on, since the two Parisians were still not privy to their identities. Yet.

To be fair, the bats hadn’t known the identities of the two miraculous users either before today.

“Cha Noir,” Batman started, only to get a head shake from the blond boy.

“Just call me Adrien. Chat’s out of the bag—“ he ignored the groans at the pun and soldiered on, “—so might as well use my real name.”

Batman nodded. “Adrien, then,” he amended. “Why are you and Ladybug really in Gotham?”

Adrien sighed. “I wasn’t lying, before. Marinette,” he gestured to his hero partner. “Just found out some distressing family news. Since HawkMoth is gone, she doesn’t need to repress her negative emotions anymore. But she also didn’t want to be around her parents while she processed everything. I told her to choose any other city— really, I begged— but she insisted on coming to Gotham.”

“The never ending cloud cover and constant rain seem thematic,” she finally spoke up, reaching into her big over-the-shoulder bag and pulling out a large envelope. She threw it to Batman, making the thin package slice through the air like a knife. To nobody’s surprise the seasoned hero easily caught the projectile between two fingers. He looked at the envelope and back to Marinette, silent questions floating in the air between them. Marinette decided to answer at her own pace.

“That’s what we found out. You see, one of my friends is a huge science nerd. A genius. And he wanted to compare DNA samples between us to see if there were any genetic components that determined a person’s suitability towards certain Miraculous or other magical artifacts over others. It was supposed to just be a fun side project that he didn’t expect any breakthroughs on. He mostly just wanted to satisfy his own curiosity. But instead of finding out if our DNA was linked to the miraculous, he found out that my parents are not biologically my parents.”

“Hence the whole just finding out that you’re a meta thing, right?” Nightwing spoke up, fully invested in the story. “Did they never say you were adopted before?”

“It’s not in the system,” she replied easily. “My parents have all the documentation to prove that I’m their biological child, except I’m not. When I confronted them about it, they caved and admitted that they had adopted me in secret and covered it up. Apparently a friend of theirs was involved in something illegal, and,” she waved at the envelope that Batman was now opening. “The details of what we were able to dig up are in there. The summary is this; their friend was part of a secret, illegal experimentation to create clones that could defeat the Justice League—“ the air seemed to get sucked out of the room as soon as those words left Marinette’s mouth. Everyone seemed to know exactly what she was talking about. “—a group called CADMUS. They made me, as apparently one of their early attempts. But I didn’t exhibit any of the powers they were looking for, or any meta traits at all, and my body refused to mature at the rate they wanted. They had no use for a seemingly normal human baby that they managed to clone, so they were preparing to kill me and start over. That’s when my parent’s friend stole me, not wanting to kill an infant, and begged my parents to take me in and pretend I was theirs. Low and behold, it turns out that my DNA just needed a very specific series of emotions to unlock it’s latent abilities.”

“Those emotions being..?” Red hood trailed off, earning a wolfish smile from Marinette.

“Intense anger, betrayal, and confused frustration closely followed by the desire to punch other people’s faces in.”

“That last one is just an assumption,” Adrien chimed in. “And maybe not accurate. But the first three, our scientist friend was able to confirm. The rapid experience of a lot of negative but action-oriented emotions released whatever had been holding back the powers in her DNA from expressing themselves,” he had switched to French so that he could explain everything exactly as Max had told it to them, but he knew all of them were fluent anyway so it was fine. They nodded along, processing the information.

The crinkling of paper drew everyone’s attention back to Batman, who had been flipping through the detailed break down of everything they had found about Marinette’s situation and how she was made by CADMUS.

“Uh,” Red Robin nervously spoke up. “What’s up, Batman?”

“Your genetic donors...” Batman breathed, getting a wink and finger guns from Marinette.

“Yup. Isn’t that just the most fucked up thing you’ve ever seen? They were clearly trying to make someone who could destroy the world.”

“That makes me nervous,” Nightwing admitted, getting up and going to get a look at the papers himself. “It can’t be that ba—“

When even Nightwing was left agape, everyone else who wasn’t in on it found themselves squirming.

“Just tell the rest of us, already!” Robin demanded after the silence stretched just a bit too long.

“The unknowing genetic donors that CADMUS used to make me,” Marinette spoke up, still with her legs up on the table. “Are a very mad-scientist’s-wet-dream combination of Lex Luthor, Bruce Wayne, and Wonder Woman.”

“We don’t even know why they added Bruce Wayne’s DNA,” Adrien admitted. “Although our scientist friend thinks it’s because of physique. His hypothesis is that, in order to support the genes of Wonder Woman, they had to add male genetics that could support the production of a very high muscle mass and would lean towards easy development of a very athletic body. Lex might be evil-scientist smart, but he’s a string bean. But if he added the DNA of another multi millionaire who just so happens to maintain a ridiculously fit body without putting any obvious work into it,” Adrien shrugged. “Then maybe the clone would be able to support Wonder Woman’s genetics and that of two human donors without falling apart.”

“So I’m ‘the clone’ now, huh?” Marinette snarked, earning an exasperated eye roll from her friend.

Batman just stared at the both of them for a moment. He walked away without a word, and came back with a fresh needle and a box. He placed it on the debriefing table.

“Can I do a paternity test myself?” He asked, his voice suspiciously less gruff than normal. “I trust the both of you, but I rather be safe than sorry with something like this.”

The both of them just stared at him in confusion. They traded a glance, and finally Marinette shrugged and moved to sit in her chair properly. Her shirt was already short sleeved, so she just held her arm out so Batman could easily get a blood sample.

“Sure, why not. But do you just have Lex Luthor or Bruce Wayne’s DNA sitting around to compare, or—“ she shut up when she watched Batman take off his glove and roll his own sleeve up. Realization slowly sunk in as he asked Nightwing to take a blood sample from him.

“Holy shit,” she breathed, eyes wide. “You’re— and Luthor doesn’t know— holy shit this is even worse than I thought,” Marinette rambled, not even noticing as Red Hood moved forward and took a small blood sample from her.

Adrien put a hand over his face and just laughed for a moment hysterically. “Oh my god,” he looked over at Marinette. “You could take over the world.”

“I have the blood of Batman AND Wonder Woman on MY side,” Marinette joked back, also hysterical.

When the bat’s high tech equipment was able to come back with a positive result only a few minutes later, Marinette and Adrien had to sit on the floor and just let it all sink in. Which Batman did not at all help by immediately unmasking himself and trying to make a proper introduction.

“I wanna go beat up random thugs again,” Marinette whined, pulling at her hair. “I’ll put on a mask, whatever, but just please let me punch people. I need to punch people right now.”

[lcksndkys]

Pairing: JJK x reader

Rating: 18+

Genre: smut, fluff, tiny hint of angst

Word count: ~8k

Summary: Save a drum, bang a drummer. 

Warnings: one tasteful semi-nude sext, brief flashback of male masturbation, discussions about conception, an unholy amount of nipple play, blowjob, fingering, pussy slapping with a dick (but like, romantically), unprotected sex within an established relationship, multiple orgasms, creampie

A/N: This is my first attempt at creative writing… ever. Borne from my horny imagination and a thirst dream, this piece is an epilogue of sorts. S/o to @jinpanman ​ and @wwilloww ​ for being the wind beneath my wings and the floaties around my arms. Also, big thanks to Willow who made the banner <3

There are two things you know are happening tonight. One: Beyond the Scene is out celebrating the completion of their newest EP. Two: your husband, the drummer of Beyond, is going to come home, high off the adrenaline of a successful night, and fuck you into oblivion. Your period tracking app that you both have been studiously monitoring over the last few months has notified you that you were going to be ovulating over the next couple of days. 

You slip into one of Jungkook’s oversized cut-off tanks and a pair of crotchless black lace panties that you know he likes. Checking in the mirror, you see a generous view of side-boob due to the cut of his shirt and you turn around and decide to forgo bottoms entirely—they’ll be discarded soon anyways. Your husband may be out with the boys tonight, but you’re determined to wait up for him. It’s not that late after all. You roll over, pulling a bottle of lube from the nightstand and set it out for later.

Lying in your shared bed, you check your phone again, reading the last messages you sent to each other.

[9:51pm] Jungkook-ah: i’ll be home late babe. dont wait up. love you.

[9:54pm] You: … but i’m ovulating today. I want you.

You haven’t heard from him since. Tapping to the camera icon on your phone, you decide to send a little more encouragement. You quickly snap a photo of your torso covered in his shirt, making sure to give a tasteful glimpse of your ensemble. 

[11:39pm] Jungkook-ah: fcuk. dont temnt meee idk when ill  b home

You sigh. He's definitely drunk which means that even if he did come home soon, he’d be too wasted to finish the job, more likely to fall asleep seconds after washing up. Tossing your phone onto your pillow, you roll to Jungkook’s side of the bed. Breathing in his clean, slightly sweet scent, you let it comfort you as your eyes close. Your mind drifts off to the first time you ever saw Jungkook as a man. 

Sprawled out on a twin sized bed, there was barely enough space for the two of you. Propped against the headboard and wearing nothing but a smile, he laced his fingers behind his head and cockily encouraged you to take pictures. “They’ll last longer,” he had said. Cheeky brat. You had instructed him to pleasure himself as you watched. “Tell me what you think of when you touch yourself, Koo” to which he replied, “You in my clothes with nothing on underneath”. He had whined, panting and desperate to hold off his climax with the hopes that he might get to feel you wrapped around him. 

You made him promise that night would be a one off; an itch scratched. And above all, he wasn’t to speak of that night to anyone, especially his sister- your best friend. At the time, an emotional relationship was not something you were ready to pursue. And certainly not with someone so intimately linked to your inner circle. So when it happened again, and then again, you proposed an easy benefits-only relationship to which he quietly accepted. You didn’t know he had been secretly yearning for something you could not yet give him. Despite trying to push him and your emotions away, Jungkook persisted, and with time and patience, you let him into your heart and let him show you the meaning of true love. 

With a love-sick smile plastered on your face, you drift off to sleep, plans for tonight all but forgotten.

_______________________________________________

Eyes still closed and hanging on to the quickly fading wisps of your dreams, you unconsciously feel around the sheets for your husband. When your hands come across nothing but layers of bedsheet and blankets and the lingering warmth of Jungkook’s body heat, you roll over seeking the comfort of his embrace. 

Sitting up, you see that he must’ve moved you during the night towards your side of the bed before climbing in behind you. Realizing you’re still in his shirt and the sexy panties from last night, you huff out a groan of annoyance. 

You get out of bed and make the short trek to your bathroom to wash up. Jungkook never missed an opportunity to “practice” baby making. The thought that he was avoiding a session in the sheets with you makes you press the bristles harshly against your teeth. 

Upon returning to your bedroom, you see that at some point Jungkook had plugged your phone in to charge. You open up your app and double check that you’re still within short the ovulation window. 

The shuffling of slippers alerts you to your husband elsewhere in your shared apartment. As you leave in search of him, you notice he had put the bottle of lube away. 

Padding out towards the kitchen, you can hear the tinkling of dishware and cutlery. The smell of toast floats through the air as you spot Jungkook at the counter pouring his cereal into a bowl of milk. Endearing. You smile, remembering he once reasoned that adding cereal to milk ensures you won’t be left with any soggy bits. 

Coming up behind him, he startles a little with your quiet arrival. You wrap your arms around his middle, pressing a light kiss between his shoulder blades, and nuzzling your face against the wide expanse of his back.

“I missed you last night, baby,” you coo. 

Turning in your embrace, Jungkook wraps one arm around your shoulders and uses a pointer finger to gently tilt your head, aligning your mouth to his. He leans down to give you a sweet, chaste kiss in greeting before pulling away. 

“I’m sorry I was out late. But I’ll make it up to you ok?”

“How about you make it up to me right now?” you wiggle your eyebrows suggestively, stepping back from his grasp. 

His eyes rake up and down your figure, pausing to take in the long expanse of skin showing from under his cut-off tank. You turn your torso slightly, lifting your arms up overhead to smooth back your bed head, allowing him a generous view of your tits through the large armholes. You smirk to yourself knowing this simple outfit is one of his favorites on you. 

“- oh, fuck,” Jungkook breathes, feeling the beginnings of desire stir in his sleep pants.

“I was so ready for you last night,” you continue, planting your hands behind you on the kitchen counter opposite of Jungkook. With a hop, you sit yourself upon the cold hard surface and try not to cringe at the sudden change of temperature on your bare rump.

You beckon towards your husband with a crook of your finger. 

“I even wore one of your favorites,” you purr. Slowly trailing a hand towards your hip you pull the hem of your—well, his—shirt up, exposing some of the black lace panties you had worn. 

Jaw clenched and brow furrowed. You enjoy Jungkook’s rapt attention.

“Come closer” you plead. 

When he shows no sign of approaching, you lean back onto your elbows and prop one foot onto the countertop. Parting your legs, you smile victoriously when Jungkook’s eyes drop immediately to your exposed core. Thank goodness for crotchless panties.

His throat constricts at the sight of your pussy, framed in black lace, and bared lewdly for him. 

“Fuck,” he growls lowley. You watch his throat bob again swallowing down a moan. He looks from your eyes, to your lips, and down between your thighs. Cock hardening, his desire rises hot and heady at the sight of you glistening before him.

Seeing him grow in the unforgiving fabric of his grey sweatpants, you grin at his visceral reaction. “You know I’m ovulating, right?” You bring your other foot up onto the counter further spreading yourself out for him. “Fuck me, baby. Fill me up with your cum.” A little dirty talk was nearly always enough encouragement to get your husband started.

Doe eyes wide, he is torn between his carnal desires to ravish you on the countertop and his mounting emotional distress. 

When your husband doesn’t immediately react to your proposition, you know something is wrong. You hop off the counter and come to wrap around him. Jungkook has always been a shy boy, and as he got older, grew into a reserved man. He had a small social circle, knowing first hand that some people had no qualms with using him for his services. He was the golden boy. Jungkook was good at things and always has been- drums, sports, computers, video games, writing music, singing, sex. Many people sought to use him and had gotten away with it. And at first, he was eager to please; to prove himself worthy of the attention. But it wasn’t long before he grew cautious and began to keep a selective few close, including you. 

You've always seen him. And you see him now, eyes tight with emotion he's been holding back from you. He hasn't done that in years. 

Your arousal from earlier has all but dried up, evaporated with the sense that something important is weighing on Jungkook. 

"Do you need me to listen or find a solution?" you ask him. 

"Listen" he replies softly. 

You take his hand, leading him towards the couch. Sitting down, you part your legs pulling his back to your front. You wrap all four limbs around him and lay back to let his weight press the both of you into the cushions. His hands immediately go to stroke along the soft skin of your shins. You tuck your face into his nape, ghosting soft kisses along the skin available to you. Holding him against you, you feel Jungkook slowly melt, head leaning back against your shoulder. You know he’ll speak when he's ready.

“I just… Lately I’ve been feeling like you only want a specific part of me,” says Jungkook quietly. His hands go to tuck back some of his hair behind his ears- a nervous tell he's never been able to kick. "And I guess it kind of reminded me of the time from before we officially got together, ya know?" 

You feel your heart crumble in your chest at his admission. At that time, you weren’t ready for what Jungkook wanted to give you, convinced that the age gap and BTS’s rising fame would ultimately lead to disaster. Thus you had pushed for a purely physical relationship. He had agreed mistakenly believing that having your body, but not your mind or heart, was better than not having you at all. He hoped that time and love would help you change your mind. Luckily for both of you, it did. 

You want to say something to comfort him, but you remember he asked you to listen. You stay quiet, giving him a safe space to speak.

"And I know we're trying for a baby, but lately there's no intimacy when you make love to me. It's like once I finish, it's over and you push me away to lay with your legs up against the wall." 

You feel his ribs expand as he takes a deep breath, and then another. In, then out. 

"You know how important aftercare is to me," he continues. You do know. Jungkook is a romantic; being held and praised for a job well done has always been just as important as the actual act of sex for him. "And if you're just trying to fuck me, I don't know if I want it." 

There's a few moments of pause.

“Why didn’t you just tell me you didn’t want to have sex?” you ask softly. 

Jungkook’s eyes nearly bug out of his head. “No! I mean- I want it, trust me, I want you. But the last few times, it felt like you just fucked me until I came.” Jungkook goans. “You didn’t even finish. Makes me feel like a bad lover."

You cringe remembering that the last time you had been intimate with your husband, you straddled him and then rode him fast and hard until he spilled his seed inside you. The whole ordeal lasted 3 minutes tops, and then you were rolling off him onto your back leaving him to clean up on his own. 

Sensing he was finished, you start to apologize. “I had no idea you felt that way,” you start. “I never meant for you to feel that way. I’m sorry.”

“I just- I love you so much, and I would give anything to make you happy,” he says quietly. His hands continue to absentmindedly traverse the length of your legs.

Your hold around him tightens, a silent I love you. 

“What do you wanna do today, baby? Today’s all about you,” you promise. You’re ready to give your husband the attention he craves. 

“Anything?” Jungkook asks, craning his head back to meet your gaze.

“Mhmm.”

Jungkook smiles, pleased with your enthusiasm. 

“I promise you I’ll give you a creampie, but can we please just play super smash bros first?”

Seeing the child-like wonder in your husband’s eyes, you can’t help but chuckle at him. Jungkook has always been easy to please and competitive to a fault. 

“Sure, Kook-ah. Maybe I’ll even let you beat me” you joke, fingers digging into his ribs causing him to laugh and squirm from your grasp. 

Jungkook unwinds your legs from around his waist to set up the gaming console. 

_______________________________________________

After several rounds of super smash bros, Jungkook has other ideas in his mind. Pulling you onto his lap, you’re forced to part your legs to straddle him. He fingers along the hem of your shirt pulling up the backside to expose your bare ass. 

“Ah, you wore these for me?” he asks, hand rubbing circles along your quickly heating flesh. 

“Depends. Are you ready to take them off me?” you retort with a wink. 

Giggling, Jungkook lunges for you, wrapping his strong arms around you and burying his head into your neck. You feel the gentle pressure of his lips suckling and tilt your head further back to grant him more access to the sensitive skin of your neck.

He laps against your throat, making you moan out in satisfaction. Your arousal starts to leak onto Jungkook’s grey sweats as you absentmindedly grind your bare cunt against the stiffness growing there.

“Mmm, fuck. Let’s go” you pant, urgently tapping at Jungkook’s shoulder.  

Walking into the bedroom, Jungkook slowly lowers you down to the ground, letting your front drag along his, your soft curves trailing along the firm planes of his chest. The moment your feet touch down, you gently press a hand against his chest- right over his thrumming heart- and encourage him to sit at the edge of your bed. His eyes gaze lovingly up into yours, a small smile hanging on his lips, waiting for your instruction. 

You tug at the hem of his shirt. “Can you take this off, baby?” 

Jungkook eagerly nods, licking his lips in anticipation. He reaches back, hooking his fingers into the neckline of his collar and pulling his stupidly oversized shirt over his head in one swift motion. For a second, he lets you admire his body. He works hard to achieve his physique and enjoys knowing you’re your attraction towards him has never waned. 

You swallow down a groan as your eyes trail from his chest, dusky nipples pebbled with arousal, down his abdominals, towards the bulge in his sweats. Your husband is a beautiful man, inside and out, and he is all yours. Tonight and forever.

Climbing into his lap, you straddle him and cup his face between your hands. Jungkook needs emotional intimacy, and you’re prepared to deliver.

You kiss his forehead. “I love the way you think. You’re quiet, but so clever, and I wish more people could see how your brain works. You’re considerate of other people and so fucking humble, qualities I really admire about you.”

Moving down to his eyes, you place twin kisses over his closed eyelids. “I love the way you see the world. When I’m tired, you remind me that there is so much beauty in the mundane, and I’m so lucky to see it all by your side.”

You reach down for his hands and press your lips along the knuckles of both his hands. “I love the life you’ve helped build for and with me. People always say you’re good at everything, but they don’t see how hard you work to earn it. I respect you so much for that.” You play with his fingers- somehow long and delicate, but strong at the same time- and lace them together.

“I love your nose,” you continue, pecking the tip. 

“But-”

“No interruptions, Jungkook” you hold up a hand, effectively cutting him off. “I know you’ve always thought it was a little too big and round when we were younger, but it shows how much you’ve grown into yourself over the years. You are so sexy- both on the stage and off.”

You pull back in time to see him fighting down a shy smile at your praise. “Besides, a man should have a big nose,” you wink. Unable to hide his toothy smile or blushing cheeks, you continue.

“I love these cheeks,” you say, planting sloppy kisses over his face. “When you smile - a real, genuine smile- your whole face lights up. I hope our children inherit that.”

You plant more against the beauty marks on the bridge of his nose and under his lip, on the faint scar high on his cheek. “So beautiful,” you murmur against his skin.

“These are my favorite lips. You were the first man that I believed when you told me you loved me.” You press your lips against his, kissing him gently. Tilting your head for a better angle, you press forward more ardently, and part your lips further to slide your tongue against his.

When you pull back, Jungkook’s eyes are still closed, face craning forward to chase your kiss. You card your fingers through his hair and push him back enough to look into his eyes again. 

Your lips continue their loving path down his face, nipping along his sharp jawline and down his neck, paying special attention to his sensitive pulse point. Jungkook whimpers in appreciation encouraging you to work color into his skin. 

“Most of all, I love your heart.” Your arms wrap around his torso, hands caressing up and down his back as your head tips down to press your mouth against his chest, just left of center. “You are patient and kind and romantic. You show me every day what true love means, and I am forever grateful for that. You have all of me, and you always will. And tonight, I want to make you feel good because I love every part of you. Even the parts you don’t particularly like yourself.”

You continue to leave wet kisses along his clavicles and throat making him moan quietly.

“Lay back for me, baby” you say, and he allows you to push him onto his back.

Your body follows him down prone on the bed, allowing your comforting weight to settle atop him and press him into the sheets. Linking your hands, you bring them up to rest by his head. You reconnect and kiss him senseless, lips and tongues moving seamlessly in a dance well practiced over the years. You continue until he’s whining, until you feel him thickening further in his pants. 

Lips descending downwards, you continue a fiery trail along his jawline, hands caressing his neck and chest to maximize his pleasure. Evidence of your love blooms down his neck as you continue a path towards his chest. Perched on his lap, you grind against him as you take a nipple between your lips and begin to suck.

“A-ahh fuck”, Jungkook pants as your lips wrap more securely around his pebbled bud, tongue flicking against him. Your other hand rakes along his other pectoral, thumb catching along its twin and you rub circles over him with your thumb. His cock, which had begun to throb when you love bombed him, is now fattening with arousal.                                                                                

You trail your lips across his chest making sure to provide equal attention to his sensitive buds. Dusky and shining with your saliva, you continue down his abs, licking the contours of his hard earned muscles. Jungkook continues to quietly moan at the sensation of your soft, warm mouth slowly moving south along his body.

Sitting up a bit from his supine figure, you tug down at the band of his sweatpants. “Can I take these off?” you ask, slipping your fingertips into the waistline of his bottoms. He nods his consent and you push them down as he lifts his hips up, effectively removing Jungkook’s remaining piece of clothing. 

As you move to stand from his lap, he immediately sits up as if pained by any distance between your bodies. You give him one last, sweet kiss on the mouth before settling down on your knees between his spread legs. His cock, perfectly framed between powerful thighs, is hardening rapidly and attempting to defy gravity as it bobs in the space between your bodies. Licking your lips at the sight of his leaking length, you settle on the floor and reach for his base.

“Hold on” he says, stopping you to reach across the bed and pulling his pillow from under the covers offering it to you for comfort. Your heart swells at his consideration and you accept it gratefully. You place it under your knees for an added cushion and make yourself comfortable on the ground.

Maintaining eye contact you run your hands up and down his thick thighs letting your fingernails lightly scratch along the sensitive skin there. Each pass brings you closer and closer to his cock, subtly twitching in eagerness to feel you wrapped around him. Keeping your eyes locked on his, you wrap a hand around his base and feel him harden fully in your grasp. Bringing your lips down to his weeping tip, you run your tongue up and down his slit, then slowly in a circle around the engorged head leaving a ring of precum and saliva in your wake.

“F-uuuck” Jungkook keens as you continue to tease him with your tongue. “Please. More, please.” 

Your lips immediately close around him, surrounding his throbbing cock with the wet heat of your mouth and begin to suck tasting his musky flavor. Popping off, you run your tongue up and down to spread moisture along his shaft; your hand will have to cover what your throat cannot take. He is not profoundly large, but he is more than thick and long enough to satisfy you.

Unable to mask his desire, Jungkook pants as your mouth works up and down his rigid length. You take him as deep as you can tolerate, gagging lightly when you feel him slide down the back of your throat with each pass. The hand not grasping his base is rubbing soothing circles along his hip and inner thigh, amplifying his pleasure.

“Mmm yeah, you’re doing so g-good,” he groans as you continue bobbing, hand furiously pumping whatever won’t fit in your mouth. He weaves his fingers into your hair, encouraging you to take him deeper into the depths of your throat. Eyes starting to water, his other hand wipes at the tears in your lash line as you continue to enthusiastically blow him. 

Jungkook’s volume steadily increases along with the pace of your mouth and hand as you work over his cock. You continue to suck him off sending white hot pleasure through his veins. “Oh shit- shit.” Jungkook stops you as his impending orgasm begins to crest. “You need to stop, or I’ll cum” he breathes out. Though your mouth is no longer on him, your hand continues to slowly jerk him off.

“Aren’t you ovulating?” he tries to confirm with you. “I need to put it in you,” he insists, teeth clenching together as your hand glides up and down the full length of his dick twisting your wrist with each upstroke.

“Tonight is all about you - about us,” you shake your head. “I want to make you feel good. Can I do that?” you ask as your other hand travels from his hip to cup and gently fondle his balls.

He whimpers in pleasure as you continue to stroke him.

“Do you want to cum in my mouth tonight, baby?” you purr. No longer able to formulate a coherent sentence, he nods his head aggressively.

“Good boy,” you tease with a smirk. Your mouth returns to his cock and joins the hand pumping his shaft. Years of learning each other’s bodies has taught you the tell tale signs of your husband’s orgasms and you can tell he’s close. Very close.

Hollowing out your cheeks, you apply the suction you know he has never been able to resist. You’re determined to suck his soul from his body, gripping him firmly as you furiously work his throbbing length exactly the way you know he likes. Your mouth focuses on his mushroomed head, lips sealed around the tip and tongue lapping against the sensitive frenulum.

Jungkook desperately tries to stave off his release to linger in the wet heat of your mouth. It’s been a while since he’s allowed himself to finish down your throat and he wants to savor it. “Ah, I’m so mad that you’re so good at this” he groans, earning a muted giggle from you. Stuffed full of cock, the vibration sends a thrill up his spine. 

You know Jungkook’s cumming before he can warn you. It starts with a subtle lifting of his balls as they prepare to empty into your eager mouth. Eyes squeezed shut and moaning wantonly, he chants your name over and over as he begins to orgasm. You continue your determined ministrations as his shaft pulses in your grasp.

“Hmmmph- ahh, fuck yes! Oh fuck, so good,” Jungkook whimpers as ribbons of cum burst across your tongue and hit the back of your throat. You quickly swallow his load as he erupts into your mouth. You continue stroking and sucking Jungkook through his high, helping him ride it out until he gently pushes you away when he feels the burn of overstimulation. 

“Good?” you smile up at him and let go of his wilting length to lick at a stray bit of cum from your thumb. You wipe off the remaining spit on your shirt.

“Amazing,” he replies, smiling dazedly down at you. 

You allow him to pull you from the ground up onto the bed with him, laughing when your knees pop loudly in the quiet of the room as you stand up. Giggling, you curl up against his side listening as his heart rate evens out to a steady rhythm. You can't be bothered to care that his skin is tacky with a light sheen of sweat.

You lay against Jungkook for a few minutes as he basks in the afterglow of a powerful orgasm. He pulls you tighter against him, tipping his head down to kiss you for a blow job-well-done. Tasting the residual flavor of his cum, he groans against your mouth, enjoying your combined essences.

Jungkook rolls you onto your back, continuing to kiss you with fervor. The sound of lips and tongues clashing fill the room as the two of you enjoy the simple intimacy of being together. Reaching down, Jungkook spreads your legs apart to make room for him to lay comfortably between your thighs. 

“W-what,” you’re breathless as his lips leave your mouth and travel down your jaw.

“Mmm,” he mumbles against your skin. “It’s your turn now.” He nibbles along your sensitive neck, goosebumps rising with his light touch. 

You run your fingertips up and down his back, scratching along the peaks and valleys of his spine. Leaning his weight into one arm, he uses the other to push up the hem of your shirt, ghosting a hand under to cup a breast. He palms greedily at the flesh as he continues to kiss you passionately. 

“I wanna see you,” says Jungkook. “Can I take this off?” he gestures at his cut-off tank you’re still wearing.

Criss crossing your arms and pulling up by its hem, you bare your chest to Jungkook’s eager eyes. His gaze drops down to admire the bouncing of your tits as you wiggle out of your top. Propping up on his elbows, he ducks his head to capture a nipple between his petal soft lips, coaxing it into a stiff peak with gentle suction and the lapping of his tongue. When your back arches in pleasure and you clutch his head to you, Jungkook takes the opportunity to slide his arms under you to hold you securely to his mouth as he worships at the altar of your breasts. 

“Baby, yes, you’re so good to me” you pant, feeling your arousal generously leak from your core.

Eyes closed and relishing in the sensation, you whimper, sending one hand to grip his long, dark locks and feeling the prickle of his freshly trimmed undercut. With a hand in his mane, you feel him unlatch from your tight bud to plant wet open mouthed kisses around your areola and across your chest. He stops over your heart, lips lingering to feel the rapid thumping rattle your sternum.

Generous with his attention, he moves to nip and suck around your neglected breast. He slurps your nipple into his eager mouth, tongue swirling to tease it to a hard peak. Jungkook's diligent stimulation of your breasts sends sparks of pleasure down to your cunt as he continues to lap at your pebbled beds.

“More, please,” you whine, bucking your hips upwards, hoping to encourage him to touch you where you need it most. 

Hearing you beg so prettily for him slowly coaxes life back into his spent cock. He feels himself begin to swell again against your thigh. Pleasuring you has always been incredibly arousing for him, and he knows with a several more minutes of rest, he’ll be ready to fuck you senseless.

Pulling an arm out from under your torso, Jungkook leans his weight onto one elbow and sends his free hand down between your legs to the treasure between your thighs. His lips pursed around your nipple continues to suckle and tease you into a frenzy. 

The room fills with sounds of your mewling and his blunted goans as he plays the familiar song of your body. His hands brush against the soft black lace as he spreads your legs, positioning you to his liking. 

“So wet,” Jungkook acknowledges with a quirk of his lips, fingers swiping along your slit to feel for your arousal. Bringing those fingers towards his mouth, he sucks your essence from his fingertips, savoring your taste. Jungkook switches nipples again and his fingers, now slickened with his saliva, return to the warmth of your pussy. 

You gasp when you feel him caress at your opening before sinking a lone finger into your tight, wet heat. Jungkook can’t help but grunt as he feels your walls clench around him, excited to feel it around his growing erection. 

“It’s all for you baby,” you praise him, carding your fingers through his fringe and pushing his hair back to get a better view of him suckling at your breast. Your breath hitches when you feel him add a second finger, stretching you open with his long, tattooed digits and curling them against your g-spot.

“Mmm yes- ahh. Fuck me with them,” you plead. Lacking the power to drive you towards an orgasm, he teases you with sensual strokes until your cunt drips down your ass and his fingers come out sparkling with your arousal. Completely at his mercy, you feel Jungkook slow down further. Brat. 

You’re writhing beneath him as he continues his personal brand of slow, pleasurable torture. His lips release your tender nipple and return to your open mouth attempting to swallow your moans. 

“Fuck me harder, please, I need it harder.” you beg, hoping to convince him to finger you to completion. Despite your request, Jungkook stops thrusting completely, opting to curl his fingers and rubbing softly against your g-spot while grinding the heel of his palm just off center from your pulsing clit. Your eyes are closed, but you can feel his gaze on your visage committing your whining and fucked out expression to memory. You’re being uncharacteristically pliant for him tonight- a change that he is very much enjoying. He files it under ‘spank bank material’ for when Beyond ultimately goes back on tour. 

“Please, baby, make me cum. I’m so close.” you try one last time. You’re panting and desperate for release. 

“You’re not cumming tonight unless it’s on my cock,” he grits out. His fingers stay hooked inside you, caressing at your sensitive front wall. Jungkook’s mouth returns to suckling at your pebbled bud and he slowly fucks you open with his fingers. Your cunt quivers and leaks with your arousal, but without the thrusting or clitoral stimulation, you won’t be cumming anytime soon.

“But how-” you glance down, not expecting his nearly fully erect cock. Pleasuring you had sparked his arousal again, the sounds of your approval and sight of your wet pussy glistening with desire has encouraged him back towards full mast. Licking your lips at his growing girth, you push his hand from your core to collect some of your personal lubricant. You wrap your slicked up fingers around his length jacking him to his full potential. 

“Uunffff- ok, ok. Hold on,” he says, reaching out into your bedside table for lube. You hear Jungkook uncap the small bottle and are eager to feel him deep inside you. Quickly flipping onto your front, you prop yourself on your elbows and knees, presenting your husband with your sloppy, swollen cunt- a soundless request imploring him to fuck you from behind.

“I want to feel you deep,” you reason and unable to resist you, Jungkook agrees. Eyes glued to the way your crotchless panties have dampened with your cream, he spreads a generous glob of lube up and down his cock. He wipes the remainder against your labia and rubs some onto your clit making you mewl out for him. He wipes off the residue on your sheets. You’ll have to wash that later.

Taking a moment to admire his view, his hands caress over your hips and ass. “Are you ready?” Jungkook asks, always so considerate of your needs. 

You nod and delirious with lust, you reach between your legs for him, sliding his bulbous tip up and down your slit before pushing your hips back to take him into your awaiting passage. Jungkook descends down creating a canopy with his body, sheltering you with the physical representation of his love. Jungkook’s hands find yours, lacing his calloused palms to the backs of your hands, fingers interlocking. With light pressure, he encourages you to lay your front down onto the bed. He nudges your knees further apart, propping you ass high in the air. 

Positioned to his liking, he takes his first stroke into your eager cunt. Despite his diligent fingering, the fit is still tight, and you feel the initial pinch as he breaches you. You both release matching moans upon your coupling, and you already know you won’t last long after enduring Jungkook's extensive foreplay. He sets a slow pace plunging deep into your velvet heat. 

“Harder, Kook, I’m already so close.” you puff into the sheets, turning your head as far as possible to watch your lover as he takes you from behind. “Please,” you rasp.

No longer denying your release, Jungkook thrusts faster, snapping his hips powerfully with the intent of getting you off. His cock hammers into you and you’re helpless underneath him to do anything but take it. He can already feel you tightening around him deliciously and lets go of one hand to reach down between your legs. With two fingers, Jungkook rubs tight circles around your clit while he continues to drill into your cunt which is just what you need to finally cum.

“Oh, fuck! Ah- ah-ah, Jungkook!” you chant. Your hands furiously grip the sheets trying to hold onto something to ground you as your high threatens to pull you under. Legs quaking and pussy fluttering around him, your walls contract rhythmically around his turgid length as he continues to rigorously fuck you through your orgasm. 

Jungkook whines at the sensations gripping his cock, but pulls out of your spent heat to spare you from the sting of overstimulation. Any other night, he may have considered fucking you into a second orgasm, but tonight feels different. Tonight, he wants to make ardent love to you.

Without Jungkook’s strong frame to hold you up, you crumble limp against the bed. Your ears ring with the aftermath of a good round of fucking. It takes a second to register that he is speaking.

“Can you take more?” he asks. Confused, you look down and see that he’s still painfully hard. Oh. His erection is glossy with your juices, shining as it bobs between his well-muscled thighs. 

“Fuck- yes,” you quickly consent to him. 

Jungkook swiftly rolls you onto your back again and sits up on his knees between your spread thighs. “I love you in these, but I want to see all of you,” he rasps, tugging at your ruined panties and pulling them off while his eyes stay glued on your saturated folds. Climbing back up your body, he spreads your legs wider and leans forward bringing his cock to your core. You look down to watch him steadily thrust his length against your slit, bumping against your clit on the upstrokes. 

Wanting to draw out his teasing, he grips his slickened base and slaps his dick against your slippery folds. Each wet smack sends waves of electric pleasure through your system as Jungkook works you back up. “Just fuck me, baby. I’m ready.” you insist. Your gaze trails up, meeting his heated stare. 

“I want you to keep your eyes on me when I make love to you,” he says, voice dropping an octave. When you nod in understanding, he catches his tip against your entrance and pushes back into your ripe, warm cunt. Your legs immediately wrap around his trim waist pulling him closer and encouraging him to brace the weight of his upper body on his hands. Your ankles interlock against the base of his spine to bring him deeper.

Jungkook starts with long, slow strokes, pulling nearly all the way out of you before feeding his cock back into your sopping pussy. Going slow enough for you to feel every ridge of his throbbing length, he impales you over and over.

Your back arches in pleasure and you have to fight to keep your eyes open for him. Wanting him closer, you greedily reach your hands up to pull him down closer to you, forcing him to drop to his elbows as he continues to give it to you slow and deep. 

Jungkook braces on his forearms and cradles your head. He tilts your chin up to align with his intense gaze as he continues to plow into you. Brow furrowed and eyes locked, your husband watches your dazed and needy expressions while his body and mind make love to yours. 

He’s always so good to you. Devoted and adoring. You’re suddenly struck with the reminder that this beautiful man is yours. Always has been. Always will be. And tonight is a good time to remind Jungkook how deeply you love him. A fear of commitment used to hold you back, but he peeled back your layers and showed you that love didn’t have to hurt. You haven’t been afraid since. Jungkook has the whole of your heart. 

“How did I get so lucky?” you say, reaching up to caress his jaw as he continues to thrust into your depths. “I’m sorry I lost sight of us,” you stutter trying to sound coherent as your husband diligently sinks his thickness into you again and again. “I never meant for you to feel-”

“- I know. And I’m sorry I didn’t communicate better, I just- I’m working on it,” Jungkook cuts you off. He knows this is a two way street. 

“We don’t have to try anymore if you aren’t ready. Pull out and I’ll suck you off again” you offer. If Jungkook isn’t 100% in, you aren’t either. 

“No, I want it. I’m ready for our love to create something beautiful and for everything that comes after that.”

You moan, eyes closing briefly, as Jungkook begins to pick up the pace. The increase in friction against your walls is quickly bringing you towards the edge again. An unexpectedly fierce pump of his hips has you gasping in delight.

“I said-,” Jungkook grunts with another sharp thrust, “-eyes on me, baby.” You pry your eyes open, surprised by his display of dominance and try not to squeal.

Jungkook reaches one hand down to tilt your pelvis back further and you lock your legs up higher on his frame allowing him to shove a pillow under your ass. The new position brings your clit directly under his pubic bone. When he slams back down to stuff you full, he grinds deliciously against you, making you nearly scream out in ecstasy.

“I love you,” you whisper in earnest. “I love you so much,” you moan as Jungkook begins to pound you into the sheets. You’re both quickly unraveling, approaching another high, bodies tingling with impending release. When your thighs begin shaking around him for the second time tonight, he picks up the pace filling the room with a symphony of your euphoria. 

Breaking your eye contact briefly, Jungkook looks down at the juncture of your connection and is enthralled by the visual- his cock coming out foamy with your cream and slamming back into your weeping pussy. Groaning, he suddenly feels the sharp sting of your nails raking down his back as you’re overcome with pleasure. 

“Come on, babe. Cum on my fucking cock,” Jungkook grunts, urging you towards completion. With your hips canted deliciously, he continues to ram directly against your g-spot. 

“Oh fuck, it’s so good. I’m so close,” you babble, feeling Jungkook push deeper against you to stimulate your pulsing clit. Hands clutching your husband and thighs trembling, your eyes slip closed as you finally succumb to his endeavors. You cum with a silent scream, head tilted back and throat exposed as your walls spasm uncontrollably. The wild contracting of your pussy squeezing his cock triggers Jungkook’s own release. His length throbs desperately within your walls as you coax him towards his end. 

“Ahh, I- I’m holy shit- I’m cumming, too” Jungkook whines as he climaxes with breathy whimpers, exploding as he fills you with streams of his ejaculate. He thrusts as deep as he can get while his length continues to spurt inside you, shallowly rutting to ride out his high. 

Panting, he collapses his weight into your waiting arms. “Oof,” you grunt as you feel your husband’s sweaty and spent body pin you against the bed. You let him rest against you for a while, content to feel the warm fullness of his cock and spunk nestled deep inside you.

“Can I stay inside?” he asks shyly. “I just wanna hold you.” You smile and Jungkook holds you close and carefully rolls under you so you can comfortably lay against him. With his arms wound around your waist and your thighs spread wide with his dick sheathed inside you, he ensures maximal skin contact.

Seeing his blissed out face, you giggle as the two of you revel in your post-coital afterglow. His spent length slowly softens letting some of his cum leak from your used hole onto him and the sheets below. You’re definitely going to have to wash these. 

Your fingers find their way into his hair, scratching along his scalp and pushing back his long locks to expose the sexy undercut hiding beneath. Jungkook’s eyes are still closed, but he still leans his face forward knowing you’ll meet his lips with your own. The two of you make out for a little longer, savoring the intimacy shared in your little bubble. 

Jungkook clings to you, preening at your gentle caress and basking in his favorite form of aftercare. Your cunt is runny with lube and your combined releases, but you’re too content to lay with Jungkook in your arms to clean up just yet. You lie wrapped around each other for a few more minutes, mindlessly kissing at his face and neck, whispering praises for his performance.

It’s quiet for a long moment, and assuming he must have fallen asleep as he tends to do after a vigorous round of love making, you attempt to unwind your limbs from his. Grumbling, he tightens his hold around you, preventing you from getting far. 

“Jungkook,” you warn with a laugh, “I have to get cleaned up.”

“Mmm not yet, hold me a little longer” he requests as he burrows deeper in your embrace.

Sighing, you relent, slowly dozing off with your husband in your arms. 

_______________________________________________

When you wake, you find that you've shifted in your slumber. Jungkook's chest is plastered to your back and he has an arm slung over your waist with a hand curled around one of your tits. The mess between your legs has dried making you cringe when you move to get up. Leaving Jungkook who is slowly stirring, you go to the bathroom to shower. 

You step under the spray and let the warm water relax you while you clean off the sweat and unholy mix of bodily fluids from between your thighs. You hum along to the new Beyond the Scene single and sing some of the chorus that you can remember. You exit the shower, wrapping a towel securely around you and return to rouse your sleeping husband.

You find that Jungkook is already awake and sitting against the headboard. “You know, I hope our kid doesn’t inherit your singing voice,” Jungkook cackles, cutting through the silence. 

"Why you-," you gasp, tackling him down into the sheets and laughing along with him. You pin him down and pinch at his nipple in retaliation. It’s not long before he’s pulling the towel from your body and rolling you under him to latch his mouth to your cunt. Before the night is over, he delivers another two orgasms and a fresh load. After all, practice makes perfect.

[soobmint]

voices | choi beomgyu [f] soulmates! au, 14.2k words

s u m m a r y : after seeing your soulmate for the first time (whether in passing or by actually meeting them), you are able to hear their voice in your head—but only when they are singing. you have never been very interested in finding love, and choi beomgyu has lost all interest in singing. what happens when the two of you begin to change one another’s minds about the things you wish to avoid more than anything else?

c o n t e n t s : soulmates au, strangers to sorta enemies to lovers, guitarist! gyu, freckle gyu, college au, yeonjun is your best friend, gyu is a brat but a cute brat, very fluffy, a tiny bit of light angst

t a g l i s t : @hyuckworld @chanluster @honeyju​ @magicalstellar @yeonjuniper​ (if you’d like to be added to the taglist for future oneshots, please let me know!)

n o t e : this was requested by my dear friend alice, and i hope i did the request justice! the lyrics used in the oneshot are from genius’ english translation of “runaway.” i hope you guys enjoy the oneshot, and do kindly leave a like, comment, or reblog if you enjoyed it! that would mean the world!

YOU MET CHOI BEOMGYU THE DAY YOU SWORE TO NEVER FALL IN LOVE.

 As dramatic as it sounded, the day hadn’t been quite so terrible. You were sitting cross-legged in the floor of one of the many practice rooms in your university’s music department with a bag of popcorn in your lap, your head leaned back against the wall as you stifled back a yawn. Your best friend, Yeonjun, was going on and on about his most recent breakup, but the story was so similar to all the other breakups he had gone through in the past two years that you were having a difficult time staying focused. The afternoon sunlight trickled in through the windows, reflecting off the symbols of the drum set that rested in the far corner. You scooted to the side a bit so that the light wouldn’t shine in your eyes anymore as Yeonjun paced back and forth in front of you.

 “And then she just stopped talking to me,” He said, running his hands through his hair. “Out of nowhere too! Things had been going so well, but then it was weird. Next thing I know, she’s breaking up with me—get this—over text.”

 You tossed a piece of popcorn into your mouth. “Tragic.”

 “I know you’re being sarcastic, but yes, it was tragic.” He finally stopped pacing and collapsed to the ground beside of you, leaning his head against your shoulder. “Love is so hard. You meet someone, you think it’s going to work and that you’ll spend a long, happy life together. Next thing you know, you’re single and stuck with your best friend in a stinky music room, waiting for some club meeting to start—or whatever it is we’re in here for.”

 “We’re here because we are in charge of organizing the music and theater departments’ performance at the open house next month,” You corrected, flicking his forehead. “And didn’t you only date this girl for like, a week?”

 He sighed, sitting up to glare at you. “Love knows not the boundaries of time, my dear friend. You’ll understand once you find it for yourself.”

 “Calm down, Shakespeare. I am not falling in love.”

 “Unfortunately for you, I don’t think you have any control over that,” He said with a teasing smile. “But why wouldn’t you want to?”

 You scoffed, turning to stare at him. “Well, for starters, you haven’t exactly given me a good idea of what ‘love’ is supposed to be, seeing as you’re crying about another ‘true-love-gone-wrong’ every three weeks. Why on earth would I want that for myself?”

 “Hey, love is different for everyone,” He said. “Just because my love life is vibrant and exciting and full of various names and faces doesn’t mean the same will happen for you.”

 “How do you predict my love life will go, then?”

 He hummed, tapping his finger against his chin in thought. “Well, you’re pretty boring, so you’ll probably be the kind of person that waits until they find their soulmate, then you’ll settle down and live a long, safe and uneventful life with them.”

 “Shut up,” you said as you shoved him, but you couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled out of you. “I think my soulmate is out of the question, though.”

 Yeonjun frowned. “You still haven’t heard him since back then?”

 You sighed, shaking your head as you leaned back against the wall. “Not a thing.”

 It was quiet then as the two of you thought about what this meant. It wasn’t the first time you had been faced with the reality of your situation, but it still felt like a punch to the stomach every time.

 In a world where people waited years, decades even, to hear the voice of their soulmate singing in their head, you had been considered extremely lucky to have heard the gentle voice of a boy in your mind at the age of thirteen. You knew that you had to have met him somewhere—at least in passing—in order to hear him, but you had no clue who he was.

 Yet, in a way, it felt like you did. He sang often—so often you wondered if singing was as necessary as breathing to him. It wasn’t a bother to you though; in fact, it was quite the opposite. The songs he sang always told a story; some spoke of love and joy, others off loss and heartache. You felt like each song he sang held a piece of him, and that piece was something that was shared just between the two of you.

 Until his voice was gone.

 It was rare for him to go a day without singing. Yet suddenly, in your sophomore year of college, days and weeks went by without a single note, and you had yet to hear his voice since.

 Your soulmate had stopped singing, and it was difficult to not imagine that the worst had happened.

 Yeonjun must have noticed the solemn look that came over your face, because he leaned over and gave your shoulder a squeeze. “Don’t be so gloomy,” he said. “He could still be out there.”

 You smiled the best you could, although the pit in your stomach remained. “Yeah, I guess he could.” You tossed the popcorn to Yeonjun and stood to your feet, wiping the crumbs from your hands. “Wait here, okay? The other guy that’s supposed to be helping us is—” You paused to glance at the time on your phone, “—ten minutes late. I’m gonna make sure he knows where to come or see if he’s lost or something.”

 Yeonjun nodded, helping himself to what was left of your snack. “Who is the other guy, anyway?”

 You sighed, picking up the piece of paper that the department head gave to you when she asked you to organize the showcase, claiming that it would be a great deal of experience for you to acquire in your senior year of university.

 You were mostly doing it for the extra credit points.

 You began to read the names of the seniors that were in charge of organizing the project listed at the top of the paper. “From the drama department, Choi Yeonjun and Kang Taehyun.”

 “Taehyun had an appointment,” Yeonjun said through a mouthful of popcorn. “He’ll be here tomorrow.”

 You nodded, tracing your finger along the page, stopping beneath the next pair of names. “From the music department, Y/N and Choi Beomgyu.” You looked up from the paper, tapping your forefinger against your chin. “Choi Beomgyu? Do you know him?”

 Yeonjun pondered for a moment before snapping his fingers. “Ah—that guy!” You weren’t surprised; Yeonjun seemed to know everyone in the performing arts programs at your school. “He’s one of the top guitar students, if I’m remembering correctly. Have you not heard of him?”

 You shook your head, looking back down at his name. Choi Beomgyu. It did sound familiar, but no images or information came along with the words printed on the page. It was nothing more than a tugging feeling in your stomach that made you feel like you knew him from somewhere.

 You began walking towards the door, still staring down at the paper. Just as the tips of your fingers brushed across the metal handle, the door swung open, and you barely had time to glance up and see a head of fluffy black hair and big brown eyes before the door crashed into your forehead so hard you fell backwards to the tile floor.

 With a hiss, you brought your hand up to your forehead, relieved to find a lack of blood there. Your eyes were blurred with tears, but through the fog you were able to see the same round doe eyes you had caught a glimpse of before you hit the ground.

 “Are you okay?” It was a guy’s voice, clear and ringing in your ears. You rubbed your eyes to clear some of the moisture and were then able to get a better look at the boy in front of you. Curly black bangs hung over his brows, brushing just over the tops of his wide chocolate eyes. His sun-kissed skin was sprinkled with a light spatter of freckles across his nose and lightly flushed cheeks.

 You blinked several times before responding. “Y-yeah, I’m okay.” You accepted his hand when he offered to help you stand back up, and soon, you were on your feet once more.

 “Sorry about that,” he said, brushing a hand through his already tousled hair. He leaned forward a bit, tapping his finger against your forehead. “Just got a tiny bump, though. You’ll be okay.”

 You backed away from his touch, but he didn’t seem to notice as he had caught sight of Yeonjun. Your best friend was quite literally on the edge of his seat, perched on the ledge of the desk while shoveling the last crumbs of popcorn into his mouth as if this were some movie unfolding before his eyes. If you had been close enough, you would have hit him.

 “Yeonjun?” Door Boy’s face lit up, and he strode over to give your pink-haired friend a high five. “I haven’t seen you in ages!”

 “Hey, man,” Yeonjun said with a grin, ruffling Door Boy’s curly hair with his fingers. “I know, it’s been way too long.”

 “I’m sorry, who’s this?” You asked, still a bit dazed from your unexpected collision with the door.

 Yeonjun looked back at you, gesturing to the newcomer. “Oh, this is—”

 “Choi Beomgyu,” he finished the introduction himself, giving you an overdramatic bow as he said his name. “And you must be Y/N?”

 Things were beginning to click together in your head: Door Boy was Choi Beomgyu. In other words, Door Boy was your assigned partner—the one you would be spending the next four weeks trying to plan a performance with.

 For some reason, the fact that you had met one another by him slamming a door into your face didn’t leave the best feeling in your chest.

 “I look forward to working with you, Y/N.” He gave you a big, lopsided grin, one that any other person would likely find heartwarming.

 You forced a smile in return, rubbing your hand across the bump on your forehead. “Same here, Choi Beomgyu.”

 -

 PERHAPS IT HAD A BIT TO DO WITH HOW POORLY YOUR FIRST MEETING WENT, BUT SOMETHING ABOUT BEOMGYU REALLY GOT UNDER YOUR SKIN.

 The day after you had first met one another, Yeonjun had asked everyone to meet up in the coffee shop inside the campus library. This time, Taehyun from the drama department was also able to be there. You had gotten to know him pretty well over the past four years because of how close he and Yeonjun had become, so the three of you hung out often.

 In fact, for the first fifteen minutes of the meeting, it was just the three of you sitting there. You pushed your tongue against the inside of your cheek in agitation before taking another sip of your coffee. “Does this Beomgyu guy have a thing for being late?”

 “Relax, Y/N,” Yeonjun said absently from across the table, his attention focused primarily on his cell phone screen. “Not everyone’s a time freak like you.”

 “Time freak—What does that even mean?” You crumpled up the wrapper from Taehyun’s straw and threw it at Yeonjun. “Unlike you, I actually care about getting these extra credit points and would like to organize this event properly.”

 “Hey! I care!” Yeonjun placed a hand over his heart, as though he had been wounded.

 You and Taehyun exchanged a side glance with one another, eyebrows raised.

“Stop looking at each other like that! I do care!”

 Before the point could be argued any further, a messy-haired boy crashed into the seat beside of you, out of breath, his backpack falling from his shoulder and onto the ground from the impact. You stared at him for a moment before realizing that it was Beomgyu.

 “Sorry—I’m late,” he said in between deep breaths. “On my way here—saw one of the campus cats—got distracted.”

 You stared at him again, almost laughing at how ridiculous of an excuse that was. However, considering what little you knew of Beomgyu, the thought of him being fifteen minutes late to a meeting because he got distracted by a cat didn’t seem all that unlikely. With a sigh, you slid a blank piece of notebook paper towards him and set a pen on top of it. “It’s all good. Mind taking notes?”

 He nodded—a bit too enthusiastically, if you were to say so yourself. “Sure. Can I grab a coffee real quick?”

 You were about to suggest that he should wait until after the meeting, since the three of you had been there for such a long time already, but Taehyun chimed in before you could say anything with, “Of course. We’ve got nowhere else to be.”

 It took everything within you to not roll your eyes. You were usually on the same page as Taehyun, but of course, this situation had to be an exception, because Choi Beomgyu was there.

 The slacker was rummaging around his backpack, searching for something. He pouted, looking up from his bag. “I forgot my wallet.”

 “No worries! Y/N doesn’t eat breakfast, so she always has an extra swipe on her meal card,” Yeonjun said from across the table. Your mouth fell open, eyes wide as saucers. “I’m sure she wouldn’t mind letting you use it. Right, Y/N?”

 You weren’t quite sure that you did want Beomgyu to use your meal card, but what kind of jerk would you be if you said no? With gritted teeth and a glare at your best friend, you fished your meal card out of your wallet and placed it into Beomgyu’s open palm.

 The pout left his lips instantly, a big grin taking its place. “Thanks. I’ll return the favor sometime soon.”

 Doubt it, you thought, watching him rush towards the counter to order. You’ll probably forget you said that by the time you get your drink.

 Soon he was back at the table, caramel latte in hand, your meal card back in your possession. You cleared your throat, shifting in your seat. “If everyone’s ready, we can go ahead and get started. I met with my professor yesterday—she’s also the head of the classical music department. She’s technically our ‘overseer,’ but all the responsibility of planning the performance is on us. We’ll only have about forty minutes total to showcase the drama and music departments, so we need to choose our sets wisely.”

 “Yeonjun and I were talking a bit about this earlier,” Taehyun said. “We’ve been preparing for our winter show since the beginning of the summer, so we figured we could just perform a scene from the play.”

 You nodded, liking the idea. “That sounds perfect. What’s the play?”

 “A Midsummer Night’s Dream.”

 “Right, I knew that. Could you guys work on finding a scene around ten or fifteen minutes long to perform for the open house, then?”

 Yeonjun and Taehyun both nodded. You smiled, glad that you were finally starting to get some things together for the event.

 When you glanced at Beomgyu to make sure he had written that down, the smile left as quickly as it had come when you saw that he was doodling tiny flowers and hearts all over the page rather than taking notes.

 He must have felt your eyes on him, because he glanced up and caught your gaze. Seemingly unbothered, he simply smiled and said, “Don’t worry. I was just about to write it down.”

 Your fingers itched to reach over and take the pen and paper from him so you could just do it yourself, but you kept your composure. “Beomgyu. Any ideas for what the music department could do?”

 He finished writing down Drama Department—Scene from “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” before looking at you again. He shrugged, another nonchalant smile spreading across his face. “Not really. I’m down for whatever it is you decide to do.”

 “Wow, helpful. Truly.” Your eyes went wide when you realized you had said those words out loud after Yeonjun and Taehyun began to snicker beside you. Your face flushed with embarrassment, but Beomgyu seemed unphased, that careless lopsided grin of his still on full display.

 You sighed, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear. “Well, I was thinking about having the orchestra do a piece, and then having one of the student bands do a piece. That way we have something classical and something more contemporary. Thoughts?”

 “I think that’s a good idea,” Taehyun said. “If we do our scene first, the orchestra could kind of act as a bridge between Shakespeare and more modern art.”

 “I agree,” Yeonjun said. “And since Y/N is in the orchestra, she can get in touch with the director and have them prepare something. Oh, and Beomgyu!” The curly-haired boy looked up from his doodling when his name was called. “You know a few different bands, right? Think you could piece together a group of performers?”

 “Definitely,” Beomgyu said. When he noticed your eyes on him, he quickly scribbled down Orchestra—Y/N. Band—Beomgyu Me.

 “Well, since we all have our first tasks, I guess that’s all for today.” You were happy that the meeting was over; you were ready to get back to your dorm so you could get to work and actually get things done.

 “Wait!” Beomgyu said as you stood up, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

 Now you have something to say. You raised a brow at him expectantly.

 “We should exchange phone numbers, right?” He smiled, standing up and holding his phone out towards you. “I have the others’ numbers, but I figure I should be able to contact my partner from the music department.”

 You hesitated, but knew there was no logical reason why you shouldn’t give him your number. You were going to be working together for the next several weeks, after all.

 After putting your number in, he took his phone back and grinned at you again, eyes scrunching up into crescent moons. “Perfect! I’ll try not to bother you too much, but I make no promises.” He reached forward and ruffled your hair, and you were too caught off guard by the sudden touch to back away, or to even react at all. He then waved at all three of you, throwing his backpack over his shoulder. “See you guys tomorrow then.” He turned towards you again, throwing you a casual wink that still managed to have you flustered. “I’ll be in touch, partner.”

 You turned to watch him leave, face warm as you brushed through your hair with your fingers, trying to undo the damage your “partner” had done.

 Something told you that he wouldn’t be keeping his promise about trying not to bother you anytime soon.

 -

 OVER THE NEXT FEW WEEKS, BEOMGYU PROVED HIMSELF TO BE ONE OF THE MOST BOTHERSOME PEOPLE YOU HAD COME ACROSS IN A LONG, LONG TIME.

 The worst part was the fact that he didn’t do anything blatantly wrong. He did everything he was asked to do when it came to preparing for the showcase. The first week of work consisted of the two of you gathering all the students who would be participating in the performances, along with Yeonjun and Taehyun preparing those from the drama department. Beomgyu performed all of his tasks just as he was asked to do, so it wasn’t as if he was bothering you by being unhelpful.

 It was just something about the way he held himself that seemed to get under your skin for no apparent reason.

 For the past week, your “partner” had basically been a tagalong—he would stand beside of you and do what he was asked without contributing much to the creative process of planning. You found it hard to criticize him up front, as he just did as he was told.

 However, that was all he did. When the four of you would all sit down together to discuss plans or ideas, Beomgyu’s role never changed: he would sit beside all of you, jot down anything you told him to in his nearly-full composition notebook, and crack an occasional joke that would always send Yeonjun and Taehyun into fits of laughter, but only earned a stiff, forced smile from you.

 You were starting to wonder why your professor had assigned him to your team. After all, putting on this open house was your last shot at making a lasting impression on the higher ups in your department. Everything needed to be perfect; mediocracy was not an option.

 In other words, Choi Beomgyu needed to step up his game, and he needed to do it quickly.

 You thought about this on the day of your first rehearsal, where all of the students who would be participating in the performances had gathered in the main auditorium of the music building.

 Drama students were scattered in all directions, occupying the space around them with dramatic line readings and critiques for their classmates as they practiced their roles. Yeonjun and Taehyun were busy taking charge of the drama students, making sure everything was running smoothly amongst them. You watched as Kai, one of the freshman students Yeonjun had taken under his wing, followed your friends around like a baby penguin waddling after its parents, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

 Music students were spread across the stage, the orchestra setting up instruments and covering stands with sheets filled by notes and lyrics while the band tuned their guitars and plugged up their mics. Soobin, a tall, blue-haired student from the same year as you, waved at you from stage with his mic in hand. You waved back, happy that you had been able to snag him as the main vocalist for the band’s performance—his voice was angelic, able to captivate any listener.

 “Hey.” You turned at the sound of the voice you had begun to grow quite accustomed to, whether that was for better or for worse. Beomgyu was standing beside of you, brushing a hand through the curly black bangs that hung just above his eyes. The tip of his nose was flushed pink, a sign that he had likely just been out in the biting cold that had begun to creep up as fall quickly approached. He had his backpack slung over one shoulder and his guitar case held in one hand.

 “Running a little late, aren’t we?” You asked, glancing at the time on your phone with no attempt at hiding your frown. “Is this going to be a trend with you, Choi Beomgyu?”

 He laughed, nudging his shoulder against yours. You wanted to be more irritated with him than you were, but he had the kind of laugh that put everyone around him at ease; the kind of laugh that filled one’s chest with warmth, as if you had been directly touched by a ray of sunlight reaching down from the sky.

 So you settled with being only slightly irritated, pursing your lips to keep your expression in check as he responded with, “What fun would it be if everyone was on time?”

 “It’s not about fun, it’s about making sure this whole thing runs smoothly,” you said as you turned to face him. “Speaking of which, since you didn’t have any suggestions, I went ahead and helped the band choose a setlist. They’ll only have time for two songs, but the ones I picked are really diverse and should be—”

 “Ah!” He cut you off, snapping his fingers in front of your face, causing you to flinch back in surprise. “I knew there was something I forgot to tell you.”

 “What?”

 He rubbed the back of his neck, grinning as he shifted a bit closer to you. You could smell his cologne—a misty citrus scent that was so light you could barely tell it was there. “Well, it’s kind of embarrassing, but the professor actually wanted the band to perform one of the songs I wrote. If that’s okay with you, of course—you’re the boss, after all.”

 “You—you write songs?” You asked, trying not to get irritated at the sudden disruption of what you had planned. He had been complacent this entire time, so of course, the time he actually had something to contribute, he would be messing up what you had already set in place.

 “Well, if it’s a suggestion from the professor, I can’t just deny you permission, can I?” You said with a forced laugh. “Do you have the—”

 “Sheet music?” He finished your sentence, shaking a stack of papers in front of you. “Right here, partner. Want me to go tell the band?”

 You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest. “Sure. Just tell them to switch the second song I had picked out with this one.”

 He smiled at you again, ruffling your hair with the same hand he held the papers in. “You’re a saint. I’ll talk to you in a bit then?”

 You had no time to respond before he was setting off towards the stage to talk to the band, papers and guitar in hand. You huffed through pursed lips, mumbling under your breath as you tried to put your hair back in place.

 “What was that all about?” You dropped your hands to your sides when Yeonjun approached you, eyebrow quirked. Half of his cotton-candy colored hair was pulled into a ponytail, and he had on a pair of big round glasses with what you knew to be fake lenses—a fashion statement rather than a necessity.

 “I don’t think Beomgyu knows much about personal boundaries or personal responsibility,” you mumbled, allowing Yeonjun to come up and finish fixing your hair with his fingers. “He decided to just now tell me that our professor wanted the band to use one of his songs in the performance.”

 “What’s wrong with that?”

 “Nothing’s wrong with it, I just—” You hesitated, unsure of how to respond without sounding like a jerk. “I just wish he would have told me about it sooner. That’s all.”

 “Y/N, you need to cut the guy some slack,” Yeonjun said, stepping back once he was finished fixing up your hair. “You act as though you have a personal vendetta against him or something.”

 “I do not,” You argued, feeling you defenses flare up at his words. “Why would you say that?”

 “I don’t know, maybe because every time he walks in the room you start to grimace, and every time he talks to you I can literally feel the amount of energy it takes for you to not roll your eyes.”

 “You’re exaggerating.”

 “If you say so.” He put his hand on your shoulder, giving you a stern look that did, in fact, make you roll your eyes. “Give him a chance, Y/N. You may end up liking him more than you’d expect.”

 You scoffed as your best friend walked away from you, returning to work on his previous tasks with Taehyun. A vendetta? Was it really that obvious to the people around you that Beomgyu got under your skin?

 Perhaps Yeonjun was right—you did have a tendency to be extra sensitive when it came to your academic responsibilities. Maybe you were being too hard on Beomgyu; his goal was the same as yours, even if his methods differed drastically from yours.

 You looked up to the stage to see Beomgyu laughing as he said something to Soobin, the rest of the band analyzing the sheets of music in their hands—Beomgyu’s song, if you had to guess. His skin glowed like honey beneath the stage lights, and you noticed that when he laughed, he laughed with his entire body; his eyes disappeared into crescents, his shoulders shook, he clapped his hands together and even stomped his feet a bit. You smiled slightly at the sight, before a pang of guilt hit you.

 He did seem like a nice guy. It was time you gave him a chance to be seen as such in your eyes.

 -

 ANY PATIENCE YOU HAD DESPERATELY TRIED TO HOLD WITH BEOMGYU WAS WEARING THIN, AND IT HAD ONLY BEEN AN HOUR SINCE YOU DECIDED TO GIVE HIM A CHANCE.

 You had both stayed behind with Yeonjun and Taehyun to clean up the auditorium after the practice. “I think that we’re done, don’t you?” You asked everyone after picking up a few discarded sheets of paper left behind by the drama students.

 “Almost,” Beomgyu said from the stage. You looked up at him to see him pointing at two large music stands left behind by the orchestra. “Someone left these behind.”

 “Can’t we just leave them there?” Yeonjun asked.

 Taehyun shook his head. “No, we were given specific instructions to not leave anything behind.” He glanced at his phone. “They’re about to close the building for the night, so we should hurry and put them up.”

 “I know which room they came from, so I can take them back,” Beomgyu offered.

 “They’re pretty heavy, Beomgyu. Are you sure you can carry them on your own?” Taehyun asked.

 “Yeah, it’s fine—”

 “No, no, someone should definitely help you. You have to carry your guitar too,” Yeonjun interjected, a mischievous glint in your eyes that sent sirens blaring in your head. The feelings of disdain only grew when Yeonjun made eye contact with you directly, seeming to give you a sweet smile, but you knew the expression was laced with ulterior motives. “Y/N, why don’t you carry one while Beomgyu carries the other?”

 You wanted to smack him, but that wouldn’t have been a good look for you, considering that everyone already thought you hated Beomgyu anyways. You glanced up at him on the stage to see that he had already picked one of the stands up, his guitar in the other hand.  He gave you a big grin, eyes sparkling like freshly fallen snow. “What do you say, partner? Care to give me a hand?”

 You pushed your tongue against the inside of your cheek, knowing that there was no way you were getting out of this one. “Sure,” You said through your teeth, glaring daggers at Yeonjun before making your way up the steps to the stage. The music stand wasn’t too heavy, so you almost dared to ask Beomgyu to try carrying them both in one hand, but decided against it.

 “We’ll go ahead and leave then,” Yeonjun said, throwing a taunting wink your way. “You two have fun.”

 You hate to bite your tongue to keep from cursing at him as Yeonjun and Taehyun left the auditorium, leaving you alone with Beomgyu for the first time. You glanced his way, noticing that he already had his eyes on you. Instead of averting his gaze when yours met his, he just smiled wider, gesturing towards the door with his head. “Shall we?”

 You forced another smile. “Lead the way, partner.”

 You followed him out the doors and up the stairs to the first floor, where the orchestra’s practice room was located. You were very familiar with the area, being a violinist yourself. When the two of you reached the room, you rushed forward to open the door, as Beomgyu’s hands were full. He thanked you and stepped inside first, and you followed suit, letting the heavy door swing shut behind you.

 “Where should we set them?” He asked.

 You nodded to the far corner of the room. “Over there.”

 The two of you set the stands down, and you instantly turned back towards the door, ready to get back to your dorm for some alone time after such a taxing day.

 “In a rush?” Beomgyu asked from behind you.

 You turned to look over your shoulder at him as your hand grasped the doorknob. “Nah, just tired. Aren’t you?”

 He shrugged, shifting his guitar case from one hand to the other. “Not really.”

 “Lucky you,” You mumbled, turning back towards the door. “Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow—”

 You stopped mid-sentence, heart dropping to your toes. When you tried to turn the knob, it wouldn’t move. After a moment of shock, you tried again, and then again, violently shaking the knob, trying to get the door to open.

 “No, no, no,” You said, shaking the handle desperately. “Come on, this can’t be happening!”

 “What is it?” Beomgyu asked, setting his guitar on the floor before rushing to your side.

 “The door won’t open.” You shook the knob more frantically than ever, the entire door shaking from the force.

 “Woah, easy there, partner,” Beomgyu said, gently placing his hand on your arm. “Why don’t you let me try to—”

 “What exactly do you think you’re going to be able to do differently?” You snapped, snatching your arm away from him. His mouth hung open, eyes wide with what you assumed to be shock. “We’re stuck in here, Beomgyu. We’re stuck, and we’re not going to get out for god knows how long, and with you as my ‘partner,’ I’m one hundred percent certain we’re not going to be able to find a way out of here on our own.”

 You could tell that your words struck a nerve with him by the way his shoulders tensed and how his eyes went narrow. Looking back, you wished you could reel the words back in, but they had already done their damage.

 “Why do you hate me so much?” He asked, his voice low and thick with irritation.

 It was your turn to be shocked. “What?”

 “I said, why do you hate me so much?”

 You blinked rapidly, feeling exposed and vulnerable now that he was confronting you. “I don’t—I don’t hate you, Beomgyu.”

 He scoffed, pulling his bottom lip under his teeth. “Come on, I’m not that much of an idiot. This entire time, from the moment we first met, you’ve been cold and snippy with me. You can barely hide how much you dislike me with your facial expressions. I thought maybe we just got off on the wrong foot, so I’ve been brushing it off and treating you kindly. But you still treat me like I’m some annoying fly that you can’t quite get rid of, and I want to know why.”

 “That’s not—I don’t hate you,” You repeated, jumbling your words together as you struggled to figure out what to say.

 “Well, what’s the issue then?”

 “You don’t take anything seriously!” Your voice wasn’t quite a shout, but it was almost there. Beomgyu took a step back, arms dropping to his sides.

 “You’re treating this entire thing like it’s an elementary school play,” You continued, your voice getting louder and your words coming out more and more rushed the more you spoke. “You don’t contribute in the meetings, you show up late, and you barely do the things I ask you to do. I understand it may not be anything special to you, but this is my last chance to do something memorable here. I’m graduating in the spring, and up until this point, I’ve been nothing but another violinist tossed in the orchestra. I don’t stand out to my professors, or to scouts, to anyone.”

 Hot tears began to well in the corners of your eyes as thoughts of your mother surfaced. Every word she had ever said about your pursuit of music being a waste of time, of how little a chance you had of making it, how your only hope was to stand out in the department, which, of course, she highly doubted you would be capable of doing.

 “I have to do this, and I have to do it right.” Your voice wavered as you swiped at your cheeks, where a few tears had fallen. “If I don’t, then I’ll—I’ll—”

 “Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Beomgyu’s voice was gentle, in stark contrast to the razor-sharp tone he had held just seconds before. You looked at him through your teary eyes to see that his own eyes were wide, this time with concern rather than anger. “You don’t have to explain, I understand, okay? I’m sorry, Y/N.”

 You sniffed, more tears gliding down your cheeks as you did so. “What?”

 “I’m sorry,” He repeated, looking as though he were about to start crying himself. “I had no idea that’s how I was coming across. I’m really, really sorry.”

 You stared at him, dumbfounded. How were you supposed to respond to that? The last thing you expected to hear from him was an apology, especially since, now that you had yelled at him, you realized how unfair you were being towards him. You shook your head, wiping furiously at your eyes. “No, you don’t have to apologize Beomgyu. I should be apologizing—I’m the one being irrational, not to mention I’m also the one that locked us in here—”

 “How about we just call it even then, hm?” He cut you off, looking around before he spotted a box of tissues on the front desk. He grabbed one and made his way back over to you, gently wiping the tears from your face, being careful to not touch you directly. “We’ve both apologized for something that the other person doesn’t think requires an apology. The grounds are neutral now.”

 You laughed, gently taking the tissue from his hand so you could wipe your eyes on your own. He stepped back when you did so, smiling nervously at your sudden laughter.

 “Thank you, Beomgyu,” You said quietly, wadding the tissue up in your hand.

 He rubbed the back of his neck, rocking back and forth on his feet. “No need to thank me, Y/N.” He paused, seeming to be in deep thought. It was quiet for a moment before he stuck his hand out towards you, expression cautiously hopeful. “Now that we both understand each other a little better, do you think we could start over?”

 You smiled, wrapping your hand around his to give it a firm shake. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

 -

 THE WORLD ALWAYS SEEMED COLDER WHEN YOU WERE ALONE.

 Of course, it could have felt cold because you were alone in a hotel parking lot, sitting on the cool pavement in the late hours of the night. You hadn’t brought a jacket with you, and your dress was sleeveless and made of thin fabric that didn’t do much to protect you from the wind that sent strands of hair flying across your face.

 However, you were certain that if your mother or father had been sitting beside of you that early winter’s night, you would barely even notice the bite of the wind or the goosebumps that prickled up all over your bare arms. Even the stars had denied you their company; the sky was pitch black, void of any trace of light.

 Lower lip trembling, you sighed as you kept your gaze on the sky above, thinking that maybe, if you kept looking, you’d find a single star shining amidst the darkness. Tears filled your eyes, but you wiped them away before they could fall.

 “You’re a strong girl, Y/N,” Your mother would say if she were to catch you crying. “Strong girls don’t cry, do they?”

 “No,” You whispered, even though she wasn’t there to hear you. “Strong girls don’t cry.”

 “What do you mean?”

 You jumped at the sudden voice, placing your hand over your heart before you turned your head to see a boy sitting on the pavement beside you. He had curly black hair that stuck out from beneath a beanie, covering the top of his eyes, and a big jacket on over his clothes. He seemed to be the same age as you, but of course, you couldn’t be sure.

 “W-what?” You spoke through shaking lips, pulling your arms around yourself in an attempt to stay warm.

 “You said that strong girls don’t cry,” He said, eyeing you with curiosity. “What do you mean by that?”

 “Oh,” you whispered, looking down at your shoes—a pair of black flats with scuff marks all over the toes. “It’s nothing— just something my mom says.”

 He hummed, leaning back on the palms of his hands. “Well, I think she’s wrong. Everyone cries, even the strongest people alive. If someone tells you they don’t cry, then they’re lying.” He turned towards you, a big grin on his face. “You don’t seem like a liar to me.”

 You sniffled, wiping your hand across your cheeks to catch the few tears that had managed to slip down. “Thanks, I think.”

 “It was definitely meant as a compliment.” He sat up straight then, narrowing his eyes at you. You shrunk back a bit, shoulders shaking as the wind only seemed to get stronger by the second.

 A moment later, he was sitting right beside of you, so close that his arm brushed against yours as he slipped his coat off, revealing an oversized hoodie beneath it. He wrapped the coat around your shoulders, and zipped it up, trapping your arms inside. He smiled again and sat back, but he was still close to you, so close that your shoulders were pressed together and his pinky was resting on top of yours.

 Eyes wide, you slowly shook your head and slipped your arms through the sleeves so you could reach the zipper. “No, I’m okay—”

 “Hey, keep it on, please,” He interrupted, placing his hand on top of yours to stop you from unzipping the coat. “It’s freezing out here, and you don’t even have any sleeves.”

 You hesitated, not wanting to be a bother to this unexpectedly kind stranger, but you would have been lying if you had said that the cold wasn’t starting to bother you. Not wanting your lips to turn blue, you nodded, pulling your arms back into the coat to keep them extra warm.

 “Thank you,” you said quietly. “What are you doing out here, by the way?”

 “Me? Oh, I was just sneaking out to the indoor pool.” He pointed over his shoulder at the building with a large dome roof made of glass. “My parents are already asleep and didn’t notice me leave. You?”

 “Ah, well, my family is staying here for the night. My parents and I are going out for dinner to celebrate my birthday.”

 “It’s your birthday?” He asked, eyes growing wide. You nodded sheepishly and his smile grew bigger before he reached over to ruffle your hair with his hand. “Happy birthday!”

 You giggled, smoothing your hair back down when he pulled his hand away. Your eyes met his, which seemed to sparkle with the light of billions of galaxies, paired perfectly with his beaming smile, and you realized that maybe you didn’t need the stars that night after all, because he alone shined brightly enough.

 He looked around then, eyebrows furrowed. “But, where are your parents? Shouldn’t you guys get going before all the restaurants close?”

 Your smile faded just as quickly as it had appeared. You swallowed, your eyes drifting towards a car that sat a few yards away from the two of you. The car was running and the lights inside were on, casting a yellow glow onto the two occupants seated in the front: your parents. Although you couldn’t hear what they were saying, you knew that they were yelling by the way they pointed their fingers at each other, and by the expressions on their faces, and the intensity with which their lips were moving.

 The boy followed your gaze, his mouth parting slightly in surprise when he caught sight of your parents in the heat of their dispute. He glanced sideways at you before moving to sit in front of you, blocking your view of your parents.

 “Why don’t you sneak to the pool with me?” He asked.

 You shook your head immediately, a slight smile returning to your face. It was clear that he was trying to distract you, and you were grateful. That didn’t mean you were willing to sneak away from your parents, especially when the tension among your family was already sky high.

 “Why not?” He whined, sticking his bottom lip out in a pout.

 “Because I’m not supposed to move from this spot,” You said.

 “And I wasn’t supposed to leave my hotel room, yet here I am.” He shrugged nonchalantly, brushing his bangs out of his eyes only for them to fall right back into place. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

 There were a lot of really terrible things that could happen as a result of you sneaking away to go night swimming with a boy you didn’t know while your parents fought in the middle of a hotel parking lot. You could probably list ten off the top of your head. However, when you looked into the starry eyes of the boy in front of you, his lips spread in an encouraging grin that made you feel warm inside despite the cold, you hesitated.

 What was the worst thing that could happen? The list seemed to be erased from your head as quickly as it appeared.

 He tilted his head to the side, a playful glint sparkling in his eyes. He stood up and stretched his hand out to you, his fingers trembling from the cold.

 “Should we run away?”

 Your fingers twitched, urging to reach out touch his own. You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to find the balance between being rational and following where your heart was leading. These two things did not seem to be lining up.

 Before you could do anything, however, you heard a car door slamming shut. You jumped to your feet just in time to see your mother stepping away from the vehicle before your father drove off, leaving her alone in the parking lot. Eyes wide with worry, you watched as your mother brushed her hand across her cheeks before taking a deep breath and making her way towards you.

 “Y/N,” she said when she reached you, not even glancing at the boy beside of you as she took your face in her hands. “Your dad is going to come pick us up in the morning. How about we just have a girl’s night to celebrate your birthday instead?”

 With your heart dropping to your toes, you felt the tears welling in your eyes once again, but you refused to let them fall. You smiled and nodded, wrapping your hand around your mother’s. “Yeah. That sounds fine.”

 You turned towards the boy to see that his face was full of concern. Forcing the best smile you could, you unzipped his coat and slipped it off your shoulders before placing it back in his outstretched hands.

 “Thank you,” you said quietly. Before he could say anything back, you had turned away and began walking back towards the entrance, arm-in-arm with your mother.

 “I was thinking we could order a pizza and rent your favorite movies,” she said, straining to keep the emotion out of your voice. “I’ll order the food once we get back to the room, okay?”

 You nodded slowly, halting your footsteps just before the automatic doors that led inside.

 But when you turned your head to catch one last look at the boy who shined brighter than the stars, he was already gone.

 -

 IN THE HAZY PLACE BETWEEN SLEEPING AND WAKING, YOU COULD HAVE SWORN YOU HEARD HIM SINGING.

 With your eyes still closed, the sound rang through your head, clear as day. It was comforting, as if you had heard it before. Yet it wasn’t a sound that only echoed around you. This voice, so gentle and sweet that it seemed to drip with sugar and honey, filled all of your senses to the brim. You weren’t just hearing it, you were feeling it.

 “In moments like those, when tears fill your eyes, hold my hand tight. Should we run away?”

 You sighed, swept away by the sound and the words that the voice sang. You felt as though you had heard it before, but you couldn’t quite think of where. Snuggling closer to whatever it was that you were leaning against, you allowed the faintest of smiles to trace its way across your lips.

 The singing stopped. “Y/N?”

 “Hmm?” You pressed your face closer against the warmth you were leaning into, frowning at the sudden absence of the soothing voice.

 “Are you awake?”

 “Yeah,” you mumbled, slowly forcing your eyes open.

 You weren’t quite sure where exactly you expected to be when you opened your eyes, but it definitely was not on the floor of the orchestra practice room with your head in Choi Beomgyu’s lap. Beomgyu was smiling down at you, black curls hanging over his eyes, freckles illuminated by the faint moonlight that spilled through the windows.

 You sat up quickly, trying to fix your messy hair as you felt your face grow warm. You didn’t remember falling asleep, but you were incredibly embarrassed that you had.

 “How—how long was I asleep?” You asked, your voice hoarse.

 “Just an hour or so. I think you got so stressed out after trying to call so many people that you just passed out,” Beomgyu said. He reached his hands toward you and helped you straighten up your hair, which only served to make your face even warmer than before.

 “Sorry,” you said, gesturing to his lap. “For . . . that.”

 He waved his hand at you before folding his hands behind his head. “Don’t apologize. Seems like you needed the sleep—you were dreaming pretty intensely.”

 “I was? Did I say anything weird in my sleep? What did I say? Was it embarrassing?” You grabbed his sleeve, eyes wide as you bombarded him with questions.

 He laughed, shaking his head in reassurance. “Don’t worry, it was nothing embarrassing. But you were talking.”

 “What did I say?”

 “Hmm, something about it being your birthday?” He placed a finger against his chin, eyes narrowed. “I’m not sure exactly what else. It was all kinda random.”

 You squeezed your eyes shut, biting the inside of your cheek as you let go of his sleeve. You remembered every bit of the dream you had—well, it wasn’t really a dream as much as it was a memory. It was embarrassing to think that Beomgyu had heard any part of the memory, but you tried not to think about it too much.

 “Beomgyu,” You said, opening your eyes once more to look at him. “Were you singing just now? Before I woke up?”

 He didn’t say anything at first, his expression blank. Then, he smiled, nudging your shoulder with his. “Of course not—you know I don’t sing. Why?”

 “Actually, for the record, I did not know that,” You corrected. “And I don’t know, I just .  . . thought I heard someone.”

 “Maybe it was your soulmate,” Beomgyu said, moving his eyebrows up and down.

 You sighed, looking down at your feet. “I wish it was. I haven’t heard from him in two years.”

 The smile fell from Beomgyu’s face right away. “Ah, sorry, I didn’t know.”

 “It’s okay, you don’t have to apologize.”

 “Do you . . . know what happened to him?”

 You shook your head, staring at the moon through the window. “No. I don’t even know who he was.”

 “Hey, why are you speaking in the past tense?” He turned towards you and grabbed your shoulders, forcing you to face him. “Think positively, Y/N. He could still be out there. When did you first hear him?”

 “When I was thirteen,” You answered. “But he stopped singing two years ago.”

 “And you haven’t heard anything since then?”

 You hesitated, thinking back over the past two years and all the sleepless nights you had spent waiting and hoping to hear any trace of a note ringing in your ears, the faintest hint of a voice. Sometimes, when you were just about to close your eyes, you would’ve sworn that you could hear his voice for the briefest of moments before you drifted off, but you would always blame it on being sleep deprived.

 “No,” you said quietly. “I haven’t heard anything. He used to sing all the time, too. I would wake up to the sound of his voice, and it would carry me throughout each and every day. I know it sounds weird to say this about someone I don’t remember meeting, but I felt . . . connected to him, if that makes sense?”

 Beomgyu didn’t say anything, so you continued. “He’s actually the reason why I picked up the violin. I got so used to his voice, I would go around humming all day. I guess my mom got tired of hearing me, because soon after I started hearing him, my mom signed me up for violin lessons. And, well, now I’m here.”

 You looked over to see Beomgyu smiling softly, but his eyes didn’t meet yours. “Do you have any idea of who it might be?”

 You were quiet for a moment. The image of the boy from the hotel parking lot with his star-struck eyes and diamond smile came to your mind, as always.

 “No. But I have someone I hope it is.”

 You looked over at him again, and this time, his eyes met yours. The silvery light of the moon highlighted the right side of his face and the bridge of his nose, casting a stark shadow across the other side. He was neither smiling nor frowning as his eyes searched yours. What exactly he was looking for you couldn’t be sure of, however, you liked the eye contact well enough to let it go on for a moment longer before you cleared your throat, looking back towards the window.

 “Did you try calling Yeonjun again?”

 “Yep. No answer.”

 “Taehyun?”

 “Nothing.”

 “The professor?”

 “Didn’t pick up—I left a message though.”

 You sighed, allowing the back of your head to hit the wall behind you. “We’ll be stuck here all night at this rate.”

 “Well, now that you’ve had a little nap, we may as well use this time to be productive,” Beomgyu said, standing to his feet and stretching his arms above his head as he did so.

 You crossed your arms, raising a brow as you watched him pull his guitar out of the case. “What’s this? Choi Beomgyu taking initiative?”

 “Hey, we said we were starting over.”

 You laughed as he sat on the edge of the desk in front of where you were sitting on the floor. He pulled the strap over his shoulder and began tuning his guitar by ear, something you always struggled to do with your violin.

 “What are you doing?” You asked.

 He strummed through all the strings, nodding when he was satisfied with the sounds. Glancing down at you, he smiled. “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m going to show you the song I wrote.”

 Interest piqued, you sat up straighter and smiled back at him. “I was hoping that’s what you’d say.”

 He laughed, adjusting his position on the desk before his fingers found their place on the neck of the guitar. You listened attentively as he began to pick the first notes, watching the way his fingers moved deliberately across the frets, yet, his movements never lost their grace. At first, he kept his eyes focused on his hands. But as the song went on, his eyes slowly closed, and he played without seeing, relying solely on the sound of the notes he was creating and the feeling of the strings that pressed into his calloused fingertips.

 Awestruck would have been an understatement for the way you felt as you watched him play. The way he became one with the sounds he created, the way his wrist twisted to strum and how his fingertips slid across the length of the instrument as if it was the very thing they had been created to do. You were hypnotized, allowing the music to seep into your heart and make it thump against your chest like a caged bird begging to be set free.

 If you had to put a word to how he looked in that moment, “beautiful” was the closest you would be able to get.

 He opened his eyes as he strummed the last note, a gentle grin on his lips. You noticed how his eyes sparkled in the darkness, despite his back being towards the moonlight rather than his face.

 “What do you think?” He asked, his voice sounding sharp as it pierced through the thick silence that had settled over the room.

 “It was—”

 “It was real pretty, kid.”

 You yelped in surprise at the sudden voice, jumping up to your feet as Beomgyu practically fell off the desk, nearly dropping his guitar in the process. You helped steady him, and together, you looked towards the door to see that it was wide open, fluorescent light from the hallway spilling into the room as the janitor stood in the entry way, arms crossed over his chest as he blew a bubble with the gum in his mouth.

 “If you’re done serenading your girlfriend, would you mind leaving so I can clean up and go home? This building closed an hour ago, but if you both leave now I’ll keep quiet.”

 Your cheeks went hot, and you struggled to form words as Beomgyu scrambled to put his guitar back in its case. “Girl—girlfriend? No, we’re not—I mean, I’m not his—we just got stuck and—”

 “Thank you, sir. We’re really sorry.” Beomgyu cut you off as he picked up his guitar case with one hand and wrapped his free arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. You gasped, but were too stunned to do anything but follow Beomgyu’s lead as he pulled you out of the room.

 “What was that about?” You asked once the two of you had safely made it out of the building. “You were not serenading me.”

 Beomgyu shrugged, letting his arm fall from your shoulders. Your mouth fell open at his lack of a denial. “Choi Beomgyu! Stop messing around.”

 “Who said I was messing around?” He teased, winking at you as he began to walk towards his dorm building, which was on the other side of campus from yours.

 You scoffed but said nothing as you watched his back while he walked away from you, trying to piece together what had just happened.

 “See you tomorrow, Y/N!” He shouted, turning around as he walked so he could wave goodbye.

 You gave him a weak-hearted wave in return, pressing your hands against your flushed cheeks as you slowly began to tread back to your own dorm room.

 How strange it was that just that morning, you would have given almost anything to avoid seeing Beomgyu.

 But now, you found yourself counting down the minutes left until the next day so you could see him again.

 -

 WHEN YOU GOT BACK TO YOUR DORM FROM REHEARSAL THE NEXT EVENING, YOU HAD A TEXT.

 Beomgyu: I know we said we were starting over, but I can’t forget that I still owe you a coffee. Meet me at the library in 15?

 You felt like an idiot, but you couldn’t stop the grin from taking over your face. Slipping your shoes back on, you typed out a quick reply before slipping out the door.

 You: Make it 5. I’ll be waiting.

 When you arrived at the library, you were surprised to see that Beomgyu was already there. The line for coffee was very short, as most students had settled into their dorms for the night. Only a few stray overachievers and those that were desperately trying to cram for exams were there, and Beomgyu had claimed a place in line amongst them. He held his guitar in one hand, as per usual, and you wondered if there would ever come a time in which you would see him without it.

 “How is it that you demanded to meet me ten minutes earlier than I planned, and I still got here before you?” He asked once you had reached him.

 “First of all, I did not demand anything from you,” You said, pushing your fist against his shoulder. “Secondly, that is so unfair, because you know that your dorm is way closer to the library than mine is.”

 “Sounds like an excuse to me, but okay. Ah, it’s our turn.” He placed his hand on the small of your back and pulled you closer to the counter. Your stomach flipped, but for some reason, you didn’t mind.

 After the two of had gotten your coffees, Beomgyu told you to follow him up the stairs. You expected to stop at the second floor, but to your surprise, he kept leading you. He took you through a door in the back that you didn’t even know existed, where there was another flight of stairs. At the end of these stairs was another door. You stepped outside and found yourself on the rooftop, with a great view of the campus below.

 “Are you sure we’re allowed to be up here?” You asked.

 “Well, no. But I’ve come up here a lot and never gotten in trouble, so what’s the harm?”

 “That does not make me feel any better.”

 “Come on, Y/N.” He took your hand in his and brought you over to the wide ledge, big enough for the two of you to sit on without the fear of falling off. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

 You paused, eyes growing wide. He stared back at you as he hoisted himself up on the ledge. He took a sip of his coffee before asking, “Why are you staring at me like that?”

 You shook your head, setting your coffee beside of him before bringing yourself up to sit on the ledge yourself.

 “Nothing,” You said. “You just reminded me of someone.”

 “Ah.” He stared at you for a moment longer before he slipped his jacket off and wrapped it around your shoulders. You opened your mouth to protest, but he placed his finger against your parted lips, which was more than enough to shut you up.

 “Just accept an act of kindness, would you?” He said, zipping his jacket up over you. You watched him as he did so, noticing the way his chocolate eyes sparkled in the midst of the cloudy night.

 You swallowed, averting your gaze. “Thank you.”

 “You’re very welcome. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

 It was quiet then, but not in an uncomfortable way. You enjoyed sitting beside of him in the silence, watching the lights of campus below you, feeling the warmth from his jacket spread over your chilled skin.

 “Actually, Y/N, there’s something that’s been bothering me,” Beomgyu said, breaking the silence.

 You turned to face him, curious. “What is it?”

 For the first time since you had met him, Beomgyu looked nervous. He picked at the skin around his nails, doing everything he could to keep his eyes from meeting yours.

 “Remember how you asked me if I sang? When we were locked in the orchestra room?” His voice was a bit quieter than it had been before.

 “Yeah, you said you didn’t.”

 “Right. Well, that—that was a lie,” He blurted, seeming to regret his words the second they had left his mouth. “Well, not a blatant lie, because I don’t sing anymore. But I used to.”

 You were a bit confused, but seeing how nervous he was, you decided not to ask him why he would lie about such a seemingly trivial topic.

 “What made you stop?” You asked carefully, not wanting to upset him.

 He hesitated, wringing his hands together. After taking a deep breath, he spoke again.

 “My father and I used to sing together,” He began. “I taught myself how to play the guitar, but he was the one who taught me how to sing. He loved to sing, more than anything else, and he always told me that I had a brilliant voice. He said it would be a shame to keep such a voice to myself.”

 He smiled fondly as he spoke of his father, and you couldn’t help but smile as well. The joy slowly faded from his expression, however, as he began to speak again.

 “I lost him two years ago,” He said quietly, voice thick with emotions that caused your heart to clench. “He was in a bad car accident. I was doing really well here, in vocals and guitar. But when I lost him, I just . . . I couldn’t sing anymore. I tried, I really did. I just couldn’t do it.”

 “Oh, Beomgyu,” You whispered, gently placing your hand over his trembling one.

 “It’s pathetic, isn’t it?” He sniffed, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “Singing was the one thing he wanted me to do, and now that he’s gone, I’m failing at it.”

 “No, Beomgyu,” You said, your voice firm as you squeezed his hand. “It’s not pathetic at all. You’re doing the best you can, and you’re still here. And most importantly, you tried. That’s what matters.”

 He brought his eyes back to yours then, glistening with moisture in the moonless, starless night. He smiled at you then, and you smiled back.

 “Y/N.”

 “Hm?”

 “Have I told you yet that you’re really, really beautiful?”

 Your breath caught in your throat, and you froze, feeling the blood rush to your cheeks. You were frozen for a moment before you scoffed, pulling your hand away from his and tucking it into your lap.

 “I thought you were going to start being more serious,” You mumbled, refusing to look at him. “Stop messing around.”

 Then, he moved closer to you, placing one arm behind you while he brought the other to rest against your cheek, gently turning your face towards his. He leaned in, so close that his breath brushed against your skin. He smelled of citrus and vanilla, and you found yourself leaning closer to him.

 He glanced at your lips, then met your eyes once again.

 “What makes you think I’m not being serious?”

 His lips were soft when they pressed against yours, and it felt as though your heart would burst right out of your chest. You allowed your eyes to fall shut as he gently moved his mouth against yours, slowly tucking a piece of hair behind your ear as he did so, before allowing his fingers to gently trace their way along your cheek, then your jaw, until he rested his hand against your neck, pulling you a tiny bit closer to him.

 He broke the kiss for a fleeting moment, just to open his eyes so he could look into yours. You liked the flecks of light that beamed in his irises, as though his eyes were made of starlight. He smiled, allowing his nose to brush against yours as his eyes moved back down to your lips. Once again, he closed the distance between you, capturing your lips with his for the second time. He tasted like coffee and cheap cherry chap-stick—and odd combination, but you didn’t mind as you brought your arms around his neck and shifted closer to him, twisting your head to the side as you moved your lips in time with his.

 The moment was unexpected, to say the least. But perhaps that was what made it feel that much more magical.

 At least, it was magical until you felt scalding hot liquid splash all over the side of your leg, seeping through the fabric of your jeans to burn your skin.

 You gasped against Beomgyu’s lips before pulling away, staring wide eyed at your jeans that were now stained with coffee. Your cup, which had been sitting between the two of you, was now knocked on its side, the contents drained.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Beomgyu said frantically. His lips were shining from the aftermath of your kiss, his freckled cheeks and nose red as a cherry. He gently pressed his hands against your leg, pulling them back when you winced from the impact. “Oh god—I’m sorry, I forgot that it was there and I was leaning in and I knocked it over and—”

 You laughed at how flustered he had become, amused by this side of him that you hadn’t seen before. You grabbed his face and pulled him towards you, pressing your lips against his in a swift kiss, effectively shutting him up.

 “It’s okay, Beomgyu,” You said once you pulled away, letting your hands fall from his face. “I guess you just owe me another coffee.”

 The goofy lopsided grin you had grown accustomed to took place of the frightened expression he had worn just moments before. He hopped off the ledge, extending his hand towards you to help you down.

 “Come on, partner. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

 -

 IT WAS THE DAY OF THE OPEN HOUSE, AND YOU WERE SLIGHTLY UNNERVED BY HOW WELL THINGS WERE GOING.

 You had hoped that everything would go smoothly. The past few weeks, you had spent all your time and energy making sure that the event would be as close to perfect as possible.

 Well, you had also spent a bit of time with Beomgyu, but only when you had the time to spare, of course.

 The performers were all setting up; the drama department was working on setting up the stage props, as they would be going first, and they were busy rehearsing with the orchestra for how they could effectively move the props to make room for the instruments in a timely fashion. Yeonjun was rushing about, directing them with the grace and efficiency only he could pull off.

 Everything was going perfectly. You should have just been happy about that, but for some reason, it felt as though you were just waiting for something to go terribly wrong.

 “Y/N.” You turned at the sound of Beomgyu’s voice, smiling as he walked towards you. He was dressed in a white button up shirt that he tucked into a pair of black jeans. His sleeves were pushed up a bit, exposing his forearms.

 “Everything okay?” You asked once he had reached you. You glanced at the members of the band, who were talking in hushed voices right behind Beomgyu. Your eyes narrowed when you noticed that something was amiss. “Where’s Soobin? Is he on his way?”

 Beomgyu sighed, running a hand through his already messy curls. “That’s what I was coming to talk to you about. He’s sick—he won’t be able to make it. I just got a text from him.”

 You blinked slowly, trying to process what you had just been told. Soobin was the main vocalist for the band. Without him, or someone to fill his position, there would be no performance.

 You quickly walked over to the band, desperately trying to think of something to fix the situation, and Beomgyu was following right behind you.

 “Can any of you do lead vocals in Soobin’s place?” You asked.

 “No,” the main guitarist said, looking just as stressed out as you were. “We’d have to change the entire key for it to fit my range, and even if we had time to do that—which we don’t—we wouldn’t have any backup vocals.”

 You pinched the bridge of your nose, squeezing your eyes shut. “There’s got to be something we can do to replace him. We can’t just take the band performance out.”

 “How about Beomgyu?”

 Your eyes flew open at the sound of Yeonjun’s voice, and you whirled around to see him standing behind you.

“When did you get there?” You asked.

 “A minute or so ago,” He said, striding forward so that he stood on the other side of you. “But seriously, everyone knows Beomgyu can sing. He used to do it all the time. Why not have him take Soobin’s place?”

 “It would make sense,” the guitarist said, his face lighting up with a glint of hope. “He’s been here for all the practices—I mean, he even wrote the song!”

 You turned your eyes towards Beomgyu, worry overtaking you in an instant when you saw his expression. All the color had drained from his face, his lips pulled between his teeth. His hands were trembling, and he refused to meet your gaze.

 “Beomgyu,” You said quietly, taking his shaky hand in your steady one. “You don’t have to. We can figure something else out—”

 “I’ll think about it,” He said, eyes finally finding yours. He did his best to force a smile, but it was so strained, your worry only grew at the sight. “Just . . . can you give me a little while?”

 You nodded, squeezing his hand. “Of course.”

 He slipped away from you then, disappearing behind the stage. Your eyes followed him until you couldn’t see him any longer, worry creasing your brows.

 “What was that about?” Yeonjun asked, stepping a bit closer to you. “I understand not wanting to force anyone to do something last minute, but we don’t really have many options.”

 “There’s more to it than that,” You said quietly. “Just trust me, okay? And if he says he can’t do it, he can’t. We are not going to force him to do this.”

 Yeonjun still looked confused, but he simply shrugged. “Whatever you say, captain. But just so you know, if he can’t do it, you’re gonna be the one singing in Soobin’s place. And trust me, no one wants to hear that.”

 You fought the urge to flip him off as he walked away, wondering why on earth you still kept him around as your best friend.

 The rest of the preparations went on, and soon, the audience had begun to fill the auditorium. You hadn’t seen Beomgyu since that moment during rehearsals, and you were beginning to grow worried.

 You stood in the right wing of the stage as the show began with the drama department. You tried to focus on the performance—it was amazing, of course, especially since Yeonjun played a lead role in the scene they had chosen. Everyone knew he was an amazing actor. However, rather than being able to enjoy the show, you could only think about where Beomgyu was and wonder if he was doing alright, your stomach twisting itself into knots as the seconds ticked by.

 By the time the drama students were finished, the audience standing to clap for their flawless performance, you had bitten your nails down to nubs as you grew increasingly worried. Yeonjun rushed over to you when he left the stage, smiling widely as he stretched his arms out to his sides. “How’d we do?”

 “Hm?” You snapped out of your daze, shaking your head as you gave him two thumbs up. “Oh—wonderful. You guys were great. Hey, will you make sure everything goes well with the orchestra? I have to go find Beomgyu.”

 “Well why don’t you stay here and I’ll go find him—”

 “Nope, I’ve got it! Thanks best friend, you’re the greatest!” You gave him a quick hug before he could say anything else, quickly rushing out of the auditorium. You made your way down a few hallways, taking a couple of turns until you had reached one of the dressing rooms. You knew this was where Beomgyu had been getting ready because his guitar case was propped against the wall outside of it, so you hoped he was still inside.

 You knocked on the door. “Beomgyu? Are you in there?”

 It was silent, but you heard someone sniffle from behind the door. You sighed, leaning against the wood. “You don’t have to say anything, okay? But just hear me out.”

 There was no response, but you could have sworn you felt someone leaning against the door from the other side.

 “I know you may feel like you have to pressure yourself to do this, but you don’t,” You said gently. “Nobody is going to be disappointed if you can’t get up there to sing. Not me, not Yeonjun, not the band.”

 You paused, biting your lip before you continued. “Your father wouldn’t be upset either, Beomgyu. The fact that you’re willing to even think about doing something this hard just to help out shows just how great of a person you are. He would be so, so proud of you. I’m proud of you, too. Whether or not you get up there and sing tonight, I’m proud of you. Okay?”

 You stayed there, waiting in silence for a moment longer before you pushed away from the door, walking back towards the auditorium.

 The orchestra was almost finished with their set by the time you returned to the wing. Yeonjun and the band were waiting with anticipation when you returned, eyes wide and searching behind you, probably hoping that Beomgyu was close behind.

 “Is he coming?” Yeonjun asked.

 You sighed, shaking your head slowly. “I don’t think so. We’ll just have to call off the band’s performance, but it’ll be okay—”

 “That won’t be necessary.”

 You turned at the sound of Beomgyu’s voice, unable to help the big smile that overtook your face. You hurried towards him, grabbing both his hands in your own.

 “Are you sure?” You asked. “You know you don’t have to—”

 “I know I don’t,” he said with a smile. “But I want to.”

 He leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss against your forehead. “Thank you. For everything.”

 He went up to talk to the band after that, leaving you a blushing mess. The orchestra had just finished their set and were busy making way for the band. Yeonjun walked to your side as Beomgyu and the rest of the band took their places on the stage.

 “Did he just kiss you?” Your best friend asked. For some reason, he didn’t sound surprised.

 Dumbfounded, you brought your hand to your forehead and nodded, unable to speak. Yeonjun laughed at you, causing you to snap out of your daze so you could punch him lightly in the shoulder.

 Once the band had finished getting ready, Beomgyu cleared his throat, tapping the mic before leaning forward to speak into it.

 “Hello everyone, thanks for coming out tonight. My name is Choi Beomgyu, and these lovely people surrounding me are some of the many talented musicians in our music department.” He paused when the audience clapped, waiting until the applause died down before he spoke again. “To wrap up this showcase, we’ll be performing a song I wrote myself. I wrote this about someone I met a long, long time ago.”

 He turned his head to the side then, making eye contact with you from the stage. He smiled, not taking his gaze away from yours. He looked heavenly in the light cast from the spotlight, strands of his black hair seeming to turn silver beneath the glow, his golden skin shining brighter than ever. You were sure that if you were close enough, you would see the star-like sparkles in his eyes that you had grown to adore.

 “I hope she remembers me, even after all this time.”

 “Is he talking about you?” Yeonjun whispered into your ear, noticing the direction of Beomgyu’s stare. “You guys just met like, a month ago.”

 You were just as confused as your best friend, so in response, you simply shrugged, unsure of what was going on. He was definitely talking to you, but you had no idea what he was referring to.

 “I hope she remembers me, even after all this time.”

 You racked your brain, trying desperately to think of what he could mean. Had you met him before? Did he remember you from somewhere, from a memory that had somehow slipped your mind?

 The music began to play, and you took a step closer to the stage, eyes narrowed, ready to focus on the lyrics, wanting more than anything to remember what Beomgyu was talking about.

 “In moments like those, when tears fill your eyes, hold my hand tight. Should we run away?”

 Your eyes went wide. You stumbled back, reaching up to hold your head in your hands.

 “Y/N?” Yeonjun’s voice was distant, overpowered by the sound of the honey sweet voice that filled the air. “Y/N, what’s wrong?”

 You gasped, hands tangling in your hair as the singing continued.

 “Be my forever, call my name. Run away, run away, run away with me.”

 Your head was ringing. Not only were these words the same ones you had heard in your head the night you were locked in the classroom with Beomgyu, but the voice—Beomgyu’s voice—was the same one you had heard day and night while growing up.

 It was your soulmates voice.

 You knew it was, not just because of the lyrics or the familiarity of the voice. You knew it was your soulmate because you didn’t just hear the words and the notes of the song, you felt them. Every inch of your being felt as though it had been struck by lightning. The voice filled up all of your senses, overpowering you in the most beautiful way imaginable.

 But it was too much. His voice coming through the loudspeakers paired with it ringing inside your head built up so much pressure that it caused your vision to blur. You quickly stumbled out of the auditorium, fumbling your way through the front doors that led outside.

 You sat down on the pavement, taking deep breaths as your mind began to calm down. No longer overwhelmed by all that was going on around you, you closed your eyes, listening to Beomgyu’s voice as it filled your mind.

 “Don’t wanna stay, now we can go. Take me now to the magic named ‘us.’”

 With those words, the voice died down, and you were surrounded by silence.

 You simply sat there for several moments, your eyes remaining closed as you tried to understand everything that had just happened to you.

 Beomgyu was your soulmate.

 Beomgyu was your soulmate, and he was alive.

 Bit by bit, you started to piece things together. The night of your thirteenth birthday, the day before you heard his voice for the first time. You had met the boy with sparkling eyes and a lopsided grin in the hotel parking lot. He had offered you his coat, and then his hand.

 “I hope she remembers me,” Beomgyu had said.

 You smiled to yourself, placing your hand over your heart as it beat fiercely against your chest.

 “Yes, Beomgyu. I do remember you.”

 “Y/N!”

 Your eyes flew open at the sound of the door being thrown open behind you. You turned to see Beomgyu barreling towards you, practically collapsing to the ground in front of you. He took your face in his hands, eyes frantically searching yours.

 “Are you okay?” He asked, his fingers gently running along the length of your cheeks.

 You nodded, smiling even though tears began to pool in your eyes. “Beomgyu,” You said quietly, lifting your hands to hold his wrists. “You knew, didn’t you?”

 “Knew what?”

 “That you’re my soulmate.”

 He paused, the worry in his face slowly being replaced by a wide, sparkling smile.

 “So you finally figured it out, huh?” He said, brushing a strand of your hair back behind your ear. “If you didn’t figure it out after tonight, I wasn’t sure how else I was supposed to show you.”

 You laughed, a tear slipping down your cheek as you tightened your grip on his wrists. His expression changed once again, brows knit with concern. “Are—are you crying? What’s wrong?”

 “No, nothing, it’s fine,” You assured him, resting your forehead against his. “I’m just happy. I’m so, so happy, Beomgyu.”

 He sighed with relief, wrapping his arms around you in a hug, pulling you snugly into his chest. His chin rested on top of your head as you slipped your arms around his middle, pulling him even closer than he already was.

 “I was a little worried that you’d be disappointed when you found out it was me,” He said with a light laugh.

 You shook your head against his chest, snuggling even closer to him. “Of course not. You’re exactly who I hoped it would be, Choi Beomgyu.”

 The two of you stayed like that for a bit longer before Beomgyu pulled away and stood up in front of you.

 The boy with stars for eyes and a smile that outshone the moon stretched his hand out towards you, fingers shaking from the cold, cheeks flushed from your embrace.

 “Should we run away?” He asked.

 This time, you placed your hand in his and let him pull you to your feet.

[dreamescapeswriting]

A Night To Remember ~ Bang Chan [Request]

WORD COUNT: 6.7K

GENRE: Angst with a happy ending

PAIRING: Bang Chan x Nurse!Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: Mentions of self deprecation, I hope this is okay I know you asked for an idol to say something but bissshhhh I’m a jyp nation stan I would rip my own heart out, so I hope this is okay!!!

As a nurse, you were used to going to different gala events occasionally throughout the year. It was one thing medical school hadn't prepared you for, meeting everyone that technically paid your wages. Your boss would throw them so that the benefactors of the hospital that you worked in could get to know the people their money was going to. The hospital also through functions in order to raise money for other things benefactors couldn't help with. None of the events you'd been to was as extravagant as the gala that JYP was hosting for a charity event but it was still a gala nonetheless. The gala was there to raise money for different charities, people could bid on different things like a night with different Idols. A song was written by a specific idol if they bid high enough on it and so on and so forth. Chan had told you about this event months ago wanting to mentally prepare you for the night and allow you to get a dress in time and he was excited about it as well. When he was a trainee he'd helped out at the Gala's before but he'd never gotten to attend one until now which made you all the more nervous about what you looked like since you were his plus one. 

"Are you sure this is okay?" You asked your best friend - Kayla - through the webcam as you ran your hands down the fabric of your dress waiting anxiously for her opinion, she'd been with you when you bought it but it didn't mean she liked it. The dress was perfect for this kind of event but that didn't make you feel any less insecure about it all, you were going to be surrounded by insanely beautiful people. All of them prettier than the next, not to mention how fit they were so it was safe to say you felt like you were going to stick out like a sore thumb. Your friend shook her head at you taking in the sight of the light sky blue tulle, v-neck gown with its A-line silhouette dress, it was breathtaking to see you in it again. The sleeveless dress showing off your arms perfectly and the applique embellishment made it look fancy but not too fancy.

"Y/n I told you when you bought it how nice it was-" You cut her off as soon as she said the word nice, to you that meant it wasn't nice at all.

"Yes! Nice! I don't want nice, I have to look great. C-Chan is going to be surrounded by all of these beautiful people and if I don't match up I'm going to-" You stopped talking when you heard the front door to your apartment open and close followed by the sounds of Chan coming in from work. Kayla smirked as soon as she saw the look on your face, she knew that meant Chan was home and he hadn't seen what you were wearing yet so you had to prepare yourself for it.

"Go, you look fabulous." She ushered you off the call as she shook her head at you before hanging up. No matter what she said to you she knew there was nothing she could say to make you feel less insecure about it.

"Chris?" You called out down the stairs as you heard him moving around, probably putting everything from work away before coming up to you. You were looking around the corner of the stairs as you hid your body so he couldn't see you,

"Yeah?" His head peered around the corner of the staircase and you smiled at him happily. It felt good to see his big eye staring back at you after not seeing him all day. As soon as he saw the way you were hiding your body he knew what you were doing and chuckled to himself softly, 

"Are you in the dress? The dress you've been hiding from me for the last month and a half?" He smirked as soon as he saw you nodding your head and practically began to sprint up the staircase to come and see you. He'd been dying to see you in it since the moment you told him you found the perfect outfit you squealed hiding in the bedroom again. The main reason you'd hidden the dress from Chan was that you wanted it to be a surprise for him to see on the night that and you were nervous about what he would think of it. The bedroom door swung open and Chan stood there for a second just taking in the sight of you. 

"Babe..." He breathed out as soon as he saw you standing there, you were doing your best to look as good as possible since you weren't dolled up yet or had the finished look on.

"I-I'm not finished yet, I still have to put on my makeup and do my hair but then I'll be ready by the time you are." You reassured him as you did a small turn in the dress giving him a full look at the dress. Chan's mouth was hanging open just a little as he continued to take in every angle of the dress you were wearing, struggling to find the right words to say as he stared at you. For someone who often wrote songs, he was finding it hard to speak at the minute which made you more nervous about his thoughts on it all.

"G-Go shower," You giggled as he continued to stare, you pushed him into the bathroom before sitting down at the vanity in your shared bedroom staring at yourself in the mirror. Trying not to let your insecure mind take over and run wild with thoughts you knew couldn't be true. He hates what you're wearing you know. Did you see the look on his face? He's never been more disgusted by you then he is right now and he's going to be so embarrassed at the party tonight. You look awful.

As you got ready your mind kept lingering back to the look he'd given you when he first saw you in the gown made you anxious about it, you couldn't quite read what it meant. The thoughts in your head continued to race about how awful you look and then going over the look on Chan's face. Overanalysing every last interaction you had with him before he went into the shower. You couldn't decide if it was a good or a bad stare that he'd been giving you, then the way his voice sounded when he called you "babe..." It felt as though he was embarrassed about what you were wearing and didn't know how to tell you. 

"Y/n?" Chan called out for the third time in a row as he tried to gain your attention but you were lost in your own space, you turned to look over your shoulder at Chan who was fully dressed in his tux, struggling to do up the cuff links on his shirt.

"Help?" He whimpered out as he continued to struggle with them, you got up without a word and buttoned up the cuff links which were shaped as the doodle he always drew. You'd gotten them custom made for Christmas last year never thinking he would wear them but as a small gag gift. 

"You're in your own world again, what's going on in that gorgeous brain of yours?" Chan questioned when he noticed you hadn't spoken in a while, you shook your head giving him the biggest convincing smile you could manage not wanting to ruin the evening with your head. 

"Nothing. Can you do my choker up for me?" You slid the small diamond choker into his hands and he turned you around, doing up the small necklace before he placed a soft and gentle kiss on the back of your neck. 

"We'll be late, come on," He tapped your shoulder softly as he headed out of the bedroom and down the staircase, the car that was picking you up for the night was waiting outside with the rest of the boys and their dates inside. Thoughts came rushing back to you as you thought about how great they were all going to look, all of them slimmer than you and probably more beautiful too. You'd only met Changbin's date before and never the rest, 

"Baby? Come on, they're waiting." Chan rushed you as he saw you standing still at the door he was already near the car when he noticed you weren't behind him. He frowned to himself before going back to your side and linking your arms together so you didn't have to walk alone. 

"I don't want to be late, I have some last-minute things to set up." He mumbled into your ear pressing a soft kiss against your head as he walked with you towards the car opening the door so you could get in beside Felix and his date who was smiling and introducing herself but all you could see was how gorgeous she looked in comparison to you.

"Y/n," You whispered as she reached out to shake your hand, then you began introducing yourself to everyone else the boys were with and went back to sitting in silence. Your mind kicking you in the head for not dressing up more. All of them looked expensive tonight and fully glammed out compared to you, you were beginning to feel like you were underdressed of the occasion. 

"I had my makeup and hair done by one of the stylists, Hannie arranged it all for me. Who did yours?" Jisung's date questioned you as she looked at you, you'd already forgotten her name after being in the car for five minutes which you felt bad about but couldn't help. 

"O-oh I did it, I did my own hair and makeup," You said proudly as you smiled at her but the look on her face wasn't one of being impressed she just glanced you up and down while nodding and humming to herself. 

"It's...lovely, you look good." Good. You could tell by the way she said the word that she didn't mean it at all. Maybe that's what they were all thinking, you sank back against the seat as you felt more eyes on you but you tried to ignore it turning to look at your boyfriend but he was busy. Chan was lost in conversation with Changbin about something they were auctioning off so you couldn't drop into a conversation with him about anything so you were forced to let your brain overthink once again. Look at how much better they look, far more expensive than this piece of fabric you're wearing and look at Chan. Not even paying attention to you, instead, he's talking to Changbin and staring at Lila, Lila and Changbin look cute together. Your dress is tacky. Your makeup is awful, you saw the way they all looked at you, you know it's true. 

Your mind continued to go on throughout the rest of the journey making you imagine how great the others were going to turn out in the press photos while yours wouldn't look good at all. As you went to get out of the car Chan's hand on your wrist stopped you,

"Why are we not getting out?" You asked softly as he stopped you from getting out after the rest of them had already left, he reached across and shut the door behind them.

"I have something to do first," He mumbled as he tapped on the glass that separated the driver from the rest of the limo, you frowned at him as the car began to move you stared out of the window. The limo was moving around the back of the building until you reached a back entrance to the Four Season's hotel away from where every person and camera could potentially see you together. This is what it used to be like when you first started dating, taking back entrances and avoiding being spotted together but that was over now. Your relationship had been out for a year and most of STAY loved you and how happy you seemed to make Chan.

"Come on," He took your hand in his as he hurried you into the building after getting out of the car, you picked up the bottom of your dress not wanting to stand in any of the puddles that were in the back ally behind the hotel. 

"Why are we going through the back?" You questioned laughing softly thinking it was just like old times but Chan didn't seem to laugh.

"I have something to do, go and get a drink at the bar." He told you as he walked you into a small room where a group of people were all standing around and waiting, one man on the bar who looked bored. It didn't look like they were apart of the JYP gala so you turned to check if Chan had the right room,

"Chan?" You called out but he was already out of the room before you had a chance to say anything to him the door was already shut in your face and an elderly lady smiled as she walked over to you. 

"You look very beautiful dear," You smiled back at her, thanking her as you looked around the room trying to figure out why you were left back here while Chan walked off to do whatever it was he was doing. 

"Are you here for the charity gala?" You questioned kindly as you both walked over to the bar to get a drink together, you held onto her arm being careful she didn't fall and break a hip. 

An hour later Chan still hadn't come back to see you and the elderly lady you'd been talking with was taken away and then slowly one by one the room began to empty until it was just you sitting at a table alone. Even the man that had been serving at the bar left to go and do something else. You'd called and text Chan over 12 times asking what was happening but there was no response from him, 

"If he didn't want me to come why invite me?" You mumbled to yourself as you pushed your phone back into your bag trying not to let your brain overwork itself. Playing around with one of the coasters as you tried to entertain yourself for a while

"Y/n?" You dropped the coaster and turned around when you heard a familiar voice call out your name, standing by the door was Brian, Young K, from day6. He frowned when he saw you sitting alone at the table when not too long ago he'd just passed by Chan who was in the main function room alone. He glanced inside of the room wondering why you were in there alone thinking maybe you'd had a fight or you were just trying to get some air.

"Why are you in here?" He nodded for you to come out so you followed him out and into the hallway immediately not wanting to be cramped up in there all night. 

"Chan said he had something to do and to wait for him," You felt a pit begin to grow in the bottom of your stomach as you read the look across Young K's face. It was clear he was trying to come up with some kind of lie to tell you, 

"I just saw him, he told me to come and get you, come on." You could tell it was a lie but you went along with it anyway not wanting to throw a wrench in his evening. You just followed Brian out into the main area and gasping as you looked around at everything in the room, it was more impressive than you could have imagined. The entire hall looked incredible, it was covered in expensive-looking decorations, white table cloths everywhere and everyone looked like they belonged there in huge dresses, ball gowns and suits. Making you feel more out of place than before since you were only in a simple dress for this kind of thing, 

"He's over here," You followed behind Brian who was trying to push through the crowds of people everyone talking over one another as they tried to hear each other over the music. 

"Chan, I brought Y/n, like you asked me too." The tone of voice from Brian made it clear that Chan hadn't asked him to come and get you at all and was trying to make Chan go along with it. You came out from standing behind Brian and smiled at Chan who was standing with Sana and Mina both of them looking stunning in their dresses. Each of them wearing white princess silhouette gowns with matching necklaces around their necks. They looked amazing but what else was new? They always looked breathtakingly beautiful.

"Hi babe, thanks Brian I owe you one." The two of them exchanged looks and you stared down at the ground trying not to feel self-conscious in front of the two most attractive girls you knew in the building.

"You guys look insanely beautiful," You complimented when you finally got the courage to speak to them, Sana went to thank you when Chan shook his head at you, 

"Babe don't. Don't be weird," Your chest tensed as your heart clenched in on itself on what Chan had said to you so you went back to staring at the floor and not wanting to say anything to them in case Chan said it was weird again.  

"Alone again?" Brian chuckled as he came up behind you at the bar, you smiled weakly at him as you glanced over at Chan who was still standing with Mina and Sana as they engaged in conversation again. Since you'd joint them it had been an awkward and dulling silence but the moment you left them it was back to talking with one another.

"Any idea why they're in matching necklaces and almost identical outfits?" Brian looked back over at the girls and then pointed out the rest of the twice members that were in the same kind of outfits, 

"They're being auctioned off to other idols and celebrities for a day out. Did Chan not tell you any of this?" You shook your head as you glanced around the room at everyone,

"He told me there would be auctions but not what was up for auction," You shrugged your shoulders passing it off as something Chan forgot to mention to you, 

"Chan and Changbin have produced some songs that are up for grabs, the boys are up for auction as well as me-" He flashed the number that was on his tie '345' and then smiled as he went back to explaining. 

"People will get the chance to bid on us for days out, meals we'll pay for and such. All the money going to the charities of tonight's event." As he explained everything the drinks you'd ordered were placed down in front of you and He paid for the drinks before you could making you sigh at him you hated whenever someone would pay for you.

"Gotta be quicker than that to pay," He nudged you playfully as he helped you carry the drinks over to Chan who was watching you both closely wondering what it was you were talking about. 

"You should bid on me tonight, I've seen who wants to and I would much rather you have me for a day than someone them." He teased placing the drinks down onto the table while Chan eyed you up carefully again as he tried to make out what was making you laugh. 

"What's so funny?" He questioned when he heard your small giggle leave your throat, 

"Brian wanting me to bid on him-" You tried to explain but Chan cut you off quickly,

"Young K." Chan corrected you as he heard you call him Brian but Brian didn't mind what he was called, it just for joke purposes when he would yell out that he didn't know who Brian was.

"It's okay Chan, she can call me whatever she wants." Brian tried to laugh it off but it was clear Chan didn't find any of what was happening funny so you stayed silent on the matter and sipped on your drink. 

"Y/n won't be bidding on anything tonight anyway," You frowned as Chan spoke on your behalf and you shook your head you'd made sure to pack your purse for the sole purpose of bidding on things. 

"Why not?" You questioned as you looked to him for an answer, 

"You don't need to." He mumbled as he turned to look at Chanbin who was calling his name from another part of the room. 

"I have to go on stage to be auctioned off. Stay here. Don't go anywhere." His voice was stern so you just obeyed him not wanting to test him when he seemed he was already in a bad mood for whatever reason tonight. You stayed by the table watching over his drinks and the girls as they walked away to go and get ready for their stage time. 

"I have to go as well, cheer up. Bid on whatever you want. Don't let grumpy pants put you in a bad mood." Brian winked at you before leaving to go and join the rest of the guys that were lining up. JYP already standing on the stage clutching a microphone as he announced what was going to happen and how people were supposed to bid on what or who they wanted. Writing down the number of what they wanted on a form and placing their highest bid on the sheet of paper before disclosing it into the boxes at the bars. At the end of the night, the winners would be announced in front of everyone and what they had won. 

"Fuck it." You whispered to yourself going over to the bar again as you began writing down the number and how much you wanted to bid on. 

"Having fun?" You turned to see the same elderly lady from earlier standing at the bar with you and you smiled at her,

"Lots. Are you?" She nodded over at someone in the crowd and told you that her son was being very nice to her after leaving her in the waiting room for so long.  

"Who are you with?" She questioned as she wrote down who she was bidding on before slipping it into the box, 

"My boyfriend, Chan from erm Stray kids." You pointed at Chan who was standing on the stage and she smiled at you rubbing your arms softly,

"Very cute, I can't wait to see the press images of you together. Those are always my favourite, and then the photo booth ones from inside the entrance hall...." Your heart sank as you realised there would be no photographs of you and Chan together tonight and then your head convinced you it was because he hated the way you looked in the dress you were wearing. That being the only explanation for sending you through the back entrance tonight instead of the main one where everyone else had gone and then leaving you in the "waiting room". 

"Y-Yeah, I can't wait to see them." You lied as you excused yourself back to your table to wait for Chan to come back and get his drinks. 

He never went back to the table he was the social butterfly he always was going over to different people in the room and talking with them while he avoided your direction altogether. You didn't blame him though, you loved how much he got along with everyone he met but you just wished he would come and see you for a while.

"Can I clean up for you?" A young waiter asked as he came over to the table, you recognised him as one of the trainees and you shook your head at him.

"No, it's okay. Chan will be over soon." At least you hoped he would be but the longer you stood there the less likely it seemed to be as he kept getting further and further away from you. The moment you saw him getting further away you sighed to yourself,

"A-Actually, just clean it up." You whispered to the trainee before heading in the direction of where the toilet signs were wanting to freshen yourself up a little before you went to ask Chan to go to the photo booth together. You at least wanted something good to come out of tonight. A small photo of you both together to go on your wall back home, it would be cute.

"I mean did you say her dress? Looks like she got it at a discount store," You heard Lila's voice fill the women's bathroom followed by some girly giggles as people followed her into the room. You looked at the door of the toilet booth you were sitting in and bit down on your lip, you were about to leave when they had walked into the room. Mentally thanking yourself for not going out when you wanted to.

"Lila! That's Chan's girlfriend you can't say things like that," You knew that that was Felix's girlfriend trying to defend you but it didn't work since Lila only threw back another comment about you. 

"I'm being nice but not telling her to her face. I mean we all went all out. The least she could have done was dress up nice, why do you think Chan made them go around the back?" She started sniggering to herself and the girls joined in, 

"He doesn't want to be seen with her in that tacky looking dress," She started laughing harder and your heart sank as she confirmed your fears about Chan forcing you to enter through the back entrance.

"I heard he was going to leave her in the waiting room all night with the elderly ones, the only reason she's come out is that Young K found her and felt sorry for her," Tears began to well up in your eyes as you heard them speak about you as though you were nothing. 

"What does she do again?" Jisung's girlfriend asked as she applied lipstick onto her lips passing the colour over to someone else as they all checked themselves out. 

"Apart from clinging onto Chan and live off of his money?" Someone laughed loudly and you rolled your head back against the door wanting nothing more than for them all to leave the room so you could get out in one piece. The back exit of the hotel looking more and more attractive as the seconds ticked by.

"She's a nurse, that's why they're so good together cause they understand how busy the other one gets." Someone you didn't recognise said to them in a softer tone trying to get them to stop being so mean but the rest of the girls all scoffed. 

"Whatever. The least she could have done is tried to look presentable." The doors all shut behind them and you could have sunk down onto the floor in a pool of tears but you stopped yourself, coming out of the stall to look at yourself in the mirror. They were right, why would Chan want you to go around the front when you were dressed like this. You cleaned your hands before heading out into the hall bumping straight into Lila and the girls who all stared at you in horror as they realised you'd heard everything they'd been saying in there and then Lila smirked shrugging her shoulders when you met her gaze. 

"E-Excuse me," You mumbled pushing yourself out of their way and heading towards the main doors wanting to leave when cameras began flashing. The girls all began to laugh as you backed away from the doors going into the main function room to find a way back out. 

"I know, it looks awful. I tried to tell her but I didn't know how to so I just stayed silent." Chan was standing in front of you talking to Jisung and Felix and you felt your heart clench even more than it did when you were trapped in the bathroom. Even your own boyfriend thought you looked awful, everything confirming for you that it was the reason he'd taken you through the back and tried to leave you there for the night. 

"I swear if it wasn't for you guys I wouldn't have come, it's so embarrassing." He let out a breathy chuckle not noticing the look he was getting from Felix when he spotted you behind him but you just walked away in silence keeping your head down as you tried to find the fastest route out of there.

"Y/n? Where are you going their about to announce some of the winners." Brian said as he noticed you heading towards the back door of the room your hand resting on the door as you stopped to speak to him so you didn't seem rude since he'd been the kindest to you all night.

"H-Home, not feeling too great." You lied as you looked at him, Chan watching from behind as he noticed that you were alone with Brian again. Jealously bubbling inside of him as he made his way over to you. Lila and her friends all gathered at the bar to start watching smirking at one another at what was about to unfold in front of them. 

"I'll walk you out, come on." Brian nodded over to the front entrance again and you shook your head fear rising in you at the thought of going out of the main doors. 

"I-I'll go out the back. I wouldn't want to risk embarrassing someone with how awful I look tonight." Brian frowned watching you walk out of the door as he tried to figure out what you meant by all of that.

"Chan what did-" He stopped trying to ask what you meant when Chan stormed out of the room after you, not saying anything to anyone as he just left the venue. 

"Leave me alone," You mumbled to Chan as he tried to convince you to talk to him for the 100th time in a row, you'd gotten into the same cab since he left not long after you and demanded you talk to him but you couldn't. You didn't trust yourself not to cry in front of him in the taxi ride and now you were home all you wanted to do was get out of the dress and sleep for a week, never to be seen again. Along with burning the dress the moment you had the chance to. 

"Y/n, we have to talk about this! What is wrong with you tonight?" He questioned but you kicked off your heels and continued walking up the staircase towards the bedroom, taking out the earrings and putting them into the jewellery box on the vanity. You ignored his question not wanting to get into it but he just kept pushing you for answers.

"You've been in an awful mood all night, what's your problem?!" He questioned once he saw you struggling to undo the zip on the back of your dress. Your arms fell down in defeat as he had the nerve to tell you that you were the one in the bad mood, 

"I've been in a bad mood?" You questioned as you stared at him dumbfounded that he was accusing you of being the one in a bad mood. 

"What's your problem? We went out for a nice night and you've ruined it by leaving early." You rolled your eyes as you went back to struggling to reach the zip at the back of your dress, 

"You could have stayed there, lord knows you were having fun without me before I came in with Brian." You mumbled to yourself, wanting to scream out in annoyance with the dress when you couldn't get it undone quick enough.

"Talk to me when you're out of this mood," He grumbled at you as he turned to leave the bedroom, you sniffled as the tears you'd been holding in all night finally began to pour down your cheeks. 

"If you were so embarrassed by what I was wearing you should have just told me! Instead of going to great lengths to keep me hidden away from every person and camera possible." You breathed out as you stared at the back of his head, his shoulders tensed up as he turned back to look at you. 

"Is that what you thought I was doing?" His eyes softened as he stared at you waiting for your answer,

"No. Its what I know you were doing. I-I heard Lila and that in the bathroom, f-for fuck sake Chan you made me go through the back entrance and left me in a waiting room for an hour! Completely forgetting I was there!" The tears came gushing down your cheeks as the night stayed clear in your head. Your hands began to shake as you tried to get the dress off your body but it wouldn't budge. The zipper staying in place as you continued to try and get it off you,

"G-Get it off me, please." You stumbled over your words continuing to struggle until you cried out, 

"Get this fucking thing off me!" Your hands began shaking viciously as you tried to get the dress to come undone Chan wrapped his arms around you from behind as he began unzipping the dress for you as he helped you out of it. The two of you sunk down onto your knees as he brought you into his chest but you moved away from him, shaking your head as you cried. 

"I never meant for you to think that-" He tried to defend himself but you shook your head again, your mind going back to what you heard him say before.

"I heard what you were telling the boys, that I look awful and I'm embarrassing you...Next time save me the embarrassment and tell me." You got up from the floor heading to the en-suite when Chan stopped you by pressing his body against yours. His heart was racing you could feel it on your bare back as he wrapped his arms around you from behind as he shook his head. Promising you that it wasn't you that he was talking about.

"Baby no, N-No. I wasn't talking about you." He sighed, leaving kisses up and down your shoulder as he tried to reassure you that it wasn't you that he'd been talking about. The more he kissed you the harder you cried not wanting him to lie to you, 

"I heard you, I heard Lila and the girls. Y-You should have told me at home and I wouldn't have gone Chan. You wouldn't have to have gone to great lengths in hiding me." He turned you around to face him but you avoided his gaze keeping your eyes turned to the floor until he cupped your face in his hand.

"Whatever Lila said is a lie, I took you through the back because I know how insecure you are about cameras, I didn't want you to be uncomfortable with them." He whispered to you as he bent down to look into your eyes whenever you would move them off him, 

"I left you in the back room while I went to finish working on a song. I was on my way when Sana and Mina asked me to stand with them..." You scoffed at his poor attempt at an excuse, the first one you could believe but not this one, 

"Yeah, right. Like I was born yesterday." You swatted his hands away from your body but he pulled you back to him not letting you get away from him that easily. Not when he had to tell you the truth and make you see the truth. 

"I'm not and never will be embarrassed to be seen with you. What would make you think anything like that?" He reassured you as he kissed your forehead, 

"Y-You didn't say anything when you saw the dress at home and then when we went through the back I thought maybe it was true...T-Then Lila in the bathroom-" A sob interrupted you as you cried out again feeling pathetic for crying over something like this in front of him, 

"Then when I was leaving you said how awful someone looked and how embarrassing it was..." Chan could see why you thought he was doing the best he could to keep you hidden but he shook his head.

"Lila is a piece of work, I'll talk with Changbin about it later. Y/n. You're the most beautiful girl I've ever laid eyes on...You could have rocked up in a bin bag and I would have loved you for it." He whispered as he sat you down on the edge of the bed beside you, linking his hands with yours as he tried to get you to listen to him and pay attention. 

"The only thing embarrassing about tonight was that Lila won a day with me, she didn't bother bidding on anything except for me. The thing I said looked awful..." You looked up at him with your eyes teared up and bloodshot, he cupped your face in his hands as he shook his head leaning down to peck your lips.

"Was Sana's necklace, none of them wanted to wear them but their managers said it looked great. I didn't have the heart to say it didn't." Everything he was telling you was starting to make sense, deep down inside Chan would never do anything or say anything that could hurt you but in those moments your head did all of the overthinking for you.

"I'm sorry." You whispered to him as you snuggled your head into his chest, his arms automatically wrapping around your body as he whispered that it was okay. 

"I love you, you looked stunning tonight babe." He whispered to you as he pressed small kisses on the top of your head repeating it over and over to you. 

"I really do love the dress..." He whispered as you sniffled against him again, 

"I love you too Channie," You whispered to him not answering him on the dress subject since it was just bringing bad memories to your mind. 

"Come on. Let's get you into a nice hot shower and then I'll make us a hot drink." He tapped your side carefully as he helped you up from the bed turning to leave for the bathroom when his phone started vibrating from inside his pocket. 

"You bid on Brian-Hyung?" He stared at his phone as he read the text from Brian, glancing over his shoulder you smirked to see the smirking emojis from the older idol, 

Tell Y/n to put on her dancing shoes we're going to have a great day! You started giggling to yourself as you pulled Chan towards the bathroom trying to make him forget about it, 

"I'll swap my day with Lila for your day with Brian Hyung," He mumbled as he looked at you not wanting to get jealous over you and Brian again. 

"How about we just dump the day with Lila and you come with me and Brian?" You questioned as a text came through to your phone confirming your win on both Chan and Brian for a day together, outbidding Lila by a mile by the looks of it. 

"Did I ever mention that you're the best girlfriend a guy could ask for?" You shook your head as Chan picked you up carefully and carried you towards the bathroom, 

"I don't think you've ever mentioned it Christopher. Tell me please," You giggled as he kicked the bathroom door shut and began explaining all of the reasons you were so great to you.

Tagline: @taestannie​ @channiewoo​ @kneel-begyourpardon​ @minholuvs​ @lkwonmj​

[suchalonelysunflower]

“She’s got You Mesmerized” (C.H)

Pairing: Calum Hod X Reader

Requested: Yes!

Summary: Based on the song “Heather” by Conan Gray. You notice how Calum seems to fall for the new intern at the studio, even when he doesn’t realize it.

Warnings: The reader uses she/her pronouns, I’m sorry if I make anyone uncomfortable by that, it was not my intention at all. Angst with a happy ending. Language. Jealousy. Mentions of Cheating. Maybe some grammar mistakes (English is not my first language, sorry)

Word Count: 2K

Author’s Note: Requested by the lovely @rime-warrior I hope I could do it justice 💕 There are some lyrics hiding in the story. Feedback, Comments and Reblogs are always welcome! I love to hear from you guys ❤️ You can read my other works HERE. Happy reading 🦋

@rime-warrior: Hi! Can you please write an imagine with Calum based on the song “heather” by Conan gray :) (yes I am in my feelings at the moment)

Relationships are hard. You knew that. They can’t survive only on love, that would be foolish. No, you need to take compromise, to communicate, to have some sort of connection beyond the physical attraction and be respectful towards each other. But, most importantly, you need trust.

And you trusted Calum, you really did, with all your heart. He had done nothing but make you happy every single day for the past two years. Of course, dating a rockstar is not an easy thing to do, but despite the paparazzi, the fans and the constant going away on tour, you made it work.

You still remember the night that he made it official, when on a cold December night he posted that picture of you in his favorite and iconic hoodie “It looks better on her anyway” he captioned it.

It was not like him to brag about his personal life on social media, and the fact that he did that just made your relationship stronger from then on, knowing that you were in this together till the end of the line.

You were happy and in love. It seemed like nothing could penetrate the little bubble that you created for yourselves. Well, that was until her.

Calum texted you inviting you to the studio that day, saying that the two of you could grab dinner afterwards. It’s been a while since you spend some quality time with him since he came back from yet another very successful tour, so you accepted immediately. You got yourself ready, grabbed the keys to your car and drove, your heart already excited.

When you got there, however, all that emotion died down a little, your smile quivering a bit when you saw Calum sitting alone in a room with another girl. He was laughing at something she said, shaking his head amusingly as she placed her hand on his knee. You had a bad feeling about this. You didn’t know who this mystery girl was, but you knew Calum, and he would never cheat on you, would he?

Almost like he could sense your presence, your boyfriend lifted his gaze and smiled as he met yours through the big window of the booth. He quickly got up and ran towards the door, wrapping his arms around your waist and softly pecking your lips, making your thoughts fade away in his embrace.

“Hello, gorgeous” he hummed, resting his chin at the top of your head.

“Hey, handsome” You said with a smile, pulling away from him just enough so you could look him in the eyes “Ready to go?”

“Yeap. But first, I want you to meet someone”

Calum went inside the booth one more time and grabbed the girl by her hand, making her stand up and follow his way to you.

“This is Heather. Heather, Y/N”

Oh shit, she was pretty. A true sight for sore eyes . Her blue eyes contrasted perfectly with her raven black hair, she had curves in all the right places and her complexion seemed angelic. You weren’t completely sure if she was real or just a vision until she extended her hand towards you.

“It’s so nice to meet you!” Heather said shaking your hand. Smiling like a kid.

“She’s been helping us with the album” Calum said looking at her “She’s an amazing songwriter. Honestly, she puts all of us to shame!”

“Oh, please stop! Cal here is just being too nice”

“No, I’m not! I swear Y/N, she’s a genius”

They started laughing and you awkwardly joined in, not really understanding if there was joke.

“Well, I’m sure if Calum says it, then it must be true” You gently, grabbed your boyfriend’s hand and intertwined your fingers with his “It was so nice to meet you, Heather”

She smiled and said a little “likewise” before heading back to the booth. You and Calum made your way to the parking lot, and as you left the building you couldn’t help but comment “She seems nice”

“Oh, she is”

“And pretty”

“Is she?” Calum raised an eyebrow at you, making it seem like she just thought about it “Huh, guess I never noticed. Maybe it’s because I have the prettiest girl as my girlfriend” He smiled as he brought you closer to him, placing a kiss on your forehead, making your heart flutter.

Maybe he didn’t notice. But you definitely did.

Over the last couple of months, you noticed how Heather was always around. On the studio, on the casual hangouts, on the nights out and on every party.. everywhere you go there she was. Always looking like an angel and always hanging around close to Calum. Maybe even too close for your liking.

Calum was always very touchy with the people he liked. Always hugging and kissing his friends on the cheek, never afraid to show affection. And that is something you absolutely love about him, but seeing him being that affectionate with her made you feel uneasy.

You couldn’t help but feel a hint of jealousy every time he put his arm around her shoulders, or how she would playfully hold his hand to compare sizes. You didn’t know if you were mad at Heather for leaning her head on his shoulder or at Calum for letting her get that close. You knew you could trust him, but you didn’t know if you could trust her.

She was nice. Sometimes too nice, actually. Making you feel bad about having those insecure feelings running around your head. But sometimes you just couldn’t help but wish she’d leave for good. Still not trusting her at all.

As the days went by, you sit and watched your suspicions came true as her flirting became more aggressive towards your, seemingly unaware, boyfriend. Not even trying to hide it or pretend to have an ounce of respect towards you as she laid her legs across his lap, play ‘pretend fighting’, laugh way to hard at all his jokes, leaving lingering touches here and there or took a lot of selfies kissing his cheeks. Even the fans thought you guys were broken up at some point, but nobody else seemed to notice, especially Calum. Maybe you were exaggerating.

You were getting ready to go out tonight, the band had just released a new single that went straight to number one and they needed to celebrate it. You were putting on some makeup when Calum came out of the bathroom, already dressed to impress.

“Hey, Y/N. Could you take a picture of my outfit? Luke asked for it so he could figure out what to wear since he can’t decide”

You laughed and nodded at his request. Grabbing his phone from the nightstand, you quickly started taking picture after picture, giggling at your boyfriend’s absurd poses. It was in the middle of all that scene that he got a text. It wasn’t your intention to open it, but your finger clicked on it by accident.

Heather 🙃💕: Thnks for the hoodie 💕💕🥰 can’t wait to see you 2nite ❤️❤️

Attached to it there was a very provocative mirror selfie of her, wearing nothing more than his empathy hoodie. The one he gave to you or that you stole from him every time you miss him and wanted to feel close to him. Your favorite. His favorite. And, apparently, hers as well.

Calum noticed how your expression changed drastically in a matter of seconds. One minute ago you were laughing with him and now it seems like you were about to burst into tears.

“Love, is everything okay?” He asked, making you lift your head, breaking your trance from the screen. You were livid.

“I don’t know” you spat “You tell me”

Turning the screen to his face, Calum’s eyes widened as he saw the picture, grabbing the phone out of your hands.

“Why is she sending you pictures like this?”

“I- I-“

He stuttered, making your face fall in disappointment “Calum, be honest” You said defeatedly “Are you cheating on me?”

Calum snapped his head at you.

“What?! Of course not!”

“And you expect me to believe you?” You said, gesturing at the phone in his hand.

“How can you say that? Y/N this means nothing!”

“You gave her your sweater!”

“It’s a fucking piece of fabric! It’s just polyester! It’s nothing”

“It wasn’t nothing to me!” You cry, not being able to hold it in anymore “I just- I just don’t know why would you ever kiss me when she’s standing right there! Practically begging you to do it. I’m not even half as pretty or talented or anything to call your attention anymore”

“What?”

“Please, Calum. I know you like her better. I see your eyes as she walks by. I see how you look at her while I die inside, you never seem to notice me but you always notice her, and I know because some time ago you used to look at me the same way. You’re spending all your time with her, laughing at her jokes and letting her flirt with you shamelessly. She’s got you mesmerized and you don’t even realize it. I wish I were Heather, maybe that way you could love me back” You whisper that last part, wiping your tears with the back of your hand.

“Y/N, that it’s not true. That is not the same way I look at you at all. I love you. Heather and I are just friends” Calum said, rubbing his hand down his face.

“Does she know that?”

“Y/N..”

“I don’t feel like going out anymore” You mutter, standing up, walking straight to the bathroom and locking the door.

As soon as you closed it, Calum was banging the door on the other side “Y/N”

“Just go, Calum”

“Fucking hell, Y/N. Don’t do this!” He was getting impatient “You’re being childish! C’mon, we’ll be late!”

“Then go! I’m not leaving”

You heard him mutter a “For fucks sake” before silence came over you two, only for it to be broken fifteen minutes later by the sound of the car driving off the street. Only then you allowed yourself to cry again.

You didn’t know how much time you spend like this, sitting on the floor with your back pressed to the hard wooden door, crying until you felt like you couldn’t cry anymore. So, slowly you got up, took all your makeup and your clothes, put on some pajamas and went to bed, not sure if Calum will be back for the night. Not sure if he will be back at all.

Tears started to burn your eyes once again and you allowed them to roll down your cheeks and stain your pillowcase. Your sobs rocking you until you drifted away in dreams.

Moments later, maybe a few hours or minutes, you were woken up by a large figure laying next to you on the bed. He was back.

Calum scooted closer to you, bringing his arms around your frame and pulling you into his embrace. He hid his head on the crook of your neck, leaving a trail of small kisses down its way.

“Cal..” You whispered. Your voice hoarse from all the crying “What are you doing?”

“You were right”

His voice sounded small, broken. Not like him at all.

You turned around in his arms, facing him in the darkness “What?”

Calum let out a sigh “You were right about Heather. She was flirting with me and I didn’t notice, but tonight she tried to make a move and kiss me…” You held your breath, not sure if you wanted to hear what he had to say next “She didn’t get to do it though, I pushed her away immediately and told her to never do that again. Next thing I know I was on my way here. On my way to you”

“Calum..”

“I’m sorry, baby. I was an idiot. I shouldn’t have invalidated your feelings the way I did, I should’ve listen. You’re the only one for me, love. I only got eyes for you, always you. You’re the only one who got me mesmerized, my everything. I’m sorry I haven’t shown it a lot lately, I’ll make it up to you”

You hummed and lifted your head so you could press your lips against him. He welcomed the kiss by placing his hand on your cheek and caressing it lightly.

“I’ll get that sweater back for you, I promise” He said, kissing your forehead.

“Oh, she can have it or you could burn it. I don’t care. I have the the only thing that matters right here, right now in my arms” He chucked at your response, bringing you closer to him.

“I love you”

“I love you, more” You hummed against his chest, breaking the comfortable silence once again after a while “Does this mean that I can say ‘I told you so’?”

[jimlingss]

Sugar and Coffee [16]

Chapter 15 - Chapter 16 - Chapter 17

➜ Words: 3k

➜ Genres: 99.5% Fluff, 0.5% Angst, Pâtisserie school!AU

➜ Summary: It isn't hard to be a pâtisserie chef, but it's not a piece of cake either. It seems like for you in particular, life keeps throwing in one wrench after another. It always finds ways to make your sweets bitter. The cherry on top is Jeon Jungkook — a rival with a sensitive sweet tooth who always finds ways to complain about you.

cr.

On Wednesday, you begin to bake, cut, and fill.   The ingredients are pulled from the borrowed kitchen — eggs, butter, buttermilk, vegetable oil, sugar, flour, baking powder, unsweetened cocoa powder, and vanilla. The oven is preheated to three hundred degrees fahrenheit and the round pans are greased. The four of you measure and mix together the dry ingredients, and then the wet ingredients.    Once it’s all ready, it’s baked while the ganache filling is worked on. Heavy cream, butter, chocolate, and a pinch of kosher salt are melted together with two tablespoons of brewed coffee to deepen the flavour. It cools and thickens, a fluffy texture that melts against your palate.    And when the moist cake is out of the oven, it cools too before being cut and filled.   “Alright, folks.” Namjoon dusts his hands off, shutting the fridge door. “Now on Friday, we just cover, dowel, and stack. Since the wedding is on Saturday, we want it to sleep overnight.”   “We’re going to have to prepare decorations tomorrow,” Sejeong says. If there was anyone’s cake that she wanted to perfect, it was her own sister’s. “Crumb coat the cakes and smooth the frosting, colour the fondants, make the flowers. Just so we can get it prepared in time and not be rushing on the last day.”    “Okay.” You offer a smile. “Are we still going with lavender?”   “That’s the plan. But we can worry about that tomorrow. How have you two been? Any problems?”   You glance at Jungkook, meeting his eye, but you divert hastily. “N-No, we’re fine. We’ve been enjoying ourselves. Thank you for bringing us along.”   “That’s not a problem.” Namjoon laughs heartily, practically glowing with a healthy tan. “We’re happy to have two more sets of hands. God knows the wedding is hectic and stressful enough, right, honey?”   “Chungha is having it tougher.” His wife sighs. “We’re just glad to get this done and over with.”   In between family feuds and relatives duking it out, you don’t need to tell them that you and Jungkook are incidentally sharing the same room over a mistake in booking. They have enough on their plates as it is.   But just because you don’t talk about your issues doesn’t mean that they’ve magically vanished.   Even if you wish that were the case.   “Morni—”   The moment you open your sleepy eyes, Jeon Jungkook has manifested in the mirror. You choke on your toothpaste, toothbrush sucked into your throat like a vacuum, lodged in. You choke it out and sputter.    Jungkook’s shocked awake, eyes widened as he pats your back.   You cough and rinse your mouth. “Oh my god. You scared me to death!”   “All I said was good morning!” He shoots you a look, leaning in too close with his still sleepy demeanour, fluffed hair and swollen face. “Are you alright?”   “Obviously not! I almost died!”   You’re not okay. Very far from any semblance of ‘okay’.   For one, you can’t look the bastard in the eye. You can’t stop yourself from perspiring. It’s as if your best friend is someone worthy to be fearful of…   No. It’s not that you’ve become afraid of Jungkook. You’re nervous.   “I’m going to shower.”   “Sounds good.”   It shouldn’t be surprising. He even warned you. But the moment Jungkook starts to strip off his shirt, you’re caught off guard at how he didn’t wait for you to leave ⁠— how comfortable he is with you. You have half a mind left to sprint out of the bathroom. Nearly falling over. Barely catching your stumble.    Jungkook watches with his brows raised incredulously.   The bathroom door eventually shuts and you change as quick as you can, and run out of the room without a word. Like you’re being chased by loan sharks.   “Hey, Y/N.” After ten minutes, Jungkook comes out topless, having forgotten to grab a shirt. But he pays no mind, toweling off his head. “We should get room servi—…...Y/N?”   The doe-eyed boy looks around, realizing that you’re gone.   You’ve headed across the resort to the restaurant for breakfast. Finally, you’re able to have a meal in peace without having to lift your head to see a big nose and brown, doe eyes.    You grab a healthy serving of eggs, toast and cereal. And you pick a good table to look out and enjoy the view.   But fifteen minutes into your meal, someone suddenly plops down across from you.   You’re startled to death again.   “I can’t believe you ditched me.”   “S-Sorry…” You look away. “I was too hungry to wait.”   “Could’ve told me at least. I would’ve hurried up.” He spreads cream cheese on his bagel, ruffled mop of hair flopping as he moves. He’s dressed like a true tourist again, this time with a hawaiian shirt that’s bright orange with blue florals all over it.   Jungkook’s eyes are round and buggy as he bites down and he hums in satisfaction at the taste. “So what are our plans for today? It’s the only full day we have left before we have to work on the cake.”   “I don’t know.” You stand up. “I finished. Should go back to the room. I have a stomach ache.”   “Really?” His left cheek is puffed out with food stored inside. “But I just got here.”   “Nature calls.” You run off, leaving your best friend in the dust.   It’s horrible being stuck on an island with Jeon Jungkook.    No matter where you run or how you hide, he’s always there.   “How was the—”   You scream.   “—bathroom trip.” Jungkook looks at you, brows furrowed deep.   “You scared me!” You put your hand over your heart where it’s pounding hard, threatening to jump out of your chest.   “But I didn’t do anything,” he defends, mouth drawing open as he gestures around, perplexed at how you could be frightened in broad daylight, in the middle of the day, with this many people around. “Are you sure you’re okay?”   “I’m fine. H-how’d you even find me?!”   “I don’t know, I was just heading back to the room. The resort isn’t that big.” He shrugs and finally is able to get a good look at you. Jungkook slowly smiles at your one-piece swimsuit. “Are you going in for a dip? I can join.”   The thought of Jungkook ripping off his shirt, jumping into the pool and getting all wet with you has your knees weak. It’s not a healthy idea.    “No. Changed my mind. It’s kind of….cold out for a swim. I’m probably going to go back inside to change.”   “Y/N. It’s hot. It’s like a hundred degrees out here.”   You muster stiff laughter. “Well I’m feeling a bit chilly. Gonna go back and change. See ya!”   You sprint off again, in a completely disoriented manner. Jungkook shouts your name when you nearly slip on a puddle of water by the poolside and almost crack your head open. But luckily, you catch yourself and throw him a half-hearted smile and an exaggerated wave goodbye.    Part of you wishes you would’ve just fallen into the pool or hit your head. Maybe it would finally knock some sense into your brain.   There’s no reason for you to be so nervous around him. This is Jeon Jungkook you’re talking about — IU fanboy, the biggest nerd of the universe, officially the worst flirt on this planet.   There’s absolutely no reason for your stomach to flip. For you to be unable to retain eye contact with your friend. For you to suddenly be so self-aware and conscious of him that you feel nervous when he’s around and nervous when he’s not. There’s no reason whatsoever…   “You need to get your head straight.”   You’re muttering to yourself as you walk. You probably look crazy, but need to hear it out loud. If no one’s going to help you by saying it, then you’ll say it yourself. “Focus, Y/N. Focus—”   A blood-curdling shriek tears from your stomach when there’s suddenly knocking. You turn to see Jeon Jungkook beside you, separated by a window, but laughing hysterically at your reaction. His nose is scrunched, mouth drawn up into that boyish smile of his.   He’s inside the fitness center in a white tank top, sweating enough to make his hair damp, and the dark stands are pushed back against his head. That little shit is scaring you on purpose now.   “Are you shitting me, Jeon Jungkook?!” Your fist pounds against the glass and you fail to notice how everyone else in the gym is whirling their heads around at the noise.   The resort attendant runs up on you.   “Ma’am, please don’t bang on the glass.”   “S-sorry.”   Jungkook is in bigger hysterics now, bent over and grabbing his stomach, laughing loud enough for you to hear through the window. His smile is excited, eyes lit up.   Everywhere. Every corner you turn to. Every path you take. Some way or another — whether you’re talking to Namjoon or Chungha, hanging at the bar, around the pool, on the beach to watch the waves — no matter how hard you try to evade him, Jungkook is always there.   You didn’t know it would be so hard to avoid him. He’s truly like the plague.   Or maybe a curse.    Better yet, it would be more fitting to call Jeon Jungkook the year-round Christmas grinch. He’s here to ruin your life, ruin your holiday, and make your head filled with him and only him.   “You’re not avoiding me, are you?”   He finally asks after crawling into bed beside you that night. His hands are folded on top of his midsection and he’s staring up at the ceiling even if he can’t see when the entire room is drowned in a comfortable darkness.   You muster some laughter. “Don’t be ridiculous.”   The sheets shift and from the little light coming through the terrace glass doors, you can see him looking at you. And you can feel his body warmth with the small distance. “I would hate it if you were a hypocrite since you don’t like when others ghost you.”   “I said I’m not,” you whine. The lie gives a tickle of guilt in your gut. “You shouldn’t accuse people after they’ve already defended themselves.”   “Okay.” The corners of his lips quirk. “Just making sure. I don’t want to scare you off.”   You scoff, eyes adjusting enough to be able to look at him. It’s quiet, with him beside you underneath the covers, too close but too far. Yet somehow, in spite of the silence of your room, it’s still very noisy inside your head. “You really think you’re going to get rid of me that easily?”   “No. And I’m glad for that. I wouldn’t want to lose you.” Jungkook grins and he teases, “You’re not a coward, Y/N. Right?”   “Psh. Go to bed, Jeon.”   “Hmm, I’m not tired, but I do know an activity we can do together that’ll tire me right out.”   “Yeah, my fist meeting your face.”   He laughs and you roll over, tugging the covers up to your chin.   You don’t say out loud, don’t admit it, but you are a coward.    One big coward who pretends to face the truth with courage, but actually learnt to run and hide in the face of trouble. A coward who can’t face the music, who’s actually wide awake like he is, but won’t say it. Whose heart is stuttering too loud to try to slip underneath the seduction of slumber.    You won’t admit the funny feeling you get when your gaze sets upon Jungkook. You won’t acknowledge it even when it’s screaming into your ear drums and drumming against your rib cage. You won’t confess that the nervousness you feel is far from platonic.   It’s hard not to feel stuck on Jungkook. These days, the last person you see before you sleep is him and he’s the first person you see when you wake up. He’s both the beginning and the end.   “Hey, Y/N.” You’re stirred away by a soft voice calling to you. “Wake up.”   When your lids peel back, you see him. The strands of his black hair nearly tickle the skin of your cheeks and he smiles tenderly at you. “We have a long day. Come on.”   You’re a coward and you have been for some time now.   //   Friday is the busiest day of the week. It’s the eve of the wedding and where you’re in the kitchen for hours on end.   Between the four of you, the lilac-coloured fondant is rolled out to cover the chocolate cake and ganache frosting. The dowel rods are inserted and the cake is stacked. Once it’s to Sejeong’s satisfaction, the decorating process begins. The sugar lavender that you made yesterday is used, placed delicately in the correct positions and you work on tracing a lace pattern on the bottom most layer.   Hours later, with muscles sore and eyes stinging, she’s finally satisfied.   It ends up looking magnificent. All the effort is presented in front of you — the cake is a soft purple colour, lavender flowers made from gum paste and real lilacs edible.   “It’s too pretty to eat.”   “It always is.” Sejeong smiles. “But when we do, it’ll be delicious.”   Namjoon stretches his arms over his head, making noises as his bones crack. “I’m starving. What time is it?” He checks his watch. “I think the snack bar is still open. We should go eat now since we have to wake up bright and early tomorrow.”   “I forgot how much work it was to be a bridesmaid.” Sejeong sighs lightly. “Let’s just get the cake in the fridge for now.”   Jungkook and Namjoon carefully move the cake into the refrigerator area, a whole cold storage, and you take your aprons off, washing your hands. Sejeong turns to you and Jungkook. “Are you guys hungry too? You probably are since we’ve been working so late.”   You exchange a look with him. “N-No. We’re fine.”   “Are you sure?” Namjoon asks, brows raised.   “Yeah, I’m sure. I’m more tired than hungry. I’ll probably call it a night.”   “Same here.” Jungkook offers a smile, following your lead.   “Well alright, I’ll see you both bright and early then! Good job, you two.” Namjoon smiles and both he and his wife leave the kitchen, talking to one another until their voices fade away.   Jungkook then turns to you with his brow raised. “Are you really not hungry?”   You look down at your stomach and it rumbles. You wonder if he can hear it too. “I thought I’d give them alone time since we’ve been busy all day….”   An extended sigh pulls from the man’s lungs.   Jungkook smiles and as he passes by you, he ruffles your hair. “You’re so unnecessarily thoughtful sometimes….”   You turn around, trailing after him. Jungkook opens the fridge and hums, eyes searching.    “What are you doing?” you ask curiously.   “Looking for ingredients since a little someone said they weren’t hungry and now we can’t go to the only place still open.” He grins easily. “So unless you want to go back to the hotel room and wait half an hour for room service, I’ll cook.”   Jungkook sounds so self-assured that you comply, finding your place on a stool as he begins to pull out mushrooms, shallots, parmesan cheese, butter, and starts digging around the cupboards. “You can cook?”   “’Course I can. I’m a master of the kitchen.” His eyes flicker up and the little shit mocks you. “Why? Can’t you?”   “The pan always burns,” you mutter.   “Is that why you can’t melt chocolate over the stove?” he questions with a glint of mischief.   “For the record, I’m getting better. It’s not like I do it intentionally anyway. But are we even allowed to use these ingredients, Jungkook? Won’t we get into trouble?” It’s not your kitchen after all — just a small space the resort was willing to let you use.   He merely shrugs. “We have to live a little.”   You sit on the other side of the island, watching him closely.    Jungkook finds a can of chicken stock and heats it over the stove in a small saucepan. Then he moves to chop shallots and mushrooms, sleeves pulled up to his elbows, forearms revealed as he works the knife in a constant motion that’s therapeutic to listen to. Jungkook fries the shallots and mushrooms over the hot oil and butter in a skillet, tossing and flipping them as they sizzle.   He works fluidly, in a rhythm without needing to stop and think twice. It’s fun to watch.   “What are you making?”   “Mushroom risotto.”   “Sounds fancy.”   “It is,” he lies.    In your ignorance, you’re unaware that it’s actually an easy recipe. You’re also oblivious to the fact that Jungkook is secretly beaming with gratitude that his dad taught him this recipe years ago. His dad was right that he needed to learn how to cook basic dishes to one day impress.   Jungkook adds the rice, coating it in the butter before adding a cup of white wine he found in the cupboards. Once it’s fully absorbed, he puts in the chicken stock and adds salt to taste. All the while, he’s watching you from the corner of his eye. He can read you like a book and your amazed expression feeds directly into his ego.   When Jungkook turns around to throw something in the sink, he lets his enormous smile slip.   “If we ever have the time, I’ll make you shrimp or chicken risotto.”   “You can make that?”   “Of course, cooking isn’t hard.”   “Pft. You really know how to do everything, don’t you, Jeon?”   “You said it, not me.”   He serves it on a big plate, even taking the extra step to clean the edges up with a napkin. You’re amazed and when he arrogantly urges you to take a bite, you can’t even tell him off. It’s delicious.   And once you say so, he can't deny how happy he is.   Jungkook is over the fucking moon. He would cook for you for the rest of his life if you’d let him.

[cozy-neko]

born to be alone

now playing: around - NIKI

summary:  "right now I've nothing to lose because you love me, and i love you." except he doesn't love you the way you love him. // kita shinsuke

theme(s): age-gap, one-sided pining, song-fic, hurt & comfort, angst 

warning(s): 7-year age difference (in case anyone is uncomfy with that big (?) of an age gap), indirect implications of child negligence, father issues 

word count: 4645

rating: light | medium | heavy

know where i've been where i'm from | 9 + 16

the first time you met kita shinsuke was on a chilly fall day. you had met him by chance, sitting all by yourself on a swing set in the middle of an empty park in the lonely hours of dusk. swaying lightly back and forth half-heartedly, you had wished instead that there was someone to give you the small push you needed to take flight and soar through the clouds.

how pitiful, you think to yourself as the creak of the rusty swing echoes and drifts away with the wind, isn’t there anybody out there for me?

you can’t help the tears that are dripping down your nose and onto the floor, and you're trying your hardest to stop your sniffles. you’re convinced that there's no one, but it’s the sound of heavy footsteps and crunching leaves approaching you that tell you otherwise.

you hold your breath, eyes still fixed onto the floor, your little nine-year-old mind refusing to believe that this was a sign sent from the heavens. a pair of loafers approach your line of sight, and the owner of those shoes silently kneel in front of you so that the two of you are in the same line of sight of one another.

vibrant golden orbs lock onto your own muddled ones. it’s the soft smile on his boyish face and intense eyes that make your cheeks flare up; you’re not used to someone looking at you so intimately and for such a long time at that.

“are you waiting for someone to pick you up?” his voice is just as kind as you had expected it to be. after all, the emotions hidden in people’s eyes do not lie; that much you knew from experience.

“there’s no one,” you whisper under your breath. there really isn’t and there never will be. the onii-san’s eyebrows furrow at your reply. he opens his mouth, about to speak, but gets interrupted by his friends calling for him.

“one second,” he calls back over his shoulder. his attention is on you again, this time a troubled expression on his face. you watch with curious eyes as he lifts his hand up in what looked like an attempt to wipe at your tear-stained cheeks, but he stopped halfway almost as if debating if it was alright for someone like him to touch someone like you.

“it’s cold out tonight,” he chooses to say instead. “would you like to come home with me and wait for your parents instead? i promise it will be warmer.”

no matter how hard you tried to suppress it, it was virtually impossible to stop the chattering of your teeth and the trembling of your body from the thin shirt you were wearing in the middle of a particularly cold autumn. the onii-san unbundles the forest green scarf around his neck and wraps it around yours a couple of times.

“kita!! hurry up, man!”

"you guys go home first," he tells his friends. waving goodbye, kita turns around to face you once more, a gentle smile back on his face.

kita...san... you say his name over and over again in your mind the entire time on your walk back to kita's house. you clutch the wool scarf in your hand tightly, nuzzling the warmth of the fabric against your wind-bitten rosy cheeks, your other small hand holding onto kita's bigger and warmer ones tightly. other than the howling wind and crunch of leaves, the rest of the walk home is silent, but surprisingly comfortable for the both of you.

you watched as my legs and pride grew tall | 14 + 21 

"please be more careful," kita chastises you with a sigh. you're sitting on the back of his truck, kicking your legs childishly as you lazed around, enjoying your melting popsicle.

"oh, don't be so serious, kita-san," you playfully chastise back while licking away the sweetness that dripped down your fingers. you know he's not talking about the sticky mess you're making, but more so about the two blooming scrapes on your knees courtesy of you falling during physical education earlier in the day.

it had been a hot one today, the sun beating down onto the two of your backs still despite the day starting to set. summer was approaching quick, with the cicadas singing morning and night and humid winds ruffling messy hairs and uniform skirts.

kita was finishing up his day’s work on the rice field and you had joined him as soon as school had let out for summer break. the walk from school to the fields was a long distance, but one you did not mind trekking if it meant you got to visit kita.

“what are we gonna do with you?” kita sighs.

his back is to you as he continues his work, but you can tell that there’s a smile on his face. kita didn’t have to always be facing you for you to figure out his mood. you had known him for a while now, and you were absolutely enamored with him ever since you were younger. you had always thought your feelings for kita were comparable to a younger sister admiring her older brother; someone who you knew would always look after your well-being and doted on you even if he didn’t show it on the surface. but now as you watched the silver-haired man hum a soft tune and dutifully attended his rice crop, you weren’t so sure if those feelings didn’t hold a deeper meaning.

you nibbled the bottom of your lip nervously as you pondered your thoughts. you didn’t even notice kita was making small conversation with you until he stood directly in front of you. snapping you out of your reverie, you then realized how close kita was. you flushed furiously, eyebrows furrowing and a small pout adorning your face.

“what?” you ask huffily. kita reaches out a gloved hand and encloses it around yours. you react with a squeak as he brings your joined hands to his mouth. before you realize what had happened, kita had finished the last of your sad and melted ice cream and kissed away the melted cream from your fingers.

“you’re dirtying your uniform,” he says nonchalantly before letting go of your hand entirely. your face is burning as you try to process what had just happened. “it’s getting late; i’ll drive you home.”

you can’t believe how calm kita is after such a bold move. but could you even consider it a bold move if it had come from kita? kita was a good man; he was diligent and respectful, and not one to perform actions he didn’t truthfully mean. but over the years that you got to know him, you also knew that he was a man who was often unaware of unnecessary feelings and emotions.

“why would you be nervous?” you once remembered him questioning you when he tutored you in math. “if it’s something you practice on routine, then there should be nothing to be nervous about on the day of your test.”

it was almost infuriating sometimes, you’ve come to realize, the fact that he could be such a simple and earnest person at times, and you couldn’t tell if what had just happen just now was one of the times kita had simply acted because he thought it was the right thing to do.

sighing, you decide it wasn’t worth it to fuss over for now. instead, you respond to his declaration. “i don’t wanna go home.”

kita eyes you wearily, and you almost feel bad for saying whatever had just come out of your mouth. you knew he had been working nonstop in the blazing sun all day and could probably do without your brattiness right now.

“your father might worry,” kita says calmly in which you scoff.

“there’s no one waiting for me at home and you know it.” you take the silence from kita as a chance to hop off his truck and make your way to the passenger seat.

“y/n,” kita says warningly, but follows your lead and hops into the driver’s seat. he turns on the ignition of the truck and begins the slow drive out of the acres of fields. “you know that’s not true.”

“it is true and you know it, kita-san!” you stomped your foot once and crossed your arms, slinking down in your seat. “you’ve known me since i was literally nine, and within these four years, when has there ever been a time where someone was waiting for me when i came home from school?”

honey orbs you’ve loved a little too much analyze you carefully. you feel exposed whenever kita looks at you so closely, but if there was anyone who you wanted to be able to be the most vulnerable with, it was with kita and kita only. you can tell he’s trying to think of something careful to say with the way he absentmindedly tugs on the front pieces of his black-tinged bangs whenever he was thinking thoughtfully.

“i’m sorry, kita-san,” you apologize. "if you could, please do take me home after all. i should probably tidy up my house a bit and make dinner." you didn’t mean to put him in an uncomfortable situation; you knew he was only trying his best to be respectful of your father. you pick at the fresh scabs on your right knee. kita gently stops you and holds your hand in his left one. you look up at him in surprise.

“don't pick at it; i don't want it to scar. and, i apologize. i stepped out of bounds,” he says and gives your hand a squeeze. "let's eat dinner together tonight."

you feel your face heat up once more at the small touch of affection and realize something; it wasn’t just your hand that he squeezed, but also your heart.

for the rest of the ride back to kita’s house, you notice that his hand was still holding yours. there’s butterflies in your stomach, and you wonder how kita would react if you were to interlace your fingers with his slender ones.

shyly, you look out your window and decide to test the waters by intertwining your fingers with his. for the rest of the ride back, you’re elated that kita doesn’t pull away. in fact, he even brushes his thumb soothingly across your knuckles once and your heart soars at his small but significant affection.

ah... you think. i love you.

you know who took me to prom* | 15 + 22

"have you ever kissed anyone, kita-san?" you ask one summer evening. kita chokes on his barley tea at your sudden question.

you giggle and reach over to pat him on the back as kita coughs his lungs out. crimson adorns his high cheekbones from embarrassment and the sudden force of liquid going down the wrong way.

"why the sudden question?" he mumbles, averting his gaze and hiding his flush behind a hand to his mouth.

"just curious," you sing-song and turn your back to him to continue leafing through the manga you were reading. you're glad that your hair acted like a curtain, hiding the way your ears burned at your own bold question.

"well curiosity killed the cat," kita hums and stands up from the small coffee table.

"aw, kita-san," you pout and thumb through another page. "i bet she was cute!" you tease, but what you didn't expect was a shy response back.

"...she was," kita says quietly from the kitchen after a pause. you freeze mid-flip. kita returns from the kitchen and places a tray of two strawberry cake slices on the table. "granny stopped by today with some cake she baked. come eat while it's still fresh."

you stay still in your spot on the engawa, letting the cool breeze ruffle your loose camisole and cotton shorts. suddenly you don't feel so well. kita's response had left an unsettling feeling in the pit of your stomach.

"y/n?" kita calls. you turn your head and take in the sight of kita sitting formally at the low table, cake slice in front of him and waiting patiently for you before digging in.

"my stomach doesn't feel well," you mumble weakly. kita hums once and beckons for you to come over. you sit up and crawl over to him. he pats his knees and helps you lie down, your head now on his lap.

"i told you not to wear loose shirts that can expose your stomach," kita gently scolds you and threads a hand through your hair.

"it was really hot today, kita-san," you counter weakly. your eyes slowly close at the comfort kita brings you as he continues to thread his fingers through your hair.

"you can still catch colds in the summer," kita responds.

"idiots like me won't catch summer colds," you answer back without a skip of a beat. a soft chuckle leaves kita's lips. you look up at him and are greeted with a warm smile. you can't help the one that blooms on your own face in reciprocation. he's looking down at you so lovingly, but you know the love that's on his face doesn't match the level of the one on yours.

it was undeniable that kita had grown more handsome over the last two years. his boyish face back in high school was replaced with more defined features, one of a young adult. the bangs framing his face needed a trim and his lips were a little fuller. but his eyes were the same from back then; always warm and inviting, and deep enough to get lost in. i want to kiss you...

"will you feel well enough for tonight?" kita catches you off guard. you blink, trying to process what he just asked you.

"huh?" you respond dumbly.

"for your date. you're going to the firework festival with a boy from your class, are you not?" his fingers catch against a tangle in your hair.

you had forgotten about your date for a moment. actually, that was main reason why you were at kita's house right now. you didn't want to go on that date in the first place, and you had escaped to kita's in hopes of ditching said date.

"oh..." you really didn't want to go; you wanted to be by kita's side for the remainder of the night, his hand soothingly playing with your hair. you wanted to eat strawberry cake with him and make a mess in his kitchen pretending to know what you were doing while cooking dinner with him.

"actually, he changed his mind..." you lie, averting your gaze from kita's curious one. his fingers stopped untangling your hair altogether and his eyebrows furrowed. kita took your silence as you being upset about the change in plans.

maybe you shouldn't have lied; you didn't mean to put kita in an awkward situation again. sighing, you turn your head upwards, planning on confessing about your lie. instead, your eyes widen at the close proximity of kita's face to yours. he was hunched over, his nose only mere inches away from your own. kiss me...please.

"do you want to go with me instead then?"

such a simple question, but it has your heart doing somersaults.

"are you sure?" you whisper. kita gives you a faint smile and nods.

"what kind of question is that? if i wasn't sure i wouldn't have asked you, dummy." a soft chuckle rumbles from within his chest and his fingers once again begin to stroke your hair like clockwork.

after a quick dinner, the two of you make your way to fireworks festival. kita leads you up a hill, promising you that this would hold the best view compared to the thick crowd down below. as the two of you take a seat, you wish that you had worn your prettiest summer yukata instead of the ordinary clothes kita was used to seeing you in. 

as the two of you make small talk and nibble on candied apples, you can't help but feel even more worse now, knowing you had stood up your unknowing classmate. but you had kita all to yourself for the rest of the night. you just wished that he saw it as a date the way you do. unfortunately for you, kita only saw it as kindness to make up for your pseudo-heartbreak. for the rest of the night, you don't pay attention to the hanabi display and instead wish you could lay your head on kita's shoulder the way other surrounding couples were.

*a/n: instead of writing something based on this lyric, i took inspiration from it and wrote something completely different instead to fit the story better with a cliché firework festival replacing prom. :')

i wanna be the one you call drunk | 16 + 23

your cheek stung. you had just gotten into an argument with your father which resulted in his palm connecting against your cheek. your father was a piece of shit, that much you had always known. you didn't even know if he deserved to even be called your father for how often he was absent since your childhood and the number of milestones he missed.

"he's still your father.... y/n. no matter what," kita had once told you. you hated how kita always had to give people the benefit of the doubt. no matter how many times you would rant about your absentee father, kita would always be there to remind you that he was still your father. maybe it was because kita had lost his when he was too young to remember, but you didn't think yours deserved even a mere thought. kita's heart was filled with love from his granny and friends, and he had always been raised to see the good in people; it was what made him who he was today - kind, patient, and sometimes too good for his own soul.

your scuffed boots crunched against the snow. it had just snowed last night, so the temperature had dropped considerably the next day. you tucked the bottom half of your face under your green scarf in hopes of it shielding you from the biting cold even just by a little. as you trekked across the white field, you pulled out your phone and numbly dialed kita's line only to be met with his voicemail after a few rings.

sighing, you stuffed your phone back in your pocket and looked up at the gloomy sky. you forgot that kita had a high school volleyball reunion today. he was probably too busy getting coerced into singing karaoke and drinking games.

life seriously sucks right now, you think to yourself. you exhale again, watching your breath mix with the brisk air. it was cold and you felt the loneliest you had felt in a while. hot tears welled up in your eyes and threatened to make their way down your cheeks. if kita was out, you didn't know where else to go; your safe haven was suddenly unavailable.

your phone ringing cut through your misery, prompting you to pull it out and take a look at who was calling. kita-san. you scrambled to swipe your frozen fingers across the screen to pick up the call.

"kita-san?" you sniffle. there's no reply on the other end, but instead loud laughter and the sound of the phone fumbling in someone's hands. "hello?"

you're about to hang up, dejected in thinking that kita had accidentally butt-dialed you, until you hear his voice.

"y/n." it's short and merely a greeting, but it has your heart reacting to him nonetheless.

"hi, kita-san," you reply back in a small voice. "how's your volleyball reunion? are you drunk yet?" you joke, a small laugh escaping your lips.

"is something wrong?" kita cuts you off before you can say any more.

"what do you mean?" you try to brush off his question and do your best to not sniffle.

"you were crying. i can hear it in your voice." and just like that, the dam breaks and tears run down your face. it's amazing how even the smallest of things kita is able to pick up on despite not physically being with you.

"i'm alright," you try to convince him, but you aren't even convinced yourself with the way your voice breaks in between sobs.

"where are you? i'm coming to you."

"no, it's okay. please don't come." at this point, you're crying harder at kita's concern about you. you don't want to cause him any trouble; you've already burdened him enough for the past seven years.

"kita! where are you going?" you hear his friends calling after him through his end. you can tell he's scrambling to put on his coat to leave and find you.

"meet me at the park," kita tells you. he doesn't even give you a chance to retort back as he hangs up the call.

your heart swells at the thought of you burdening him once more, but it also soars with the thought of getting to see kita when you needed him the most.

twenty minutes later, kita finds you sitting on the same swing he had found you seven years ago. he's out of breath, having run from the karaoke place in the middle of town all the way to the park he had promised to find you at. his hair is matted against the sweat of his forehead, and he's feeling too warm for his thick winter coat, but he's glad to see you waiting for him. what he's not glad to see are the tearstains on your swollen cheek.

kita approaches you and kneels to be eye-level with you. he reaches out a gloved hand and gently cups your swollen cheek, a frown marring his pretty face. he's still slightly breathless, and you can smell the alcohol from his breath. he must've had quite the amount of drinks considering the rosy glow on his face and the slightly glazed eyes. kita's mind is slightly hazy from the copious amount of beers atsumu shoved down his throat, but that's not new to him; he refuses to admit it, but his mind is always slightly hazy when he's with you.

"i'm sorry," kita apologizes. you feel like a hot mess with your wind-blown hair, puffy eyes and cheek and runny nose. to kita, you're still the most beautiful thing in the world. a pretty crier, he had called you once when you were eleven as he stroked your hair soothingly to calm you down.

you had often thrown temper tantrums when you were little, not understanding that it was the negligence from an absent father and dead mother that had built up the thorns that tried so hard to protect your fragile heart. kita had felt pity for you when you were younger and crying your eyes out. but now, seeing you at sixteen, the peak of your teenage years with tearstained cheeks and hiccupping breaths, hurt his heart.

"i'm sorry." his breath fans across your face as he leans in to touch his forehead with yours. you sob harder, your grip on his coat tightening and refusing to let go.

right now i’ve got nothing to lose because you love me, and i love you | 17 + 24

a lot can happen in one year, you tell yourself. you're staring out the window of the train, the scenery passing by in a blur, but you're hardly paying attention. how could you when the only thing you can think about is where you're headed.

in the past year, you had fallen hard in love and had gotten your heart broken. but within that one year, you had also somewhat rekindled your broken relationship with your father who had begged for your forgiveness and promised to be a better father. you had reluctantly agreed to try to repair what little relationship the two of you had and were now on your way to live with him in sendai. he had promised you a better life in a new town, and you felt that moving might give you the fresh start you knew you needed. staying in hyogo was only starting to weigh you down with memories filled with kita.

you remember that day in the park where kita had kneeled in front of you, comforting you. you remember the way his forehead leaned against yours, your breaths mingling in the chilling cold. you remember closing the gap between your lips, salty tears mixing with the bittersweet tang of soft lips. you also remember the way kita's lips did not respond to yours the way you thought they would. and you devastatingly remember the way he pulled away from you, rejection and sadness evident in those eyes that you loved too much.

you remember the uncomfortable silence shrouded between the two of you as kita walked you back home. for the remainder of the year, kita felt a responsibility as the older one to try his hardest to make things normal between the two of you, but you didn't have the heart to reciprocate the effort. how could you, when the man you have loved for half of your life didn't love you back the same way you did? you didn't think your relationship with kita would ever mend, but as seasons changed, you found it slightly easier to start talking to him again little by little. before you knew it, you came to realize that it was simply enough for kita to hold you as one of the most important people in his life.

"i'm moving to sendai with my dad, kita-san. he asked me to move with him so we could start over and i'm thinking of going with him."

kita's eyes widened, and his movements stilled. he whipped around to face you, but you still had your back to him. he wondered what kind of expression you were making. you've been happier lately, kita had noticed, and he wondered if it was because of what you had just told him.

"that's wonderful, y/n," he tells you after drawing in a deep breath. kita stands up from crouching over the bed of flowers he was watering in his small garden and crouches down next to you. your eyes finally steadily meet his after two long months. "i'll miss your company." he wishes instead he could tell you that he would miss you altogether.

"i'll come visit when i have breaks." you're grinning, but kita knows it's not genuine. "i don't regret it, you know." you tell him suddenly and stand up straight. kita looks up and squints, the sun blinding his eyes.

"regret what?"

"loving you." your hands are clasped behind your back, and you're fiddling your fingers, but your posture is tall and straight. a small huff comes out of kita's mouth, and his lips break into a smile.

"yeah. thank you," he replies, and he genuinely means it.

kita stands up to his full height and reaches a hand towards your face. you flinch on instinct, squeeze your eyes shut, and hold your breath. delicate fingers ghost across your cheek before making way to tuck a small daisy in your hair. kita ducks down to your height-level and brushes his lips against your cheeks in a chaste goodbye kiss. you breathe in his scent, the comforting sun mixed with clean laundry detergent. you hope to keep a piece of him with you always.

[now approaching sendai station. please make sure to collect all your belongings and enjoy your stay in sendai]

ah... you think bitterly. a lone tear drips down your cheek as you exit the train and step onto the sendai platform. in this world, we were born to be alone after all.

[theodore-themilkman]

Doctor Sexy In The House

In which your brothers find out you don't just play nurse after their hunting trips. 

Ships: None.

Reader Age: 21 

Reader Gender: Female

Extra Info: You're a Winchester

WARNINGS: angst 

-Road So Far-

I think I first realised I wanted to be a doctor when I was 7. My dad and my big brother, Dean, had just returned from a hunt (Sammy had stayed with me) and they were pretty banged up.

I remember my father calling me over and telling me that he needed me to stitch him up on his back. Like any 7 year old I didn't know how to do that, he showed me how as he stitched up the werewolf scratches in Dean's arms as any father would.

I remember after he'd finished up Dean he'd handed me the needle and told me that he knew I could do it. Minutes later he'd snatched the thing from my hand and called me useless when I'd poked him but that didn't discourage me.

I practiced on the only doll I had. I would cut her up and sew her back together again until I could do it with my eyes closed.

I moved on from stitches and learnt how to identify and treat broken bones, then I learnt how to remove bullets and glass shards from the body without harming the patient from the inside, then I found out how to deliver a baby (while under the pressure of a vengeful spirit trying to murder myself and the woman - I give myself extra points for that one). It continued over the years to the point that I was at college level doctoring by age 14.

Dad and my brothers didn't know. They didn't know that I had graduated high school at age 15 (I assume they thought I'd dropped out). They didn't know that I was completing online courses on the laptop I'd been given for research. They didn't know that when I went on a solo hunt I was actually finishing my practical exams at a nearby university. They didn't know because I didn't tell them.

I thought of telling Sam when he left for Stanford but since he hadn't even considered online schooling I'd assumed that he wouldn't appreciate it so I kept my mouth shut. I got my degree two months after he left. I was 18.

I stayed with Dean and Dad, I was their nurse of some sorts after hunts. They knew I was good at playing doctor, they didn't know that I was actually a doctor.

When Dad went missing 2 years later Dean and Dean and I went to fetch Sam I considered it again. Telling them. But something stopped me and I kept it to myself until one hunt a year or so after we had gotten Sam.

-Line Break-

"Y/N you coming with us to see the doc or...?"

I stared at Dean for moment, contemplating whether or not I actually wanted to be apart of this hunt. "Yep," I finally decided and followed them to the Impala.

I said nothing as we drove, only listening as the boys talked. I wasn't very close to my brothers, I felt as if I couldn't connect with them. With my choosing stay at the motel over hunting with them most of the time, it wasn't all too surprising. So I didn't let it get to me and tried to get along with them as much as I could.

As we stopped in front of the university Sam looked to me. "You got your badge?" It was my first hunt in a while and I wasn't surprised that he was checking up on me before we went in.

I nodded, pulling out the fake doctoring badge I had been given to prove it and placed it back into my pocket.

"Good, now remember I'll do the talking and you and Dean just say something when absolutely necessary," Sam reminded me. Usually it was Dean that would take charge like this but this was smart stuff and obviously Sam was the smart one so he had to take the lead. I would've rolled my eyes if I wasn't afraid of exposing myself to them.

We entered the building and were stopped by one of the doctors - a real one, not a phony like us. "Can I help you?"

Sam flashed the woman a smile, the charming innocent one that he used on cases when he wanted to look less suspicious. "Yeah, I'm Dr Urie. With me are my colleagues Dr Joseph and Dr Way. We were sent to check out the Pierce Murders."

She narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "Can I see your badges please?"

Sam's smile didn't waver. "Of course."

He handed her his fake badge, Dean and I following his lead. She looked at the three badges individually, her eyes shining with more and more belief until she came to mine. Her head snapped up and she looked at me with wide eyes. "Dr Winchester? As in Dr Y/N Winchester, the youngest doctor in our country."

I blinked then glanced to the badge in her hand. It was my actual badge. Of all the mistakes-

"Yeah, that's me," I told her, ignoring my internal freak out and my brothers' burning gazes.

"It's truly an honor," she murmured in admiration. "You guys said you were here for the Pierce Murders?" We nodded. "Okay, I can take you right now although Dr Winchester -"

I nodded that she continue. "If it isn't too much trouble could you take a look at a few of our live patients upstairs." I grinned, still ignoring my brothers and nodded.

-Line Break-

As the three of us returned to the car it was silent but I knew that wouldn't last long. And as we got into the car I was proven correct when Dean started demanding answers.

"What the hell was that?"

I rolled my bottom lip between my teeth. It looks like it was time to come clean. "I uh I'm a qualified doctor. Have been for a few years now. I graduated medical school and everything."

My brothers stared at me with wild eyes. "When did you do that?" Dean demanded.

"Well I got my medical license when I was 18," I answered tentatively.

It was Sam that spoke this time. "How the fuck did you do that? You didn't even finish high school."

My gaze hardened, and I no longer felt nervous. I was more pissed than anything. "I did a actually, when I was 15. It was a lovely ceremony, I was valedictorian oh and the only person whose family didn't show up."

Dean looked like he was feeling guilty for a moment then his jaw clenched. "You didn't tell us."

"I did actually, multiple times," I shot back.

"Dad, I've got to be at the school tomorrow night. It's graduation, you're coming, right?" I asked tentatively.

My father barely spared me a glance, instead focusing on the TV. "Yeah, yeah."

I glanced to my brothers, Sam was immersed in a book and Dean was watching the TV as well. "You're all coming?" I continued to question hopefully.

"Sure," Dean said distractedly. "Yep," Sam chimed up as if he was only agreeing because everyone else was.

I frowned at their tones but walked to bed nonetheless.

-

"Just reminding you of my graduation tonight," I said eating a spoon full of sludge that was supposedly cereal.

The boys grunted in return.

-

"Don't forget my graduation," I told Dean as he stopped the car in front of the school.

His eyes followed a pretty blonde that walked by. "Uh huh."

-

Graduation, tonight.

I sucked on my lower lip as I stared at the text I had sent on the family group. No one replied.

-

"Come on pick up," I said into the phone.

"It's Sam, leave a message."

"Uh hey Sammy, I've tried calling both Dad and Dean they didn't pick up either. Just wondering where you guys are, I'm going on in ten minutes and I haven't seen you."

-

I walked into the motel, my cheeks were stained with tears stains. I held a box with my awards in my arms.

As I looked around I noticed that my father and the boys were all fast asleep on their beds. I glanced to the fridge where I had left a sticky note. Graduation tonight, don't forget :)

My lower lip trembled and I stormed to the fridge then ripped the note off.

I stared at my brothers as I finished recounting the events, they stared at me mouth agape.

"That's not true," Dean finally said.

Fed up I reached over Sam to the glove compartment and grabbed the box with the phones. I rummaged around for a moment then pulled out my old phone.

I turned it on and went onto the old family group chat. I scrolled through the messages until I found the one I was looking for. I shoved it into Sam's hand. He stared at words displayed on the device.

"And," I reached between the seat that I had claimed as my own all those years ago and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. I shoved that into Sam's hands as well.

The car was silent.

"How'd you complete the classes? I don't remember you running off to college," Dean finally broke the silence. 

I glanced to Sam then swallowed. "Online classes and sneaking off for practicals."

Sam's lips parted and suddenly he looked really guilty. "I didn't even think -" 

"It's fine, you wanted a normal life and online schooling wouldn't have given you that freedom," I cut him off. 

It was silent again. 

"So you've been some big hotshot doctor this entire time and instead of finding some apple pie life, you stayed with us and used your medical degree or whatever to patch us up?" Dean asked as if were the stupidest thing he'd ever heard. 

I shrugged. "Pretty much, yeah."

"Why?" Sam asked this time.

"You guys are family, you don't turn your back on family."

Dean smiled at me softly and Sam looked ready to attack me in a moose attack hug. "Spoken like a true Winchester," Dean told me.

-Cue End Music-

[justasparkwritings]

Illicit Affairs: You Made Me

Previous: Mercurial High 

Pairings: Namjoon & Reader (Barely)

Genre: Angst

Ratings: PG17

Word Count: 2,292

Warnings: Manipulation, Abuse of Power, Swearing, Negotiations and Contracts, Mentions of Alcoholism, Rehab, Therapy 

Summary: Namjoon squares off against Big Hit. There can only be one victor, and if Namjoon has any say, it won’t be Bang or Sejin. 

Listen: illicit affairs by Taylor Swift

          The five members stare at one another, eyes drifting as they catch reflections in the practice room mirrors. Their sweats adorn their bodies, different patterns, materials, weights hang off their frames as they sit, feet toward the center. It’s been weighing on their minds since Yoongi called Jin, who in turn told the rest of the group. They’d planned a time to meet, just the five of them, to discuss what happened, and what should happen next. Rather, what they could do to bide the time before management came down on them. Neither of them had endured a fight like this. Sure, they’d gotten into disagreements with one another, but a full-fledged brawl, with blood spilled over a decade’s long betrayal. They could barely fathom it.

           “Someone has to tell management,” Jimin mutters.

           “Yoongi was home when it happened,” Taehyung suggests.

           “It can’t just be Yoongi, it effects all of us,” Seokjin says.

           “You two are the eldest, can’t you?” Jimin looks at Seokjin and Yoongi, the latter having not uttered a word the entire time they’ve sat looking at each other.

           “It’s our band, our future if they don’t their shit together,” Yoongi says, eyes finally meeting his brothers.

           “How did it start? Why were they fighting?” Taehyung inquires.

           “Too many reasons,” Yoongi responds.

           “Jungkook found out about Namjoon playing God with Kook’s life, in a way Namjoon hadn’t intended, and he went for blood, literally,” Seokjin mutters.

           “How?” Ho-Seok wonders.

           “We were having a conversation about contracts, signing them, and going over the new proclivities. Namjoon was telling us about them, and Jungkook came home, heard it all, and laid in wait for Joon,” Yoongi informs them.

           “Waiting?” Taehyung asks.

           “Not literally, he pounced on Namjoon the second he could,” Yoongi corrects himself.

           “The moment he was drunk enough,” Jimin scoffs.

           “That is also true,” Yoongi agrees. Having been the only one home when the incident happened, besides Namjoon’s girlfriend, he had become the one in charge of passing on the story, one hopefully no one would hear about outside of the seven of them, Bang, Sejin and you.

           “He just came home and hit Joonie?” Taehyung asks, mind still trying to understand what had happened.

           “They had words, and I may have played a small role in it,” Yoongi says, shoulders shrugging.

           “What did you say?” Seokjin demands, all humor gone from his eyes.

           “Say? Didn’t he do something?” Jimin asks.

           “It’s Yoongi, his words cut deeper than any knife,” Ho-Seok says.

           “I said somethings to Kook, a few, nasty things.”

           “You made it worse?” Jin demands.

           “He was going off on Joonie about how he ruined his life, he was acting like a baby, so I called him out,” Yoongi shrugs, unwilling to apologize.

           “You antagonized him,” Seokjin corrects.

           “He had tunnel vision; he was mad at Joon when he should be mad at management. I wanted to deflect some of that anger away from Joon, it was clear Jungkook was going to pound him into a bloody pulp. JK has everything and he was beginning to lose sight of it,” Yoongi’s voice is curt, biting as he explains his decision.

           “He has a right to,” Taehyung says, “He was a child when we started, we all were,”

           “None of us were as young as him, he’s endured the most,” Hobi responds.

           “Some of the things Namjoon did, though, are just horrific,” Yoongi says, eyes blinking quickly.  

           “We’ve all gone through some horrible things at the hands of management,” Jimin says, and they glance at him, all knowing what pains he went through.

           “This feels like a Run episode gone wrong,” Ho-Seok says. “A Mafia game where we’re all casualties.”

           “But none of us are safe from management,” Yoongi adds.

           “Who’s going to tell management?” Taehyung repeats.

           “It should be Jin and Yoongi-hyung, they’re the elders,” Ho-Seok determines, knowing full well a few months and it would’ve been him.

           “We’ll schedule a meeting,” Yoongi agrees.

           “As soon as possible, we can’t get anything done until those two agree to be in the same place,” Ho-Seok says.

           “What do you think will happen?” Taehyung wonders. The members refuse to meet one another’s eye as they sit with the weight of what Namjoon and Jungkook have done.

                                                         ~~~~~~~

           Jungkook and Namjoon can see the steam pouring out of Bang’s ears, doubled by that of his team, fuming at the mouth, ready to pounce. Namjoon sits across from him, with Jungkook to his right. Neither man had looked at the other or been in the same space in the five days that passed after their fight. They rehearsed in separate time slots, they recorded independently, and spent time in living quarters as far away from one another as they could. Jungkook assumed this would go on until the reckoning, Namjoon knew it couldn’t.

          The reckoning, either brought upon them by Bang and Sejin, or by the other members, was sure to result in swift punishment. The members had made their frustration known, going so far as to avoid both men until they figured out their problems, or resigned to the fact that they had to work together, no matter what, and acting like adults was the easiest option. But no one could understand the stubbornness of two Virgos, both ready to accept the fault and none of the blame. Not wanting to pick sides, the five men became cool, barely cordial in the days after. At first it was a trickle, Jimin, Ho-Seok and Taehyung not knowing the extent of the brawl. Then they saw Namjoon, and the maknae became furious with both men. Jungkook for beating up their leader, and Namjoon for taking it lying down. He had the power; couldn’t he have stopped it?

          Sitting in the conference room, Jungkook didn’t know what else Bang could do to him. He already owned his life, every piece of art he’d made, every day for the past decade belonged to him, and Jungkook was broken because of it.

           “We’re here today to discuss the incident between the two of you,” Sejin states, eyes boring holes in their skulls.

           “It wasn’t an incident, it was an outright brawl,” Bang corrects, eyes solely focused on Namjoon. “Namjoon, care to explain?”

           “No sir,” Namjoon shakes his head gently, eyes still down. If he fought Bang and Sejin, he could lose you. If he said something out of character or out of line, he could lose what autonomy he had within BTS and Big Hit. No more producer RM, lyricist RM… just, Namjoon.

           “Jungkook, what caused this major act of defiance?” Bang wants to know.

           “I learned, from Namjoon, that he had been controlling aspects my life for the last few years, and that he was in cahoots with you, about what those things were. He talked about how he had played into my insecurities, how a lot of my tendencies came from him leaning into my ticks. That he was required to by his contract, that he didn’t want to, but had done far worse things than he was willing to admit to,” Jungkook recites, having practiced numerous times in his head, in the shower, any moment he had free.

           “How could you be so careless, Namjoon?” Bang snaps, ice in his tone.

           “I didn’t know, when was this?” Namjoon looks up for the first time, glancing at Jungkook, whose gaze meets his. It’s cold and jagged, frozen in a perpetual moment of anguish.

           “When you, Yoongi-hyung and Jin-hyung were discussing the contract,” Jungkook’s tone is level, honest, even.

           “You were home?” Namjoon whispers.

           “I came in, heard you and left,” Jungkook informs him.

           “To get drunk no doubt,” Bang quips.

           His words ring like fire in Namjoon’s ears and burn Jungkook equally as he glances at Bang.

           “The dive bars you frequent, out of town enough, but not too far that we haven’t heard talk of them,” Bang tells him, “You have nearly destroyed this group and company too many damn times, Jungkook.”

           “You have put your brother’s careers on the line, as well as the success of every other group at Big Hit,” Sejin scolds. “What happens when other Idols hear of your behavior?”

           “What will they do when they get word that BTS’ star, the sun everyone rotates around, has become an alcoholic with a tendency for violence?” Bang ponders.

           “If the media hears about this? You’re lucky you snuck into this room under the cover of masks and hats, otherwise the world would see the damage you did to Namjoon,” Sejin reproaches.

           “You have created a disgusting, destructive habit and now we have to decide what to do with you,” Bang is livid, far past the point of any level of anger Namjoon has ever seen.

           “Just fire me,” Jungkook says, looking the elders in the eye, “Fire me. I’m not enough for you, am I? No matter how much I work, how hard I push my body, my voice, it is never enough for you. I’d bleed for you, you know I would, I have! Instead, you’ve manipulated me like I’m some robot, the Golden Maknae incapable of meeting your demands because you’ve worked me to the bone. I have nothing, I am nothing, and it’s because of the three of you. So, fire me,” Jungkook lays it all on the table.

          He has nothing to lose, and nothing to gain.

           “What would BTS be without you?” Sejin asks.

           “Would they survive?” Bang asks, “He is the crux of the whole thing, the both of them, how could you let this happen?”

           “This is how it happened!” Jungkook yells, standing swiftly, knocking the table against his thighs. “You! You’re why this happened!”

           “How much does he know?” Bang looks at Namjoon, eyes small.  

           “Not everything,”

           “Jungkook, sit down,” Sejin tells him. He maknae does, running a bruised hand through his hair.

           “Yes, we have done things, encouraged you, pushed you towards certain things in order to support your development. Yes, Namjoon was the leader of this, at our request,” Bang starts.

           “It was a demand,” Namjoon corrects.

           “Fine, a demand. You have grown into everything we could’ve hoped for, everything the band needs, what Big Hit needs,” Bang pauses to ensure Jungkook is watching him, “You are the Golden Maknae because we groomed your initial talent, we nurtured it. Sure, we caused some strife-

           “You measured his food for two years. You gave me extra pay every time I convinced him to work out for an extra hour, and you gave Jungkook extra money for extra gym time without his consent. You gave me mantras to repeat around him, ones that stuck in his brain like porcupine needles. You had me switch out his clothes for the same outfit in a smaller size to create this illusion that he wasn’t small enough. You lied to him for a decade, you dosed his drinks you-

           “You what?” Jungkook yells, head snapping up.

           “They dosed your drinks, micro doses of different performance enhancing drugs,” Namjoon’s eyes are black, burning down everything in his sight. He sees it in front of him, his pawn advancing.

           “What?”

           “For, what, a year and a half? Drugs that were easily digestible, didn’t need needles when they could slip it into your coffee,” Namjoon’s eyes are squarely on Bang’s. This is not the reckoning they had in mind. “They gave you food poisoning, when you were eating too much of certain foods. They sent you to the states at the beginning to train, yes, but they told your trainers to demean you so that when you came home, they could build you back up. Every tick, every habit, they’ve controlled.”

           “Kim Namjoon,” Bang’s voice is a warning shot, black queen’s pawn moves two, a counter movement.

           “I am done being your mule. I am done damaging him, I am fucking sick of it. You wanted to ruin him, and you’ve ruined me too. If you want to play games, fine, but do it without me.” Namjoon’s trying to maintain his composure. Bang and Sejin were unaware that Namjoon had crafted his own strategy, his own method to get Jungkook and himself the help they need. His plan, crafted with his love in the wake of the beat down, has to take hold. Bang has to move precisely where he wants him to go in order for the opening to work. Namjoon has to give up everything to gain anything.

           “It’s in your contract.” Bang snaps, rage hot throughout him.

Namjoon snarls, queen sides bishop pawn forward two squares.

           “We will take away your dating privilege.” Sejin adds.

           “I will date her anyway, hell, I’ll marry her tomorrow. I am done being a part of this,” Namjoon declares.

           “You have seven more years of it, Namjoon,” Sejin says, contracts laying flat on the table.

           “Then come up with a plan B,” Namjoon responds, eyes still on them.

           Namjoon recognizes the look in their eyes: defeat. It’s the look he gave Jungkook as he spit at him, the wanton gaze that signifies whatever end game they had in mind will no longer work. Namjoon is no longer playing on their side, making moves to support their goal, abandoning his brothers for more hurt than growth, destroying his family like black mold, slowly seeping into every aspect of their lives, killing them. He no longer watches their moves and shifts to accommodate. No, no, the board’s been wiped clean, the pieces reset, and Namjoon is on the attack. His pieces perfectly in place, Namjoon is advancing, whether or not Bang realizes, his upper hand is gone. This is no longer a negotiation, a reckoning, but a decree. This, this is the queen’s gambit. And Namjoon will be the victor.

Next: Beautiful Rooms Pt. 1

[ayo-cowbelly]

The Things We Do For Love ~ Part Two

previous part ~ next part ~ masterlist

FIRST OF ALL: I’d recommend listening to music during this one. Here are my choices, but it’s not required (don’t have to listen to all of them):

my tears ricochet by Taylor Swift. Found here.

Ghost of You by 5SOS. here is the link.

Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down) by Nancy Sinatra. Can be found here.

Someone You Loved by Lewis Capaldi, found here.

All songs available on iTunes and I think Spotify as well.

Oh, by the way: completely made up the story of Aayla getting her kyber crystal. There wasn’t a canonical one i could find in a quick google search (yes, i know, didn’t put in much effort searching for it, sue me) so i decided to make up my own for the plot™. 

I cried writing this, people. There are tears falling. Not joking. This cuts DEEP. I promised angst™ and I am following through *cackles in palpatine*. this is meant to hurt, and oh boy, it definitely hurts.

So… have fun lovelies.

***

Cody was very, very grateful his Jedi survived. 

Most, like Bly, were not so lucky. 

***

Bly had mixed feelings about Felucia. 

First of all, it was hot. And humid. And smelly (even with his helmet on). That combination, plus having to fight all day on top of that, did not put Felucia on the list of Bly’s preferred planets. 

Though… there was a slight upside. 

He liked to look at the plants. They were bizarre, sure, but the colors. Bly always had an appreciation for color. Growing up on Kamino, where everything was sterile and white and cold... the first time Bly left that planet and saw Coruscant, he was astounded at how bright and warm different shades could be. 

And then he saw Aayla, and she gave a whole new meaning to the color blue. 

Aayla was warm, but professional; spirited, but calm. And positively beautiful. 

He had practically fallen head over heels the first time they talked (even though he had no idea what to call this sudden, powerful feeling in him). His brothers, of course, took it upon themselves to tease him mercilessly; but what they didn’t know was a tidbit of information that always took Bly by surprise, no matter how many times he heard it. 

She felt the same way. 

***

It started about 3 months after the crash on Maridun, when even though nothing had happened yet, it was apparently painfully obvious there was something there. Rex had noticed, at least, and decided to tell Bly’s batchmates when they saw each other at 79’s.

Bly just couldn’t catch a break. 

But then, when their battalion had been stationed on Ilum (due to rumors of the droids targeting the caves where Jedi got their kyber crystals) and him and Aayla had stayed up late, sitting on either side of a small fire, and Aayla told the tale of how she got her crystal. 

“It’s called The Gathering. We are told it is when we truly begin our paths as Jedi. I was freezing, and nervous that somehow I’d mess it up. Ironic, considering what the lesson is about; getting over our personal fears. I was worried that I wouldn’t make it in time- we are given only a few hours, and when daylight ends, the door to the crystal cave freezes over again. If someone was trapped inside, they’d be stuck in there for 19 days, until the sun rises again. 

“Along with Master Yoda, six of us were sent off to this very planet, and there is no place more sacred to our Order. This is where we locate the heart of our lightsabers.” 

“How do you get the crystal, exactly?” Bly had asked, genuinely interested. 

Aayla smiled fondly, reminiscing. “Some might say our crystals are sentient, in a way. They call out to us in the caves. Only we know which one is ours. There is a powerful convergence in the Force there, causing it to be intensified. It exploits the insecurities of a person, exposing our weaknesses. If we successfully overcome these shortcomings, then we obtain our crystal.”

“What happens if you don’t pass the test?” 

“It is said that fear, self-doubt, they consume you. This can prevent someone from finding their crystal.” 

“That sounds like a very… taxing experience, to say the least, General.” Bly looked at her then, and saw her laugh slightly, and his heart stuttered. That unknown feeling rose up in him again, until he tamped it down. 

“It is, but a good one all the same.” 

He smiled at her. “So, how did your test go?” 

“Like I said, I was nervous-”

“Since when are you nervous about anything, General?”

“Call me Aayla, please, Bly, it’s just the two of us,” the way she smiled at him then… it made his heart swim. “And I tell you, I was terrified. I hoped it’d be easy, and figured if I just ran ahead I’d find it soon enough. And of course, that didn’t happen.” 

Aayla jogged through the labyrinth, careful not to slip. The icy atmosphere of the cave overtook her, and she felt like she would freeze. At least running kept her somewhat warm. 

She had ended up on her own a while ago, wanting to take control of this experience and just get the crystal on her own. Aayla wanted it to be over. It was too cold, and she didn’t want to fail and be trapped. Get in, get the crystal, get out, she told herself. 

Her instincts told her to make a right turn, and she came upon a small gap in the ice at the end, just big enough for her to get through. She debated whether or not she should enter, but the Force seemed to sing around her when she neared it.

She squeezed through the opening, and on the other side, there was a small clearing. In the middle, a mound of ice rose from the floor, about up to her hips. Something glowed at the top, and the Force got louder, more insistent. It must be her crystal. 

When she went to grab it, the crystal remained stuck within the ice. As she pulled, it stayed firmly in place.

When she tried to pull on the crystal with the Force, it only seemed to sink deeper into the ice, somehow. How was she to get the crystal if it wouldn’t move when she wanted it to? 

What if it doesn’t come out? Aayla asked herself. She had been in the crystal cave for a good amount of time, and she didn’t have forever. Her time would be up soon. 

Rolling on her heels, she looked back at the gap that would lead her back to the main part of the maze. She grew more and more upset, her stomach churning. The stupid ice wouldn’t budge! The door would be closed soon, and she’d be trapped, and she’d fail-

No. Aayla had to trust in the Force. There must be a way to obtain the crystal, of this she was positive. She just had to figure out how. She’d have to calm herself to think clearly. 

Easier said than done. 

Taking deep breaths, Aayla reached out into the Force. If a part of her doubted this being her kyber crystal before, it didn’t now. The Force felt like it was smiling around her, somehow. Despite the cold of the cave, she felt warm. A thin thread existed between her and the crystal, and the Force trilled in her ear when she felt it. 

She closed her eyes. The Force would guide her. 

The warm feeling seemed to grow, washing through her and swirling around her in the air. Aayla’s lips turned up slightly, and she felt the brightness of the Force around her. 

There was a vague cracking sound, and she heard whistling fill the room. Slowly opening her eyes, Aayla was blown away at the sight in front of her. 

She watched, transfixed, as the crystal glowed brighter and brighter. The ice had broken, the pieces floating in the air. The kyber crystal levitated, an alluring blue shade. 

Aayla approached and grabbed the crystal, smiling giddily. She had done it. 

She squeezed back through the gap and walked calmly (well, more like speed walked, but she did it calmly) and exited the cave. 

“That was the first time I realized that sometimes you have to give up control to think clearly. Stressing will not achieve anything. Trusting in others, in the Force, having faith that they will guide you; that is how we can move forward.” 

“So, the Force guides you? It tells you things you need to know?” 

“In a way. It’s like… a feeling. Not something tangible, really, but a sort of presence that leads you where you need to go. It’s hard to get a clear answer, most of the time.” 

Bly wondered... “Can it do the same for people?”

“Yes, sometimes,” She looked up at him, with something in her eyes that he couldn’t place, but took his breath away all the same. 

“And… what does it say about me?” He asked, quietly, not wanting to ruin this moment. 

“Like I said, it’s hard to get a clear answer from the Force,” Aayla moved to sit by him, a soft expression on her face. She looked into his eyes, closer to him than she had ever been… if she moved a fraction, then… 

“But with you, it’s never felt more right.” She placed her lips on his, and the feeling in his chest finally had a name. 

Love. 

***

They trekked through Felucia, Aayla in front, as always. She was used to it, now, after three years in this war. 

At first, it had been stressful, which was to be expected. She didn’t know how to lead a whole battalion, how to fight a war, how to deal with the trauma said war brought. However, she always had Bly. 

Aayla loved him fiercely, and made sure to tell him whenever she could. He was brave, and dedicated, and strong, and she was eternally thankful for him. For the joy he brought her. 

And soon, in a few months, there’d be one more person they’d care for just as much. She had known for about a month. And Bly, knowing her so well after all this time, had suspected something was up. When she told him, she had never seen someone smile so wide. The pure happiness he projected into the Force was something she had only ever felt with him. 

Thankfully, she wasn’t showing yet, meaning she still had time to figure out a long term plan. Of course, there had been some rumors that the war would be over soon, which hopefully were true. Aayla and Bly had decided that they’d leave together, go somewhere peaceful, where they could simply live. Just her, him, and their child. 

Aayla paused, sensing something… off filling the Force. Suddenly, she couldn’t sense her Commander, his presence different, like everything that made him Bly was gone. 

“Do you think it’s droids, Bly?” She asked tentatively, knowing that wasn’t the answer, but it was the only thing she could think of. 

“No.” 

The voice that answered her was not Bly. It was not the voice of the man she loved, of her riduur. It was a stranger, both in person and in the Force. 

Aayla glanced around, seeing her troopers circling her. Confusion, uncertainty, fear... (something she had never felt around her men- something she never should have known around them, around him) they raced through her. She looked to Bly, as she always did, and back to the men… 

And then pain, hurt, betrayal, both hers and the Force’s, they consumed her. Her last thoughts were of Bly, of their child. 

Aayla knew she would die, as her troopers shot her continuously. She apologized to her unborn baby, who, in another life, she would have given all her love to. 

As she already did for him. 

***

When Bly came to (not came to, as that would imply he was unconscious, and he most definitely was not) he was met with his worst nightmare. 

Aayla’s body, limp on the ground, her back covered in blaster wounds. The vibrant blue skin was barely visible, covered in smoking, gray holes- 

He had put them there. 

No. 

He- he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t. Never. 

But he already had. He had seen it. Watched it. 

It was like Bly was trapped in a cell, unable to escape. CC-5052 had taken over his body, casting him aside. He heard her voice, but he couldn’t make out what she said. Though it was laced with… fear. That much he could understand.

Run, Aayla, Please, he shouted, though nothing came out. Run, and don’t look back. But she didn’t run.

The only sound that escaped him was a voice that wasn’t his own, saying just one word, the last word she’d ever hear from him- 

He watched from inside his mind as he (but not him, he would never, please, please no, AAYLA-) raised his weapon and fired. 

In his head, he pounded on the cell and screamed.

*** 

Bly watched from the side as two troopers covered Aayla’s body with a blanket. None of them could stand to look at her, at what they’d done, but they couldn’t leave her. She’d never leave them if their roles were flipped. 

Except they weren’t flipped. She would never kill them, let alone hurt them, and she had trusted them not to- 

Dark thoughts filled his head. But he didn’t have the strength to push them away. They were true, after all. 

He killed her. And their child. The two things he loved most in this galaxy were destroyed by his own hands. 

And any future he had dreamt of went with them. 

*** 

The 327th stayed on Felucia for that night and the next, trying to figure out what they were to do. The holonet said the war was over, that the Separatists were no more, that the Republic was an Empire now… and the Jedi were traitors. 

But they weren’t. They were protectors. They protected the Republic, protected their troops- who had been the ones to shoot them down-

The men were also trying to give Bly some space before bringing up any future plans. They had all known that something was going on between him and the General. It was they way they looked at each other; even the newest shiny could see the thinly veiled love in their eyes. Nobody ever mentioned it, out of respect, but they knew- 

And if anyone didn’t, they figured it out at seeing his reaction to her body.

Bly collapsed on his knees next to her, ripping his helmet off, mumbling incoherently. All the other men could hear clearly was her name, over and over. 

He pulled her close, turning her over, running his hands over her face and body, tears spilling down his face as he held his riduur. 

“Aayla- no- please-” His voice cracked, his body shuddering. 

The others walked over, some putting their hands on his shoulders, some kneeling close by, others bowing their heads as their Commander- no, their brother- shattered.

Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la.

Not gone, merely marching far away.  

***

I’m sorry. 

Also, this story will actually have five parts. So… stay tuned! If you want to be added to the taglist, let me know.

Taglist:

@likeshootingstarsinthenightsky (you are amazing!! your comments give me life)

@cacodaemonia (again, tumblr won’t let me tag you, I don’t know why but your blog won’t show up when i try to tag, very sorry)

[onefourjisung]

Levanter (Stray Kids Bang Chan)

Prompt: Reader has been Bang Chan's friend since they started training together, but its time for them to part ways as they both chase their dreams in different paths. (fem reader, idol-trainee au)

Warnings: A teeny bit of angst

Word count: 1,662

You and Bang Chan have known each other since you were both in your early teens. You both along with BamBam started training at JYP Entertainment around the same time, leaving your previous life behind in your home countries to pursue your childhood dreams. The first time you met Bang Chan and BamBam, the three of you hit it off straight away. Not many trainees started as young as you three did, so you both stuck to each others' sides because no one understood you as much as each other.

Time rolled by, BamBam became the first one out of you to debut with GOT7, at only 16. You and Bang Chan were one of the first people to congratulate him, despite of the somber mood that came from knowing that from that point on he will be too busy to hang out with you as much as he used to. After BamBam's debut, you and Bang Chan became even closer. You both protected each other like guard dogs in fear of the inevitable.

2016, four years after you started training, JYP put you in a trainee line up preparing for a debut survival show called Sixteen. To say you were excited was an understatement, you practiced harder, stayed in the studio for longer, even sometimes forgetting to eat and rest. And when you expectedly broke down, Bang Chan was ready by your side, picking up your pieces with sweet hugs and motivational words until you were ready to stand back up again.

However, only a week before the show started shooting, you accidentally broke your ankle in the middle of a dance practice. This unfortunately led to you being cut off from the trainee line up and was replaced by the youngest trainee, Natty.

Understandably, you were way more than upset. And again, Bang Chan was beside you like always. The moment he heard of what happened, he dropped all things and was ready to console and take care of his best friend.

Debut opportunities came and went for you, you auditioned for Produce101 with Somi but you didn't even make it to the 101 trainees line up while your younger friend ended up as the center of the debuted group. You wanted to join Produce48 but your agency was against it so there was not much you can do.

And then one day, JYP announced a new untitled survival show you were chosen to participate in along with the other trainees. The end goal was to decide which group will debut between the male trainees and the female trainees. The night after the survival proposal announcement, you and Bang Chan went to get dinner together. A sentence he said stuck to you to this day, "friendships are friendships and work is work, right? Lets do our best, (y/n). And I hope luck is with the both of us."

Luck decided to only be on one of your side. And that's Chan's. As all of the trainees stepped down the showcase's stage, Bang Chan caught up to you in silence.

You smiled at your friend. "Congratulations, Chan, I mean it."

"Thank you." He returned the smile with a slight sigh, "(y/n), I-"

"Friendships are friendships and work is work, remember? I'll see you on the other side, the debuted idols' side." You patted his back with a light chuckle before catching up to your the other female trainees.

You missed Bang Chan's teary gaze as his eyes followed your figure until you disappeared from his sight.

Never wanted anything as much as you.

Never crossed my mind that I could ever lose.

---------------

You watched as the screen of your phone turned black for a split second before Stray Kids' logo appeared on it along with the writing "This stream has ended, waiting for replay."

You pressed your home button and opened KakaoTalk before choosing Bang Chan's contact name.

y/n: are u busy?

🍞chris: nope, about to head back to the dorm

🍞chris: whats up?

y/n: wait up

y/n: im coming to your studio

y/n: i need to talk to you about something

🍞 chris: uh,, okay?

🍞 chris: should i be scared?

[✓Read]

You timidly knocked on the door on Chan's studio before letting yourself in, closing the door behind you. Chan smiled at your arrival, putting down his phone.

"Hey, (y/n)!" He greeted cheerfully as he put his ukulele back in to it's case.

"Hi, Chan." You smiled. "I watched your VLive, might wanna work on your ukulele a bit more," you joked.

His laugh boomed across the small studio. "I know, I know. My little brother would be ashamed if he saw that."

"Oh yeah, definitely," you smiled teasingly, "he texted me, said he's about to disown you from the family."

"Hey!" He mocked offence. "Excuse you, I'm the one who brings food to Berry's table."

You chuckled. "Yea, yea, suit yourself Mr. Best-Leader,"

Bang Chan put down his ukulele as he finally gave you his full attention. "So, did you come here only to mock my ukulele playing skills or is there something else you wanna talk about?"

You sighed as your smile flattered in to a sad one. "Yeah, about that,"

"Is everything okay, (y/n)?" Chan tilted his head slightly in concern to your sudden change of mood.

"Sort of, but not really." You said truthfully.

"What is it?"

There was a few seconds of silence before you responded. "I'm leaving, Chan."

Surprise and disbelief was written all over his face when he let out a whisper, "wh- what?"

You nervously ran a hand through your hair. "I- I'm leaving JYP-"

"But why?" Chan cut you off.

"It's been almost 10 years, Chan. I have been a trainee for almost ten years and theres still no signs of me debuting soon," you made eye contact with the shocked boy in front of you.

"That's not true!" He argued.

"Yeah?" You chuckled bitterly. "I stayed because I thought at least they would consider debuting me with ITZY, but they didn't even bat an eye because apparently I 'don't fit the concept'. The younger kids are already debuting, the future groups are just gonna be younger and younger-"

"You can debut as a solo artist?" He cut you off once again.

"And how big is the chance for me to be a solo artist, huh?" You bit back. "Chan, I got an offer in another agency, a really promising one at that. It might not be as big as JYPE but it'll do."

Bang Chan could do nothing other than stare at you, drowning in his own thoughts.

"I'm tired of being hung by a thread like this, Chan. It was not an easy decision for me either but I've made up my mind." You softly said, letting your head down as you switched your focus to the carpeted floor.

Bang Chan finally snapped out of his train of thoughts as he raised from his seat before quickly hugging you tighter than he ever had.

"Okay," he sighed. "I understand where you're coming from. I guess- I don't know, it's just so sudden,"

"I'm sorry," you returned the hug. "I just wanted to tell you personally before you leave for your world tour,"

Chan pulled away from the hug and brought one of his hand to your face, making you look at him. "I'll see you on the other side, yeah?" He smiled softly.

You nodded. "The debuted idols' side."

Oh, this is the end of the road

Oh, I'm holding out for a new hope

'Cause it's the darkest of all before the dawn

--------------

"And the award for Rookie of The Year goes to-"

The seconds ticked slowly as the MC opened the envelope. You and your members' clammy hands taut together tightly as you silently prayed for the best outcome.

"EXACT! Congratulations!!"

Your mouth fell agape, in the corner of your eyes you saw some of your members sprung up from their chairs in joy. The loud screams of your fans filled the stadium when the member beside you tugged on your hand slightly.

"(y/n), let's go," she beamed at you, gesturing to the stage with a nod of her head.

You recollected yourself before fixing your skirt as you walked towards the stage, thunderous claps and cheers ringing in your ears.

The MC passed the golden trophy on to your teammates and you stepped up to the mic. You began your thank you speech on the behalf of your group as the leader. You thanked your members, family and friends, the agency, and also your fans. However, you couldn't help but choke up in the middle of your speech, wrapping it up with a final group greeting with a couple of tears slipping past your eyelashes.

You let a few more tears fall when you slipped off backstage. You and your members were taking pictures with the trophy when a bunch of familiar faces turned the corner in to the hallway you were in.

"(y/n) noona!" Jisung let out a happy shrill when his eyes found yours.

"Hi, Jisung," you chuckled at your old friend's antics as the rest of Stray Kids stepped in to sight, preparing for their upcoming performance.

After both your group and Stray Kids formally greeted each other, you slipped past the other's attention as Bang Chan pulled you aside.

"I haven't gotten the chance of saying this to you personally so, congratulations on your debut, (y/n)." Bang Chan smiled at you. "And the award too, of course."

"Thank you, Chan." You replied. "Thank you for always sticking by my side, couldn't have done it without you,"

"No, no, no." He shook his head cutely. "This was all you, take some credit,"

You giggled. "Right,"

"I'm proud of you." Bang Chan hugged you as he whispered softly, "we finally meet on the other side after all, huh?"

And now that I left it all behind me

I'm flying high, I'm flying high

[juicylivy]

Comfort

Pairings: Yang Jeongin x Bang Chan

Genre: fluff, angst.

Words: 2.4k

Summary

Jeongin has a horrible nightmare, luckily his boyfriend and members are there him.

────────•°•❀•°•─────────

Sleep. It was something that Jeongin liked a lot. Falling into that deep state of mind, where you entered your own alternate universe. It's as if, you've left your own body, but you're still breathing. It's an escape from everything and a thing that calms the mind. Though at that moment it wasn't to him.

He was standing in the middle of a big empty house, filled with furniturs, picture frames hanging on the walls, and different types of plants placed all around the facility. It was a place that should've been filled with the laughter and joy from a sweet family, but it was deserted - not a single sound was heard in that spacious mansion. This was weird. Why was it so silent? Jeongin turned around several times, trying to look for his members. Tried to look for Minho, HyunJin, and Jisung in the living room playing video games, find his boyfriend Chan in his studio working on a track with Changbin, ran towards the kitchen to perhaps see Seungmin looking through the fridge for what could be edible, and Felix who always sat at the table in the dining room, either playing on his phone or writing lyrics. But none of them were to be seen - where were they? Everything was a sad grey color and  A note sat on the kitchen aisle, Chan's neat handwriting scribbled across the white piece of paper. He sighed in relief, thinking that they had gone shopping for groceries, or snacks that they had almost run out off. He also thought that his sweet boyfriend could've found some sort of prank to pull on him. But when he began reading the note, he saw that, that wasn't the case.

"Innie, dearest Jeongin. This is a goodbye letter. JYP-nim couldn't see you fit for the task as the 8th member of Stray Kids anymore due to your lack of enthusiasm and hardwork and honestly, we thought the same. We couldn't picture you in this group anymore because of it. And... This is gonna be heartbreaking and I'm so sorry, but Innie, this is also a goodbye to our 2 years long relationship. It just doesn't feel right anymore for me - you must've felt it too. The spark has died down and trying to keep us together would be a waste of both of our times... I'm sorry Innie, but this is goodbye."

A great shot of shock and immense surprise ran through his body all at once. Thoughts left his mind and he stared into distance. He knew he was lacking in the new comeback, he knew he had some trouble remembering the new dances and with the recording of their new tracks too m, but was that really something he could be thrown out of the group for? Was this a good enough reason for his members, whom he saw as brothers, to agree and leave him without a notice? And most importantly, how was it that Chan suddenly decided to also abandon him? As his leader, lover, and best friend, it was kind of his job to try and find some way to keep him in the group. He knew how much he valued them all and his career.

It had to be a dream. Something as shallow as this couldn't be anything other than a bad dream. He shook off the shock, determined to try and escape this reality. Pain was said to be a good way to break out from a dream, so he tried pinching his arm as hard as he could, and winced as the pain filled his lower left arm. It didn't work. He tried once more, but with biting instead, but that wasn’t helping either. He tried repeatedly with various forms of ways to inflict injuries, but to no avail. He couldn't wake up.

At last he gave up and sat down on the floor up against the wall that connected the living room and the kitchen. Could this be real? Did everyone actually leave him alone? At this point it seemed to be true. He was indeed all by himself.

Slowly the discovery settled in his heart and it broke into tiny puzzle pieces scattered on the floor, not able to be put back together. His body began to shake softly as the tears started running down his face. How had it come to this? After those two years of being a group, after the struggle they all had to go through to debut, they'd seriously get him out of the group, and their lives, just like that? Soon the grief got too great and he couldn't handle it anymore, resulting in him beginning to sob uncontrollably. He wished he could turn everything around and been more into the dance practices and shown more enthusiasm with recording. He wished he could've saved his and Chan's relationship, and seen that the spark was dying. What was he supposed to do now? He was all by himself in that huge empty place with no sounds and-

“Jeongin!”

Someone was yelling for him... What? Gradually the scenery faded, morphing into a blur.

"Innie!" Chan screamed for him, shaking his body vigorously.

Jeongin shot up in bed, tears streaming down his face and little sobs leaving his mouth. He frantically tossed and turned trying to see if he had finally escaped the horror that was his dream.

He had.

Everyone was sat around his bed in his and Jisung's room, worry plastered on their faces. Chan was right in front of him, tears in his eyes. He let out a loud cry and flew forward to cling onto his lover in such a harsh way, Chan ended up coughing.

"Channie!" He cried out. Never in his life had he been so glad to see him.

"Shh, Innie. I'm right here, love," Chan soothed and rubbed his back comfortingly. His was voice groggy from seeing his boyfriend cry out so loudly in his sleep. The others chimed in sitting all around him in his bed, hugging him and telling him reassuring and loving words. Little by little, his crying died down, and he could breath now without hiccuping. Inhaling Chan's sweet cologne helped him calm down entirely and he was at last back to normal. His boyfriend released him from the embrace slowly and stared into his red eyes, a little soft smile displaying on his face.

"Baby, what happened?" He asked with a honey like tone to his voice and caressed Jeongin's cheek.

"Yeah: You got us all terrified there," Changbin said sounding distressed from the left, being one to hug him from behind.

"I almost lost it when I saw you crying here, and not being able to wake you up," Jisung explained, his voice equally as groggy as Chan's, but also saddened. His face dropped a bit, hearing what they felt - he had made them all wake up in the middle of the night, because he had a nightmare. Sure there was nothing he could do about it, but it didn’t feel nice.

Jeongin sighed and gathered up his strength and courage to talk about his horrifying dream. While explaining the dream slowly the room was completely silent, everybody listening thoroughly and patiently to his stammering story of his nightmare. He was feeling awkward talking about it so soon after, but he'd have to tell his brothers this eventually and the fastest way to get over something was to talk it out with someone.

When he finished speaking he looked down at his legs, fidgeting with his fingers. He felt a little uncomfortable with everyone being so quiet and looking at him, but it didn't last long until everybody began to aggressively show him love and affection, giving him all sorts of comforting words and reassurances.

"That's absurd! Stray Kids isn't whole without you! And throwing you out of the group just because you didn't show too much enthusiasm is dumb and shallow." Minho looked angry and perplexed, but his voice was emitting reason and care towards him as he sat in front of him with his feet in his lap. Jeongin was a little taken aback by his exclamation, but ended up smiling, because he knew that Minho didn't intend to invalidate his feelings. He was only sad and hurt by the dream Jeongin had and it was only reasonable he felt that way. 

"Yeah, and Jeongin, we would never agree to such stupid logic. You're one of us and that's how it'll be. We all know that you love us, so if you had difficulties, we would at least try to help you out of it, since we love you too." Seungmin explained, sitting down beside his right hip on the floor, smiling sweetly up at him. He grinned shyly at his words; it was unusual for Seungmin to be that soft. Though he was affectionate around him and a person he could lean on.

"Exactly. You're our maknae, our bean worm, and as your big brothers, who love you, we will always protect you and support you." Felix tightened his arms around his waist, leaning his chin on his shoulder. Jeongin laughed wholeheartedly at the nickname and his worries began fading.

"Baby." Jeongin immediately turned his attention to Chan sitting in front of him, his hands holding his hips. He turned bright red at the adorning look his boyfriend's face held, his deep brown eyes filled with love only for him. "You know I love you more than anything, right?" He carefully nodded while holding eye contact. "Then you know, I wouldn’t leave you. I don't want to be without you, so if you should go away, I would go with you. I'll always be yours and by your side, my love."

Jeongin grinned, being filled with happiness. He knew that, but after what happened just minutes ago, this was what he needed to hear. He leaned forward, pulling Felix and Changbin with him, and pressed his forehead against Chan’s. Both of them were smiling, also when they shared a loving kiss, getting gag sounds and applauds.

“Does this mean we’ll have a sleepover in the living room?” HyunJin asked hopefully, looking around at the boys. Laughter erupted among them at his cute question, but all sprang up and began gathering mattresses, duvets, and pillows. Chan and Jeongin waited with joining them and stood up in each other’s arms. Jeongin’s head was leaned against Chan’s shoulder, arms around his torso. He was getting lost in his embrace until he spoke up.

“I love you, baby. Remember that, if you get another dream about me leaving you, or whatever the situation should be. Just know, that it won’t happen. I won’t leave you.” Jeongin looked up and smiled at him.

“I love you too, Channie. Always. And I’ll try to remember it,” he replied and Chan planted his lips firmly on his again. The kiss was more passionate than any other they had shared, and Jeobgin could feel it all over his body. When they finally broke apart, they took each other’s hands and walked out to the others in the living room.

Chan never left his side. Not even while preparing the sleeping area in the room. When he had to go get more pillows, because they lacked a few, he’d go with him, when he’d get some snacks from the kitchen to cozying up with before bed, Chan was right behind him. He was like his little puppy, and Jeongin loved it. He loved being cared for this much. It filled him with security and joy to know this talented, caring, and loving man was his and his alone.

Settling down into the large fluffy bed that was made in the living room was heavenly. He felt so safe lying in between his brothers and with Chan hugging him from behind. The others were having small talks while eating the chips and candies.

“Thanks guys...” Jeongin spoke up weakly from under the blankets. The members shut up immediately upon hearing his voice and turned to him looking shocked. “Thanks for doing this for me. I really appreciate it.”

“Anytime man, we love you!” HyunJin giggled, showing him his famous eye smile and Jeongin couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight.

“No need to thank us. We did this because we wanted to help you and make you feel comfortable, but you’re welcome our sweet Maknae!” Jisung replied patting his legs.

“And honestly this also gave us the opportunity to have this sleepover here. I’ve really missed this; all of us being together this close,” Changbin said thoughtfully, making people snicker. “Not that we need you to have more nightmares for us to sleep here, but you know!” He quickly saved and everybody began laughing loudly. They started teasing him, making him whine.

“Thanks Changbin,” Jeongin said after they’ve calmed down. Changbin smiled warmly at him and nodded.

“Always here for you, bro.” He pulled out his fist and he bumped it, making the explosion afterwards.

They all decided to sleep to get ready for tomorrow’s work and everyone settled closely together, no one left uncuddled. Jeongin turned around in Chan’s embrace and placed his head on his chest.

“Goodnight Innie,” Chan huskily said, the others tuning in.

“Goodnight everyone.”

This turned out to be the best night he’d had in a while, despite the horrible dream he had.

——

Stray Kids’ manager was walking up the stairs towards the front door of their dorm, early in the morning, making sure the Kids got up and ready for the day. He sighed as he turned the key in the lock and opened the door. It had been a rough night for him and waking up today was hard.

As he was about to yell out a good morning throughout the dorm, he was met with an endearing sight, he hadn’t seen in a long time; the boys had gathered around in the living room, on a huge self-made bed, all sprawled up on each other’s bodies. Warmth spread out in his heart at the view which resulted in an equally warm smile to appear on his face. Something must’ve happened last night to make this happen, because they hadn’t done this in a long time.

Thinking this thought he figured he’d give them the sleep they needed, and he could also use a little rest, leading to him taking a pillow that had been thrown out from the bed and a blanket and lay on the couch above them.

He whispered a small: “sleep well.” and went to sleep alongside them                 

[lightningcritter]

My friends, there is no one I would rather go into battle with

Summary:            

“We leave no one behind.” Ladybug declares in a conspiratorial whisper as she drapes her arms over Viperion and Le Chat Noir’s shoulders, leaning in. Her brilliant, genetically impossible blue eyes burn brightly in the sunrise, magnetic in their determination, compassion and cleverness. Their leader.

“Of course.” Viperion breathes, his small smile widening as he throws an arm around Ryuko’s shoulders, his breathing calm and confident despite their situation. She smirks, her teeth a brilliant flash of white in the dark room, her amber eyes shining molten gold in the rising sunlight with an unwavering strength, the very defiance that spurred them to action in their darkest days.

Rena Rouge and Carapace share genuine, yet roguish grins as they clap arms over each other’s shoulders. Their muscles are coiled with power, their grips unyielding and firm, grounding everyone in their team. Chat Noir squeezes Carapace’s forearm, his glowing green eyes a comfort to everyone who looks at him.

“On to a new day.” Ladybug says, watching as the sun rises to bathe them in a faint golden glow, her voice hard. “A new fight. We stand our ground.” She takes a moment to look between every member of her team, her face softening. “You are the best team I could ask for.”

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28440024/chapters/69691914

Hello! I'm sorry for posting it so late. Happy Holidays! @tiredaroaceperson  @mlsecretsanta ​ This is more of a found family focused piece with a little bit of angst, a little bit of fluff and a lot of action!! I hope you enjoy it :DD

This does take place during the winter and close to Christmas so dw! The first chapter is a flashback.

Chapter 1: Enter the Dragon

"Can you see all of Paris from the Eiffel Tower?"

A small hum replies.

“The Eiffel Tower is at least 300 metres tall, Katsuo-kun, but I don’t know if you can see all of Paris. It’s not a small city. Speak French, you need to practice it”

“It feels a lot smaller than Tokyo.”

Kagami couldn’t help but disagree. While Tokyo has towering skyscrapers and buildings of all sizes, the blaring colors of neon signs, never-ending stream of crowds and clustering shops and restaurants stacked over each other felt much more crowded and cramped than the wide expanse of Parisian skies. Everything felt so much more open and freeing. Even in cramped areas with winding chimneys and towers of gray brick and multistorey grey-blue roofs, the sky was never fully covered and felt so free.

If anything, the only complaint she really had about their move to Paris is the smell of Canal Saint-Martin. It’s the worst in the summer, especially when there is little breeze. Such as today. She squints at the overly sunny day today and wonders if she should ask Katsuo if he wants ice cream.

“I wanna see it!" Kagami looks down from the sky to Katsuo’s finger, smiling when she realizes he was pointing at the Eiffel Tower in the back. It truly is beautiful, especially at night. Kagami sometimes wonders what it’d be like to be at the very top, fingers braced against the thin railing, the wind buffeting her clothes. How free that would feel? Or would it feel scary, like you might be blown away the moment you relax your clenched hands, caught in a storm that sprung on you without your permission, a loss of control that you can only numb yourself to?

"I will discuss with mother and father so we can all go together another day. If we go right now, you’ll be too scared to come back down and cause another scene.”

Kagami can’t help but laugh at Katsuo’s whine as he suddenly stops on the sidewalk. He does his impression of a frown, his adorably chubby cheeks squished to his chest as he crosses his arms petulantly.

"Oh? Are we conveniently forgetting yesterday’s ferris wheel now?" Kagami mimics her brother as she also crosses her arms. His eyebrows furrow inward at her lack of sympathy and he frowns more, stubbornly shuffling to turn his back to her, his arms tightening in his stance.

Kagami hides an unladylike snort that as she circles to his other side, unable to resist a smile. “Don’t you remember? You got so scared-” She follows him as Katsuo shuffles to turn his back to her again. “-That you wouldn’t let go of the pole until mother arrived!” A slight giggle weasels its way into her speaking. “You went on two extra rides for no reason!”

“But the Eiffel Tower isn’t moving, it’s just a dumb triangle.” He mumbles and Kagami ruffles her brother's hair, now broadly smiling as he whines and bats at her hand.

"Don’t worry, another day  otouto. ” She promises. Katsuo peeks up at her from behind his bangs. “Why don’t we stop frowning and pet Maron?”

Katsuo quickly relents, gleefully squatting to gently pet the tiny white dog. Kagami felt a bit of pride fill her heart when he carefully pets Maron the way Kagami had shown him. Said dog stopped to investigate a lampstand, sniffing at it curiously, floppy ear flicking.

"What's convently?" He asks, giggling at the way his fingers disappeared into the soft fur.

"Conveniently. It means to do something that takes little effort." Kagami gently tugs at the leash as she takes his hand and pulls Katsuo away from the lampstand. Maron starts barking at it and Kagami sighs, tugging more insistently.

"Maron, we need to go, your barking is going to.."

A large boom shakes the ground, effectively cutting off whatever she was going to say. While large booms were alarming in general, this one didn't sound too far off. The part of her brain that was used to quick thinking estimated that it was maybe two streets away. Other pedestrians around her were also stopping, and most were already on-guard and straining to hear tell-tale sounds of fighting. While akuma appearances usually happened at night or evenings, it wasn't unheard of for them to activate during the day. Maron' barking seemed much louder as the chatter of Parisian streets stopped, the tiny yaps magnified in the silence, filling the tense air.

"Kagami?" Katsuo asks, squeezing her hand as he steps closer, his other hand fisting into her red varsity jacket. Kagami feels her heart pounding as there was another boom, sounding even closer this time. Katsuo whimpers. A couple cafe signs fell to the ground and potted flowers were sent crashing to the ground. Some people screamed, but it quickly quieted in the suffocating stillness as palpable fear hung in the air.

There were faint screaming and deafening sirens, and a blinding flash of magical light.

Definitely an akuma.

She quickly squats down, suddenly aware of how loud Maron was, trying to soothe Maron who had quieted into snarls, the action seeming foreign to her as panic and adrenaline began to bubble in her chest.

"Okay. We- We need to get away from here.” Her darting eyes latch onto the vast expanse of green shrubbery at the end of the sloped street. “The gardens! Katsuo, quickly, we need to go to the gardens." She shoots to her feet, pulling Katsuo into an unsteady speed walk as she hurriedly weaves through the crowd. She felt uncomfortable out in the open.

It seems that a lot of Parisians have a similar train of thought as the odd stillness quickly breaks into a flurry of shouting and motion as people dart into nearby shops whose owners were pulling down metal gates or swarming down the street in a hurry away from the light show taking place two streets away. Just as she predicted. Many explosions began to sound off, the sounds just barely overpowering the chaos of a panicking crowd. Kagami tugs her brother closer to her in fear of him being trampled, just managing to not stumble over her own feet, her knuckles white on the leash as Maron bounds down the street.

The fears of everyone on the commercial street came true as an Akuma rose into the sky, their vapid cackling easily carrying over the noise of the panicking crowd. A manic, power-hungry grin split their face, the villain positively glowing at their newfound power as they blasted magic from their scepter at presumably a Hero of Paris.

“You know what? Hawkmoth is right. I have been holding back!”

With that, they twirled their scepter into a glowing amber circle, summoning an orb into existence and it sped away into the other street with a piercing whistle. Kagami felt panic shoot through her at the unnatural sound. This time, everyone felt the explosion rather than hearing it as the earth quakes. Many scream, shielding themselves from stray plates of food and potted plants falling from upper buildings.

Kagami feels a horrified gasp tear out of her when Katsuo loses his footing. He cries out, falling to the ground despite her tight grip. A couple other people had fallen as well, struggling to get up as the evacuation started to become more frantic.

In sheer panic, she just scoops up her brother who clutches to her and breaks into a run.

The Akuma notices the panic of the people running from their power and a wicked smile lights their face as they now aim their scepter right at the people, charging another explosive orb. His scepter is suddenly knocked out of his hand by a gray blur as something big and black tackles him in the air, flashing claws digging into Akuma's furious face.

Katsuo mutely watched the scepter fall from over his sister’s shoulder, horrified as the ball of light still unreleased from the scepter continued growing until it touched the middle of the street. “KAG-” He shrills, only to be cut off by the large explosion that bloomed violently from the cobblestone.

Kagami had a split second where she processed Katsuo thrashing in her tightening arms, his rapid heartbeat disappearing from her hands. Then a small sun exploded directly at their feet, and Kagami was aware of her body being lurched away from solid ground into the air. Like the world had flipped upside down under her feet. She was vaguely aware of a dirt covered sky, then the green bottom of a dirty overhang, then smoke. Before she could react, her head smashed into something hard and white bursts in the darkness of her shut eyes.

The searing ache in her skull was too much for her to even THINK, much less withstand the piercing ringing that filled the air. But slowly, slowly, the pain fades just enough for Kagami to take a shuddering breath and force her eyelids open.

Multiple screams of fright and pain surrounded her in an odd haze when Kagami finally opened her eyes to the smoke and dust hanging slow motion in the air. She finally notices that her ears are ringing, and something warm and wet sliding down her cheek. But the fact that most people were unhurt from the explosion itself proved its magical nature. She stands up on the staircase that she had fallen into, where most of the unsteady bricks under her feet had been torn from the sidewalk. Her sides and her arm were throbbing, her cardigan torn. Her attention was drawn to Maron’s barking, who noses insistently at Katsuo who lay sprawled on the ground unmoving.

Fear struck Kagami’s heart like it never had before and she ran to him, crumbling to her knees as she gently shook him. She remembers how to breathe when she finds that he was just curled up in fright, his eyes tightly squeezed with his hands clutched over his head.

“ Otouto , we need to go.” She speaks gently, her hands trembling from relief and her chest heaving from anxious breaths as she picks him up onto his feet. He stumbles a bit, his foot knocking into the glowing gold scepter on the floor.

A lightning strike of fear roots her to the spot as she freezes. “We need to go.” Kagami whispers, her wide eyes locked on the weapon.

An enraged yell startles her again as she looks up. The Akuma was back in the skies, clearly looking for his scepter as he flew up the street, his injured face twisted with fury. His head swings their way as molten gold eyes meet her terrified grey eyes and urgency shoots through her veins at the sheer rage on his face, blood staining his teeth red. His mouth unhinges with the most beastly roar Kagami has ever heard in her life.

“KATSUO, YOU NEED TO GO.” She screams, pushing Maron’s leash into Katsuo’s hands and shoving him away as she scoops up the scepter like a baton and pelts down the street in the opposite direction.

She hears a crash as the Akuma just barely misses her head and flies right into the flower shop. She almost stops, terrified for her brother, but she hears his unmistakable voice yelling for her and the loud barking of Maron as Katsuo was pulled away from the scene by kind strangers who didn’t want to see a child’s corpse alongside the rubble.

Kagami runs like she never had before, like her life depended on it- which it really might. Passing by a mirror display in front of a boutique, she catches a glimpse of the Akuma stepping out from the building, staring right at her with the most hateful look she has ever seen in her life as they lift off the ground and begin to chase. She forces herself to look away and instead turns sharply around the corner heading in the direction of the original explosions hoping to run into the heroes. Those slashes on his face are reminiscent of the deep gouges of Discordant, the current Black Cat hero. He must be nearby. He must be able to help.

Shoving her worry for Katsuo away, she tries to clear her mind of any more anxieties and just focus on sprinting and getting faster and faster. The world fell away from fast moving concrete and passing buildings. She was afraid of stopping even when she hears shouts and sounds of fighting behind her, the close sounds only spurring her on. Her heart thunders in her chest, the roar of her adrenaline drowning out even the shrill from the akuma’s explosion. She was only faintly aware of the blood streaming from her head, splattering the concrete.

Kagami was an athlete, an amazing one she might brag in any other situation, and has never to this date hesitated from the responsibility and duty that comes with every trophy, every win, every move she made in her family’s name. She will try her best to keep the scepter, the source of power away, from the Akuma.

She just prays that she keeps her life.

[hispeculiartreasure]

All We’ve Got is Time - Chapter Fifteen | B.B.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

AU: If They’d Survived/Post-War/Window Washer!Bucky Barnes

Rating: Teen

Word count: 4,300

Chapter 15/24

Warnings: Language, PTSD symptoms, lots of angst, Bucky is sad, allusions to horrible war time, self-loathing, etc.

AN: It’s hard to articulate exactly why this chapter was so hard for me to write. My own mental health played a big part in it, but there was something deeper I was forced to work through when confronted with their heavy conversation. Forever shoutout to my relentless cheerleader @lucyyannabel.  I’m blessed to have @barnesrogersvstheworld in my life, who put a finger on my doubts and worries of this chapter and gently shooed them away. May we all have an Attie in our life who so ardently tells you how valuable and loved you are. And you are, Reader. I promise. Love you.

 Chapter Fourteen

‘All We’ve Got is Time’ Masterlist

“Chevrolet Corporate, Anderson’s desk, how may I help you?” you rattle off into your desk phone’s handset, distracted by the rough draft of a memo your boss had tossed on your desk with little instruction.

“Hey, baby.”

The paper falls from your fingertips. “Buc-? Hi, wh- are you okay?”

You hear a sigh and then, “Sorry to call you at work, I know it could get you in trouble. Wanted to catch you early.”

It doesn’t escape your notice that he hadn’t answered your question. “What can I do for you today, sir?” You phrase the question again, warily eyeing Flannery across the office.

“‘M gonna have to bow out of dinner tonight. I know it’s my second time this week, I’m just absolutely beat, think I may be getting sick. I’m leaving work right now. Wouldn’t be much fun company.”

“Oh,” you deflate in your chair. “We’re sorry to hear that, sir. Is there anything we could do to accommodate you? Perhaps an alteration to the proposed agenda?”

“I don’t think so. Just wanna be home and go to sleep. I’m sorry, I know we haven’t seen each other this week. I’ll make it up to you.”

You keep your voice professional, shoving down your disappointment. “There’s no need for that, sir. I’ll make note of the change in schedule and be in touch at a later date to confirm with your office.”

“Thanks, sweetheart. I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Feel better,” you whisper before setting the receiver down. Something in his tone haunts you the rest of the morning and well into the lunch hour. You don’t hear the break room’s topic of debate as you push your leftovers aimlessly around your pyrex. A bitter taste had settled in your mouth after the unexpected phone call.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Suzy slides into the seat next to you, sounding too casual for your taste.

“Got a lot on my mind.” You chew another mouthful of fruit in contemplation.

“This have to do with your dreamboat?”

“I’m really not in the mood today, Suze.”

“That’s fine. But are you okay?”

Chewing your lip, you turn to her. Her red curls had a little extra bounce but her eyes betrayed her concern for you. “Not really. I can’t put my finger on it, but something’s not right with him. I can’t shake the idea that he’s avoiding me.”

“Did anything specific happen? You guys have a fight?”

“No fighting. . . though he acted strangely after our last date.”

“Strange how?”

The yellow and orange leaves beneath your feet had a distinct crunch to them synonymous with the time of year. It had been a standard evening out for the two of you: comfort food from the diner, a shared piece of pie, and a stroll along the streets. Now that the temperature had been dropping slowly, you could nestle closer to each other.

“‘M just saying, you’ve picked the pie the last few times, I’m past due to choose the flavor.”

“But Bucky, you pick blackberry every time, I’m giving us some variety!” you protested.

“Why would you stray from a pie that never fails you? One that never gives up, that truly strives to be its best for us-”

“Are you eating this pie or marrying it?”

“It’s crossed my mind.”

Your giggles and his chuckles echoed, the street lamps lighting your way home.

“I don’t know why you’re with me then, sounds like pie is your true-”

A loud pop shattered the peace of the night and Bucky went rigid. Before you knew what was happening a shove knocked the breath out of you and you ended up several steps behind your boyfriend. He’d grabbed a pipe out of a nearby trash can, ready to wield it against anyone.

“Buck, it’s okay.” You reached out to grab his shoulder and he immediately jerked away from you, chest heaving. “Hon, it was just a car back-firing.”

His eyes were wide and terrified, grip tight on the pipe.

“We’re okay, Buck. We’re safe, nothing is going to hurt us.”

“Right. Sorry. That . . . was an overreaction.”

“You alright?” you stepped toward him. “I know you-”

He took a surreptitious step backward. “I’m fine, uh. . . yeah, I’m fine. Oh, and your door’s right here.”

“Bucky, you’re not-”

“I’m good, really. I’ll see you in a few days, right? Hope you sleep well.”

Decidedly distracted, he brushed his lips against your forehead and took off down the street, loosening his tie. Watching him leave kicked up a storm of confusion in your mind.

“And I haven’t seen him since,” you conclude, leaning forward to put your head in your hands.

The gentle hand on your back surprises you but you don’t shy away from the comfort. “It’s gonna be okay, babydoll. We all go through stuff, sounds like his stuff is a little heavy right now.”

“Then why isn’t he asking me to help?”

That’s the question still on your mind when you get home from work that night and make a call to Steve and Bucky’s apartment.

“Sorry ma’am, no one’s answering at the residence,” the operator drones in your ear. “Is there another number you’d like me to call?”

“No, thank you.” You stare at the telephone as if it had personally offended you, eyebrows knit closely together, arms crossed.

Somewhere in the space of the last three weeks you had messed up, done something to send Bucky running for the hills. You wrack your brain for an explanation, an event or conversation that was even the slightest bit terse. Coming up empty you sigh and force yourself to continue about your evening.

One day passes with no word from Bucky.

Another day goes by silently.

At the end of the third day you find yourself staring at the phone again, debating your next move. 

A girl was allowed to call her boyfriend, right? Especially after not having seen each other in a while, at least to say hi and catch up on the day - and he said he was sick, surely it was alright, even expected to check on him. You reach for the handset. 

Then again, he’d clearly been sending signals that something wasn’t right, perhaps you should just leave it alone. You snatch your hand back to yourself, drawing it up to pick at your lip nervously. 

But Steve, on the other hand. . .

Shockingly, the line connects.

“Hullo?”

“Steve? It’s me.”

“Hey,” Steve’s voice warms, “you wanna talk to Buck?”

“I actually wanted to talk to you.”

“Oh, okay. What’s going on?”

You twist a finger around the phone cord, digging for the right words. “Is Bucky okay?”

“‘Okay’?” you can practically see his forehead wrinkled in confusion.

“I’m not sure why, but he’s been distant over the last few weeks. I don’t know if it’s me or what, but is he safe? Is he okay?”

“He’s, uh. . .” Steve lowers his voice. “He’s been better. Seems to be having a tough time. I thought you knew that, though.”

“No, I haven’t seen him for two weeks.”

“Really?” Clearly as shocked as you were, his tone turns suspicious. “He’s been avoiding me too. In passing he mentioned that his classes have been giving him some trouble, but I figured he’d seek you out with help on that.”

“Yeah,” you sigh. “Me too.”

“Huh. Thanks for letting me know, lemme see what I can do from my end. I’ll keep you posted.”

“Thank you, Steve. That makes me feel better.”

“Of course. Take care of yourself, okay?”

With a smile you bid him goodbye and hang up, hoping he could make some headway.

-x-

Bucky hears Steve hang up the phone and hopes to God he’s not in for a well-meaning chit-chat.

But of course, a knock comes on Bucky’s cracked-open door, and he can’t really deny Steve entrance. Turning back to the pile of classwork on his desk, Bucky busies himself with a half-finished essay. His friend perches against the dresser, ankles and arms crossed.

Bucky scratches absentmindedly at some stubble on his cheek before grunting, “Whaddya want, Steve?”

“Your girl just called. Said she hasn’t heard from you. She’s worried.”

“Been busy.”

“That’s bullshit.” The pencil in Bucky’s hand snaps in two and he forces himself to let go of the pieces and keep his hands flexed open. “What happened, Buck?”

The aftermath of the nightmare - the first that had plagued him in several months - comes back to Bucky. He’d woken in a cold sweat, hands shaking violently, head pounding. Banging out of his room he’d sprinted for the bathroom faucet, dousing his face in ice cold water to shock his senses back to him. Light sleeper that he was, Steve was there in seconds. Bucky had snapped at him when asked what was wrong, had told him to leave him be. He should’ve known Steve wouldn’t leave it for long.

With effort, Bucky spits out, “The day we took Fischer down.” Any additional detail would have been Bucky’s undoing; he knew Steve could connect the dots.

The blond brings up a hand to cover his mouth, heaving a deep breath. “Yeah, that one’s given me nightmares too.”

“Does it? You don’t show it.”

“We’ve pretended not to hear each others’ nightmares for a long time, pal, no use continuing that charade.”

Silence stretches between them for several minutes. Bucky stewing, Steve waiting.

“Why was it them and not us, Steve?”

Steve knew ‘them’ wasn’t just the girl at the church, wasn’t attached to a singular person or event - ‘them’ stood for every life lost in the war that had stripped the world bare of too many things to count.

“I wish I could tell you.”

Clearing the emotion from his throat, Bucky’s next question surprises Steve. “How do you not let it eat you up?”

Shaking his head, Steve replies, “Some days it does. You know I don’t wear my heart on my sleeve, but I try to talk about it. With you, with Peg, sometimes one of the other guys. If you let it stay in your head, it only grows bigger.”

“I don’t know if I can do that right now.”

“That’s okay. And it doesn’t have to be me you talk to if you don’t want. But do me a favor?”

Bucky finally shifts in his chair to look Steve directly in the eye, lifting a brow as if to ask “And what would that favor be?”

“Don’t shut her out. You know you can’t scare her away. Obviously she wants to be part of your life, so let her. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to you.”

As messed up as I am, is it fair to her to drag her down with me?

-x-

Bucky was grateful for the quiet apartment - Steve was away on business, his classwork was in a lull, and the day’s work had drained him. All he wanted was to eat and fall into bed. The thought of skipping another meal tempted him as he dreamed of what could possibly be a restful night of sleep.

Soft knocks at the front door startle him away from his bedroom. Slowly, he steps to the door in socked feet. Pressing an eye to the peephole, his heart drops into his stomach and threatens to pound right out of his body. You’re waiting on the other side, fiddling with something in your hands. 

You look nervous.

“Bucky?” How could a voice feel like home but also make him dizzy with anxiety? Letting his forehead rest against the door, he realizes how much he’s missed the sound.

He can feel the second rap of knuckles reverberate through his head. Your voice wraps around him again.

Open the door, Barnes. She’s right there. You need her. 

Shame whispers, “But does she need you as a burden? Does she need this broken man in her life?”

A voice that sounded like Steve urges him to open the door, to let himself be vulnerable. 

The doorknob tenses under his grip.

But he doesn’t move. He can’t.

“I don’t know if you’re even home right now, but uh. . .” he hears you sniffle, prompting his eye to focus again on the peephole. You wipe at your cheek - Bucky convinces himself it couldn’t be because of him. “I got something for ya. You mentioned in one of your letters that writing things down cleared your mind, helped you move past things. And while I don’t really know if you’re going through something or just want to be alone for whatever reason. . . I just hope this helps.”

You stoop down, setting whatever you’d been holding against the door. Straightening, you turn to leave, pause, then face the door again. “I miss you, ya know.”

Hesitant footsteps retreat down the breezeway, your tread easy and familiar in his mind.

Only after counting out a few minutes Bucky cracks the door open. A small packages falls to his feet with a surprisingly solid thud. He nudges the door closed and pulls at the twine, then the brown paper wrapping.

Shaky fingers feel at the strong, yet simple leather cover of a journal. He flips through the unlined pages, mind reeling at your memory of something he couldn’t recall mentioning to you. Forcing air into his lungs he cradles the book as if it were a priceless artifact; maybe for him it was.

Opening to the first page his eyes are immediately drawn to black ink, to your familiar handwriting.

Whether it’s with me or without me, I hope you find peace.

You’d left your initials beneath the note, as if he ever would have questioned whose hand had written the inscription. He lets out a humorless laugh before his knees weaken. Letting himself be taken to the floor, he leans against the door, clutching the journal to his chest.

And on the floor of his empty apartment where he wept the full anguish of his soul, it was a lifeline.

-x-

This was a bad idea. I should go home. This is stupid. 

Bucky’s foot taps against the sidewalk outside of your work building impatiently. He’d been there a few minutes already, knowing your schedule like the back of his hand. A deep urge to finally speak with you had brought him this far, though he was fighting the pull to run back home.

Just as he had convinced himself to turn around, you emerge from the front door and he’s frozen in place.

The notion of home floats through his mind as he watches you, hair only slightly rumpled from your day of work. Poised, graceful as ever, a true striking presence on the sidewalk - earning more turned heads than you would ever be aware of. 

So focused on making sure your hat was perfectly in place, you don’t notice Bucky until he’s right next to you. 

“Hi,” his mind goes blank as he stares into your eyes, wide as dinner plates at his sudden appearance.

“Bucky. . . uh, hi,” you stammer. “Wh-what’re you-”

“Can I walk you home?”

“Y-yeah, absolutely.”

Together, you traverse the deeply familiar path home, though a pace apart. 

“How’s the family?” you ask, reaching for an innocuous subject to fill the dead air.

“Uh, good. I’ve missed the last few Sunday dinners, but I assume everything is fine.”

“Oh.”

“Are you - you doing alright?”

“I’m . . . okay. Been a long few weeks.”

He watches the ground as you walk, the click of your heels on pavement bringing sweeter memories to the forefront of his mind. But then the rhythmic sound stops and he looks up, shocked to see your apartment. You’ve turned to face him and his eyes are drawn to how you’re picking at your cuticles.

“Can we sit?” you motion to the brick steps leading up to your door. He nods and you perch on the stairs, closer to each other than you’d been for weeks. “Bucky. . .” 

“Yeah?”

“I. . .” you turn your eyes back to your fiddling fingers in your lap. “I just need to know if this,” you gesture between you, “is over so I can not think of you as mine anymore. If it is, I can handle it and move on.”

Bucky’s mouth hangs open, at a loss for words. You take that as a cue to continue.

“But if this isn’t over. . . you don’t have to meet my parents next month, if that freaked you out. Or if I came on too strong when you got back from Pennsylvania, I can back off. Just. . .” your eyes finally move to meet his and the uncertainty in them was foreign to him, “tell me what I did wrong so I don’t do it again?”

His mind reels as he sits back to take a long look at you. You were serious. You genuinely thought this was a result of something you’d done - but why would you think any differently?

You don’t know how not seeing you left an aching hole in his chest. You don’t know how often he thought of you, how many times he’d frozen when the operator had asked who he’d wanted to be connected to only to hang up. You don’t know about the wad of cash in his sock drawer for which he had sparkling ambitions. Without knowing that, what other conclusion were you supposed to draw?

“I’m such an ass,” he mutters aloud, much to your furthered confusion. After dragging hands harshly down his face he threads his fingers in yours. “Sweetheart, this hasn’t been about you, not in the slightest.”

“Then what is it about? If it wasn’t something I did, what happened?” Your grip on his hands almost breaks his heart completely - like you were scared he’d bolt if you let go.

Words stick in his throat and he swallows in an attempt to dislodge the lump that had formed there. 

“Buck, it’s me. You can say it.”

“I. . . I don’t even know where I’d start.”

“The beginning?” you gently suggest.

At your urging, he begins haltingly, stumbling over words, hoping he was making some kind of sense. “Uhhh. The night after we spent the day at the garage together. I had a nightmare, a memory of being in Europe. A young woman died - she died because of me. It felt like I was there again. I could feel the cold air and the smell of. . . I relived it that night. The days seemed to get worse after that.”

Details begin to spill from his lips - slowly, then all at once. Things he couldn’t have recalled if asked suddenly were toppling into your lap, unorganized, bloody, and heavy. He recounts the sleepless nights, the images seared in his brain from the battlefront, the components of war rarely shared with civilians that had taken a good portion of his innocence and good conscience.

Pausing, he clears his throat and scratches his chin. “It’s hard to talk about,” he admits in a low voice.

You’ve been silent, but present until this moment. “I know. Thank you for sharing with me.”

“The last few weeks have been a fight between wanting - no, needing - you to bring some light into my life; and living in fear that my darkness may snuff your own light out. I can’t take you down with me, you don’t deserve that.”

“Don’t I get a say in it?”

Tears prick at the corners of his eyes and he withdraws a hand from yours to dash at them. “I hate this,” he sniffles. “I thought I was getting better, that this was behind me. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? For what, being human?”

“For being like this when my life has gotten better. I’ve been home for so long, I should be past this by now.”

Your hands are on his cheeks, tilting his head to look into your eyes again. “Says who? Honey, things like this, it’s not a simple trip from point A to point B. This kind of healing takes time. And a backslide isn’t an indicator of failure.”

“Sure feels like I failed at something.”

“But you haven’t,” you insist firmly. He doesn’t respond and you pull your hands away, hesitantly grasping his again. “Why haven’t you been home to see your family?” you ask after a few moments of reflection.

“The girl I . . . that. . . she reminds me of my sisters. It’s hard to look at them and not see her after. . . it happened. I don’t want to attach that memory to them more than it already is.”

Your chest heaves with a long breath as if you were preparing to dive into deep water. “Your time serving, the things you saw. . . they affected you. You have to admit that.”

“It bothers me, sure, but I didn’t come back wounded. I made it in one piece, I don’t have a reason for being this shaken by it.”

“Just because you’re physically safe doesn’t mean your mind didn’t take on injuries. You’ve been through so much-”

Brusquely, he cuts you off. “My mind is fine. I’m not a coward.”

“Bucky, I know that. Everyone knows that. This isn’t about cowardice or weak minds, or whatever nonsense doctors and generals say it is. To survive what you have, to have made so much progress to get to a place where you’re working and taking care of yourself. . . it’s the strongest thing I’ve ever seen. You’ve chosen a career path. You’re almost done with the training while juggling two jobs, family, and a demanding girlfriend.” Both his lips and yours twitch at your teasing. Then you soften again. “You know I’ve seen this up-close with my uncle. You’re not alone and you’re not crazy.” 

Bucky’s face must have mirrored the doubt he felt inside. 

“You said Steve has episodes too right?” He nods. “Do you think that he has a weak moral character? This man, who you think the world of - do you consider him mentally fragile? No,” you answer for him as he can only shake his head. “Then why would you flip that onto yourself? Why would Steve’s hand-picked second-in-command be considered weak? You wouldn’t because you’re not.”

He couldn’t think of an argument against that - but you took his silence to be dubious.

Your voice is hesitant, unsure. “They do have psychiatric hospitals-”

“I’m not desperate enough for that.” The second the words left his mouth he hears how harsh they sound.

“Do you have to be desperate to ask for help?”

“I shouldn’t need help!” he exclaims suddenly. “Other men came back fine, Dad never went through this. I don’t know how to be this way without feeling like shit about myself. Besides, from the stories I’ve heard, what they do is more similar to torture than treatment.”

You’ve shrunken back, shoulders hunched forward as if to ward off his tone. “Okay. I won’t mention it again. I’m sorry.”

“No,” he huffs in frustration. “I should be the one that’s sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you. You’ve been to hell and back which would make anyone’s soul weary. Please be kinder to yourself.”

“I don’t deserve your kindness, let alone my own. But for some reason, Sixth Floor, you’re giving it to me in spades. I don’t understand.”

“Caring for someone doesn’t always entail what they deserve - but I assure you, you are absolutely deserving of all the patience and gentleness. You are one of the most noble men I’ve ever known.” If the conviction in your voice hadn’t rung so clear, he’d think you were full of it.

“How can you still say that after how I’ve treated you?” He doesn’t give you the chance to respond. “Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to lose you baby, I just, I lo. . . I love you too much. And the thought of having pushed you away makes me sick, but I won’t blame you for walking away because of how I’ve acted.”

A sad smile crosses your face as you press your forehead to his before whispering fiercely, “Love isn’t a feeling, it’s an action. I love you to the very bottom of my heart, James. Can you let me love you? Let me show you? I want to be here, if you’ll have me.”

With most of his energy channeled containing sobs, he offers a nod. Leaning in to each other, your lips unite for the first time in too long - earnest, sweet love mingled with relief pours between you. 

Pulling back only slightly, Bucky’s blue eyes search your own. “I missed you,” he murmurs roughly as his thumb wipes away a tear from your chin. 

“I missed you, too,” you return as the pads of your fingers swipe against his wet cheeks.

He lets that settle on his bones for future nights where he may hear whispers of doubt about you and your devotion.

“I wanna get better for you, darling.” He meant it sweet, touching, but you shake your head.

“No.”

He begins to shift away from you, your previous words with the solitary one dissonating, but a hand to the back of his neck holds him fast.

“Don’t get better for me. James Buchanan Barnes is worthy enough to get better for himself.” You interrupt what was obviously going to be a protest from him. “You’re the one that has to live with yourself. I don’t plan on going anywhere, but I also can’t fight this battle for you, as much as I wish I could.”

“I don’t know what getting better for myself even looks like.”

Your eyebrows settle into determination, a directness in your gaze. “Your training is almost done. Quit washing windows, focus on finishing well. Life is about to change for the better. Refocus, take a breather. And let the people in your life love you.”

“I. . . I’ll try.”

“That’s all I can ask. Except. . .” You bite your lip, as if pondering whether you should continue.

“What?” he prompts.

A twinkle returns to your eye and you lean in even closer, “You could shave the beard before you meet my parents or they’ll think I’m dating a hobo.”

For the first time in weeks, a laugh bubbles up through Bucky and out into the world with joy that was anything but hollow.

Chapter Sixteen

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