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arctrooper69 · 2 months

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Hello! I love your stories. Could I request a Drabble about Wrecker being a body guard for a Princess trope? She likes him but he doesn’t think she does. And if it fits “Can you lock the door please?” From your prompt list. Thanks!

Hello friend! I'm so so so sorry that it's taken so long for me to get this out to you! I've been sitting on this for probably about a year now. So sorry! Also... it turned into a full-blown 12 page fic instead of a drabble. Hope you enjoy!!!! 😂❤️🫂

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The Princess and the Wrecking Ball

Wrecker x Princess!Reader

Warnings: Loss due to wartime, small mention of blood. Mostly just some cute hurt/comfort 🥰

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"Really Hunter?" complained Wrecker, "A princess?"

Hunter frowned and nodded. "Yes. Just for a few days." He looked around at the others for confirmation and they simply nodded.

"Why do you seem to be the only one that has a problem with this?" Hunter gestured to his brother with thinly veiled frustration. He'd never seen Wrecker this adverse to a mission before. Even when it required rappelling from treacherous heights.

"Because last time he met a princess he fell head over heels for her and she hated his guts." Crosshair spoke evenly as he sat on his bunk, cleaning his rifle.

Hunter frowned, looking back at Wrecker. "Is that what this is about?"

Wrecker looked down, shrugging nervously. He rubbed the back of his head. "I just don't like Princesses, okay? They think they're all that and then they look at you with those pretty eyes and you think you've got a chance, and you think they really like you and then they realize that you're a clone and call you a stupid, ugly mistake."

The group was silent.

Hunter cleared his throat, "Well, you don't have to get along with her. We're just supposed to transport her safely back to her uncle on Coruscant."

Wrecker crossed his arms, frowning, "Why do we gotta do it?"

"She's in danger, Wrecker." Echo explained, "and it's a favor for Senator Amidala."

"Why can't she do it?"

"She's a senator. She can't exactly sneak into Separatist territory."

"Besides," Hunter added, "The princess' uncle has offered us a lot of money to get her safely to him."

Crosshair looked up. "You mean, we're actually getting paid this time?"

"But - " protested Wrecker.

Hunter looked at him sharply. "We're going to get that princess and you're going to treat it just like another mission. That's an order. Got it?"

Wrecker groaned, "Yeah Sarge, I got it."

"Good. I don't want to hear another word about it from you."

"Do I at least get to blow something up?"

"We'll see."

Wrecker grumbled under his breath. Hunter narrowed his eyes at him but didn't say anything else.

"Well..." Tech spoke up, "Now that that's settled, I'm making a list of everything we need to requisition."

Tech held the datapad out to Echo. He looked over the list.

"I can't think of anything else."

"What about the princess?" Wrecker asked suddenly.

Crosshair sighed, "Here we go again..."

"Hey! I'm just tryin' to be helpful!"

Hunter closed his eyes, "What about her, Wrecker."

"Well uh.... Won't she need things too?"

Tech looked up, "I have included rations for an extra passenger on the way back. That will not be an issue."

Wrecker shifted awkwardly. "Yeah but... What about... women things?"

Crosshair choked on his caf.

Tech blinked, “What women things?”

Wrecker shrugged, “I saw some ad on Coruscant for it once. I don’t remember what it’s called. Think it happens like on a full moon or something, every couple rotations?"

Tech lowered the datapad in his hand to stare at his brother. “She is a woman, Wrecker... not a werewolf."

Hunter closed his eyes again and sighed, rubbing at his temples. Some days he wondered how exactly it was that they'd made it as commandos this long.

"I'm gonna go ahead and veto that one. I think it would be a little weird for a group of elite soldiers to have uh... women things.... on the ship."

Wrecker grumbled, "I was just trying to be helpful."

Crosshair nudged his shin with the butt of his rifle. "Lighten up, Wreck. We are literally getting paid to play taxi for a pretty princess. We could do this in our sleep." He chuckled, "Actually I'm pretty sure I have done something like this in my sleep."

Tech rolled his eyes. "Don't be an ass, Crosshair."

"At least I can get a woman's attention if I wanted to," he goaded.

Tech scoffed, "For your information, I have had several females ask for my com frequency."

"That's enough!" Hunter placed his hand firmly on the table. "Seriously guys? You're acting like a bunch of shiny regs. This is a mission. We're going to act like professionals."

"Have we ever really been professional?" quipped Tech.

Hunter sighed, "Let me rephrase that. We're going to do this just like we've done any other extraction. We get in, grab the target, get out. Got it?"

A chorus of "yes, sir"s announced the end of the discussion.

---

The smooth finish of the once beautiful wood floor felt cold on your cheek as you hid beneath the bed.

"Run! Run and don't look back!" Your mother's terrified voice echoed in your ears, and then the click of the lock as she pushed you into the back hall. Then the shrill scream she'd let out as the droids dragged her away. You'd only run when you heard the blaster fire.

One shot. Thud.

Your father and brother crying out in anguish.

Two shots. Thud. Thud.

Silence. Then voices - modulated and mechanical. Cold and calculating.

"Find the girl."

"Roger Roger."

You felt the dust creep up around your fingers, digging under your nails as you felt along the floor. It floated into your nose and down your throat, tickling and irritating. You suppressed a heavy sneeze that popped your ears, making you aware of every tiny noise. The metallic, icy fear that gripped your chest twisted every noise into something mechanical and violent.

It has to be here somewhere.

There.

Your fingers found purchase on a small, metal surface. The biometric lock whirred to life as you pressed your fingers to the surface.

A hatch hissed open revealing a small room in the wall beside the bed. You crawled out from under the bed, dusting off your pants. It felt naked, being out in the open like this. Dangerous. Vulnerable.

Deftly, you climbed into the hidden room and the hatch hissed closed behind you, locking you in. A dim light illuminated a small room. An emergency com device sat on a stool in the corner and a blaster hung on the wall. A ladder along the back wall led upwards. You had been here enough times with your father that you knew it led to the rooftop. But this time, it wasn't a drill and this time, you were alone.

You dialed the frequency.

A trooper sporting a red and white helmet appeared on the screen. Though you couldn't see his face, he seemed bored.

"This is a secure channel. You shouldn't have this number."

"I..." your voice left your lungs as barely a whisper.

"What's that?" He sounded annoyed now. A knot formed in the back of your throat.

"Speak clearly, please."

"I need to speak to my uncle." The words came out forced and choked.

"Look ma'am, this is a secure channel for GAR personnel only."

Someone said something in the background and the trooper turned, "...nothing, Sir. Just some civvie with the wrong number." He paused, listening to whoever was in the room with him. "...yeah she's trying to call her uncle or something. I'll handle it."

The screen shifted and suddenly instead of the trooper your uncle's face appeared.

"I... I need help." It took everything you had left in you not to burst into tears as you told him what happened. How the droid army came. How your father refused them. How they killed his family first and then him. How you ran and hid.

"Okay," Came his soft reply. "Okay. Keep the door locked and stay where you are. I'll send someone to come for you."

----

The message had come in only a matter of hours and now you waited, lying flat on the roof, for the ship to come carry you away.

Smoke rose in columns. You could smell the fires and tried not to think about the screaming. The people - your people - were dying and there you were, hiding away. Waiting for a rescue that the common citizen would have no hope of. Their choice was to surrender or die. They would die here.

Suddenly shouts rang out just below. "Hey! You! Stop!" The cold, whiny voice of a foot soldier. There was a scrambling of hurried footsteps as whoever they were chasing ran and tripped. You peered over the edge of the building.

"Hey! Where'd you go?" The battledroid sounded confused. Whoever it was chasing hid well.

You watched the figure slowly crawl, inching his way along the entrance to a garbage chute. There were only two ways for him to crawl. A dead end or the garbage chute. The droid seemed to suddenly notice this as well.

"Ha. Ha. You have nowhere to hide now."

He looked young - only a child. Maybe 12 or 13. He looked terrified.

Gritting your teeth, you made a decision you hoped you wouldn't regret.

"Hey!" You shouted. Both the boy and the droid looked up. "You leave him alone!"

"Look, it's the princess!"

"Wait, she's not supposed to be here!"

Kriff. There are more of them.

"I'll take care of her."

Both turned their blasters towards you. The boy was gone but now you'd given up your position.

Kriff. Now I'm dead.

You squeezed your eyes shut, ready for the inevitable blast that would carry you back into the arms of your family.

---

The blast came louder than you'd expected - more painful too. Your head throbbed fiercely and ears rang loud enough to muffle the sounds of yelling and blaster fire. The ragged edges of the wall lay rough and cold as your fingers found purchase on its stones, gripping tightly to shakily pull yourself to your feet. Something wet and warm trickled down your forehead, stinging your eye. You hissed as your fingers found the small cut above your eyebrow, fingers coming away red and slick.

Someone was shouting.

"Princess! Princess!"

This can't be happening. This can't be real.

"Princess!"

That voice again, loud and deep - shredding through the thudding of your pulse and the ringing shock in your head.

A pair of strong arms wrapped themselves around you, yanking you from the ground where you stood.

Panic sprang from every pore in your body as you struggled against that impossible grip.

"Hey! Calm down! You're safe! I got ya!"

He was running. The world seemed to flow by as if you were watching it through someone else's eyes.

Smoke drifted through the sky. Fires burned hot and buildings lay broken and crumbled. The only thing that felt real were the strong arms of the man carrying you from the carnage. Away from everything you'd ever known.

---

Your eyes never left the burning horizon of your home until the vast blur of hyperspace wrenched it away. It was only then you found yourself taking a breath, gasping as if you'd forgotten how to breathe.

"Are you okay?" A figure knelt beside you, slowly drawing your gaze to him. Long, dark hair hung over a dirty red bandana. "My name's Hunter. That's Crosshair, Tech, and Echo." He pointed out each of his brothers, "and that's Wrecker. He's the one who brought you back here."

You looked up at him. The large man looked as if he wanted to say something but stopped.

Hunter got up to join his brothers, leaving you to sit alone on the bunk.

You winced, bringing a hand up to your forehead as the cut stung with the stale air of the ship. Wrecker's look of feigned indifference suddenly morphed to one of concern as he peered through the short passageway of the ship.

"Hey she's bleeding!"

Wrecker immediately grabbed the medscanner, turning towards you - then paused.

He glanced away, the urgent need to make sure you were okay, suddenly transformed into an anxious uncertainty. He rubbed the back of his head in a nervous gesture.

"Here you do it!" he grunted before violently shoving the device at Tech who fumbled it a nanosecond before deftly catching it with sturdy fingers.

Tech frowned, "You are perfectly capable of taking the scan yourself." He sighed as Wrecker averted his eyes. "...but I will take over from here if that is what you want."

"Thanks Tech... I - I just don't wanna make 'er uncomfortable, ya know... in case she's scared of me on account of how I'm... Ehh, you know..."

Tech raised an eyebrow. "I do not think that is a problem, but I'm sure she would appreciate your consideration."

---

Wrecker sat glumly on the floor, leaning against Gonky, watching as Tech headed back up to the cockpit. His eyes slowly lingered back to you as you sat on the edge of the bunk.

"See, she's staring!" whispered Wrecker, leaning over to Crosshair, "I don't think she likes me."

Crosshair shook his head. "She's just in shock. Her family was practically killed in front of her. She's scared."

You could hear them whisper, glancing over at the way you sat stiffly on the bunk he'd sat you on.

Wrecker, he said his name was. An apt name for his profession. Yet, contrary to the tales that Tech had regaled to you, Wrecker seemed to simmer to a calm around you - like any sudden movement might scare you away. The concern was nice, but unnecessary.

He'd seemed so passionate when he'd jumped to save you from that blast.

"Hold on!" he'd boomed. "I've got you!" And you believed him.

Wrecker - the calm within the storm, until he became the storm itself. That was a nice thought.

Lifting your feet onto the bunk, you curled into the thin mattress. You wouldn't sleep. You couldn't. If you closed your eyes, those sounds would haunt you again.

"Run!"

Screaming.

"No!"

Blaster fire.

Thud.

No sleep would come tonight if you could help it - but the heavy fluttering of your exhausted eyelids soon proved to be more than you could fight.

---

"She woke up screaming."

The words, supposed to be a whisper, echoed dimly from the cockpit into the bunk where you lay - not quite asleep, but not awake either.

"We all heard it, Wreck." Came the somber reply from their leader.

"Yeah." A moment of silence. "Think one of us should talk to her?"

"Maybe."

"Tech, you do it! You're good at knowing stuff."

"I am unsure if I would be a suitable candidate for a conversation on such a delicate matter. I can offer solutions to improve her sleep but I do not think that is the issue here. Perhaps Echo should be the one to talk to her?"

"I don't know..."

Another moment of uneasy silence.

"Aw, come on guys" Wrecker's loud voice complained.

"Shhhhhh!" Chorused his brothers.

"Oh. Sorry!" His whisper wasn't much quieter.

"Wrecker's right," Hunter spoke. "Someone should talk to her."

"Wrecker, you should do it." Offered Echo.

"Me!? Why? I'm no good at stuff like that!"

"Hmm.... Echo may be right. She does seem to have an emotional connection to you, Wrecker. More so than to us."

"Wha.... whaddya mean?"

"He means she likes you, Wrecker." His brother smacked him on the shoulder.

"Hey! She does not!"

Crosshair smirked, "Oh she definitely does."

Wrecker fervently shook his head, "Does not!"

"Does to! In fact, I heard her last night in the fresher." Crosshair's grin widened, "She was all 'oh Wrecker, ohhh'" he mimicked the sound of your voice in jest.

Wrecker froze. "She did not! Yer just making that up!" He glanced at Hunter. If anyone had heard anything it would've been him. Hunter glared at Crosshair, who sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Okay, fine. I made that up. But..." he poked his brother in the gut with a boney finger. "I still think she likes you."

Wrecker frowned, rubbing a hand on the back of his bald head. He still looked unsure.

"Just get in there!" Crosshair kicked the back of his knee, causing him to stumble forward a few feet towards your bunk.

---

Wrecker sat awkwardly for a moment. He licked his lips. You blinked up at him, sleep still clouding your eyes in a confused daze.

He took a breath. He could do this.

It took you a few moments to fully wake, and another few to realize that Wrecker was sitting on his bunk, staring at you. A rush of heat stirred butterflies through your stomach - a feeling that had become all too familiar since being aboard this ship.

Wrecker looked nervous.

You blinked at him, tilting your head. He was still staring. "Uhh... Can I help you with something, Wrecker?"

"You dream bad." He blurted out.

Huh? A look of confusion crossed your face as a look of horror overtook his own.

"No! I mean.... I mean..." He shouted.

You jumped, startled.

He cleared his throat, looking mortified. "I mean... Ya... You..." he stuttered miserably. "Ya had a bad dream and I was just wonderin' if you were okay." He looked down, "That's all." He gulped. Great, he blew it. "I'll uh... I'll leave ya alone now."

He turned towards the cockpit, face red with embarrassment.

"Wait..." Your voice called out from behind him. "Wrecker wait...."

He paused.

"I... I think it was really sweet of you to come see if I was okay."

He heard you shift on the bunk, sitting up to swing your legs over the side.

"I... I'm sorry if I woke you up."

You sounded sad and Wrecker felt his heart crack. He turned back around, sitting down on his bunk again, facing you.

"Nah, I was already up." He chuckled, that explosive grin reappeared across his face. "Besides, it's pretty impossible to wake me up. Just ask Tech. One time him 'n Crosshair made a bet to see what they could do to make me wake up."

You giggled, the icy fear that gripped your chest began to warm. "What ended up waking you up?" You asked, genuinely curious. "Who won the bet?"

Wrecker grinned. "Crosshair did. He put a tooka treat in my ear and left the ship open. It was when we landed on Lotho Minor. There's lots of tookas around there."

You giggled, imagining a sleeping Wrecker surrounded by an army of tiny mewing tookas.

He was silent again and you felt those angry claw sneak their way around you again, freezing through your veins. Wrecker must have noticed, his smile faded.

"Didja wanna talk about it? Or..." he trailed off.

You shivered and leaned into him. Without thinking, he put his arm around you, pulling you closer - keeping you warm.

"I... It's just a lot to process." You said softly. "I just keep remembering. I keep hearing them die."

Wrecker didn't say anything. He took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. You shouldn't have to see somethin' like that. Yer a princess. Yer supposed to go ta parties and drink those fancy juice things and eat those tiny sandwiches."

You sighed, "It's not all just parties and fancy stuff all the time, you know."

Wrecker sat up, looking at you. "It's not!?"

"No," you chuckled. "Sometimes it's sitting in on a really boring meeting. Sometimes it's learning how to fire a blaster in case you have to defend yourself."

"Whoa..."

You smiled sadly, "Lots of people don't like me when they hear I'm a princess. I think they think, that I think I'm better than them or something."

"That's a lot of thinkin'" Wrecker replied, not meeting your eyes. You chuckled.

It was silent again.

Wrecker cleared his throat, “I uhh… I think I know what you mean.”

You looked at him quizzically.

“A lotta people - “ Wrecker started, then paused. “Well, most people actually. They think I’m stupid just because I’m big and kinda slow with words and stuff.”

You frowned. “But aren’t you the demolition expert? You blow stuff up, right?”

Wrecker grinned at that, momentarily forgetting the awkward seriousness of the conversation before. “You bet I do!”

His smile was contagious and you found it inflicting its endearing passion across your own face. “Well then you can’t be dumb, silly!” you teased. “Don’t you have to be super smart to learn to build and disable all those explosives?”

Wrecker paused, “I dunno…”

You cut him off. “And not to mention the chemistry and physics and numbers it takes to do what you do so well!”

Wrecker shifted brushing his hand against your leg. You froze, suddenly realizing exactly how close you were to him - how his arm draped warmly around your back. The unexpected contact seemed to leave you breathless.

What was this?

Your skin seemed to burn where he'd touched you. You looked up at him.

This mountain of a man had saved you without even ever having met you before. He'd charged right into blaster fire, scooping you up as though you weighed nothing and he did it all with a smile on his face. You let out a shaky breath, shivering as he shifted and brushed against you once more.

Immediately, Wrecker jumped to his feet, realizing his mistake.

"I... I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to scare ya or... or touch ya... I..." He stuttered, "I... I'm such a..."

You looked up at him wide-eyed. "Wait! Wrecker stop!"

He paused, looking down miserably.

Now it was your turn to blush, "I... I didn't mind it." You said quietly, looking down at your feet.

He still looked unsure.

"I like being around you, Wrecker. You make me feel safe."

He looked down to where you patted the spot on the bunk beside you.

"You sure?" He asked tentatively.

You nodded, "I'm sure."

"You wanna know something funny?" He asked, voice uncharacteristically quiet as he sat again.

"What?" You smiled, leaning towards him.

"I thought you weren't going to like me... Just like you thought we weren't gonna like you."

"Of course I like you, Wrecker! And I'm really glad you were the one to find me."

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jolapeno · 7 months

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voicemails

frankie morales x f!reader

do we drabble on sundays? is this what we do? well, anyway, here’s some soft sunday fluff. no warnings: except fluff and sweetness and lovely softness. dedicated to @msjarvis who didn't ask for this but I’m giving anyway.

JUST THINKING ABOUT HOW THE TWO OF YOU BEGIN LEAVING VOICE NOTES FOR ONE ANOTHER. It started one time when life took one of you away from the other—the bed you share and the walls you laugh inside of are lonely without the pair of you together. Because it all feels vaster, quieter.

Then it became a thing. A make-do measure, a thing both of you grew to need first thing in the morning and last thing at night. A habit. A tradition. The day not beginning or ending without it.

It quickly becomes a comfort, a thing that brings the both of you joy, happiness—in the same way the scent of your shampoo does for him and how when he’s alone he leans closer to your pillow because it lingers and he consumes as much of it as he can to trick himself he’s not lay in bed alone.

Your voice in the morning makes up for the fact your mug isn’t left on the side or in the sink, all used. Because he hates it when he wakes and finds it in the cupboard, where he put it last night, it rumbling through him and making his chest clench.

There’s a list of things he misses when you’re not home, and if he begins, he isn’t sure he’ll ever stop.

Frankie supposes you’ll have your own list. An itinerary of things you miss about him when he’s out of town. Sometimes you share them, let them slip out and mumble them down the phone when you’re pacing, unsure what to do when he’s not home. It makes his heart squeeze in his chest, all tight, especially when he hears you doing mundane things he usually gets to watch you do, like cook or make a drink.

It’s why he likes the voice notes. Likes being a part of your day even if he’s not there. Has the chance to listen to them on his drive or when he’s brushing his teeth—pretending, even in hotel rooms—that you’re closer than you are. Staring at your contact photo as you say those three words, I miss you.

The voice notes range in topic. Sometimes they’re about your day, about the fucker you work with that he’d love to break the nose off; sometimes they’re a ramble about your breakfast, interspersed with a minor rant about something. Odd times they’re about dinner, hearing you move things in the refrigerator before you confess you’ll order and leave him leftovers.

He has his favourites, a handful of ones he’ll listen to on days where he needs more sunshine. One is the day you tripped, again, over his toolbox. An odd choice, he knows. It beginning all high-pitched, voice tinged in venom and anger:

“Francisco Morales, if you leave your toolbox in the hallway one more time—“

Then it was doused in sweetness, absolute honey, and it wasa exhilarating to fucking listen to.

“—Oh, you washed up. Oh, baby. Well, shit—Frankie, I love you okay? Just put your damn tools away.”

But the one he has saved is one where you’ve tired, exhausted—brain having kept you awake and every noise in the house doing something to make the shadows seem more dangerous than they were. You’re babbling, eyes likely closed, voice just reeling off the things your brain is thinking—no filter, no barrier between thought and tongue.

“—and baby, even though I’ve been sleeping in your clothes, I miss you. ‘Cause you make me happy—so happy, you know that? You have to. Tell you a lot. The bed does feel super weird without you. It’s really cold, and big—like too big. I turned the thermostat up, I know, I know, I’ll turn it down. Oh, and baby, I saw sprinkles moonwalk again on the fence. I did try to record it—but, you know me, I’m clumsy, chipped my phone. Don’t be mad. Please. I know you won’t cause you’re good, kind, nice—god you makemehappy. So tired. Justwanttosleep, you know?—“

He remembers driving back through the night the following day—slipping in, quiet as a mouse. Old training came in handy as he slid out of his boots and cautiously placed his keys.

Frankie managed to miss the floorboard he needs to fix, the one that usually gives him away—and even remembered to not use the light in the bathroom. His last test had been the bed, somehow managing to get in with precision, even roll you closer without waking you.

It’s worth it, all the time away—the voice notes in between—for the life he’s able to build with you and the look he wakes to in the morning.

A thing he thinks each time.

Because you look at him like he solved every problem wrong in your world; you look at him like he makes the impossible, possible.

And, after all he’s been through, he’d been sure that ship had more than sailed. That his chance had gone, faded, slipped through his fingers like water or dust.

But here you are. Your voice filling his ear in real time, whispering a good morning, if he had a safe drive—and he’s full of gratitude all over again. As he is every time he gets to hear your voice—in person or through the phone.

an: sometimes, voice notes are just the best, right? I also love voice mails, and all voice related things.

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #francisco morales x reader #francisco morales fanfiction #Francisco catfish morales x reader #francisco morales x you #frankie morales x f!reader #triple frontier fanfiction

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tbhimnoteasyonmyself · 7 months

Text

WHAT THE FUCK IS UP WITH PHEE?

(and other equally puzzling things)

An EXTREMELY EXTENSIVE Post-Episode 10 Analysis/Theory

So, okay. Episode 10 was A LOT. Like... A LOT, A LOT. And a lot of this lot seems... Weird as fuck. So many odd choices were made in the narrative.

Top's drugged manipulation; White pulling info about shrooms out of his ass; Fluke becoming a victim of involuntary drug abuse ghosts of his past and begging for mercy after "all he did to Non"... But nothing beats Phee's OOC moments in ep.10 while he's alone with Jin.

Which is what compels me to make this post. Because this series has been nothing but the richness of detail and now suddenly... It's all over the place? Call it wishful thinking (or Last Twilight trauma) but I don't think so. And it mostly comes down to: Phee. And whatever his "agenda" is.

PS: All screenshots of the show I use (and I will use a lot) will have been brightened because this show is FUCKING DARK, BOYYYYYY and I don't think y'all deserve to force your sight at 3AM to enjoy my posts.

WHAT HAPPENS AND WHY IT'S SUSPICIOUS

So? What does Phee say and do when he's alone with Jin in ep.10 and why am I suspicious of it?

It's hard to say for sure. But we can base ourselves off of 3 things: what we hear him say, what Jin replies to him and the flashbacks (no, they're not just there to fill in time for this very short episode, they serve a narrative purpose).

So let's do this analysis following the order in which things are shown to us, shall we?

First of all, we get a short flashback. The events are as follows:

Phee and New go to see the gang's film

New approaches Phee and they talk

New and Phee decide to try and figure out what happened to Non by infiltrating the group

New and Phee join the gang's school and start asking questions

Jin decides to leave Thailand

New suggests going to Por's mansion for the goodbye party

Phee questions New in the lab about his decisions

New suggests using their homemade drug on the group as a truth serum

Phee asks if the drug is deadly and New denies it

Although we don't hear Phee tell this to Jin, Jin does reply very angrily something along the lines of "and you just let him carry on with it? why didn't you stop him? what the fuck is wrong with y'all???", so we can assume we've been shown what Phee told him.

So far, it's very unsuspicious. We've been shown these events before in the actual flashbacks so we can be fairly sure all of that is true.

It starts to get suspicious, however, when Phee replies to him: "There's so much more that you don't understand. About Non, and Tan".

And I think Jin feels the vibe too because, the man standing on his tall pillar of morality and righteousness /s, says he'll give Phee another chance to cut the bullshit and tell him everything. And so Phee sighs and the dreaded narration of ✨New's Murderous Adventures✨ starts.

So Phee tells Jin (and consequently us) that:

Phee and New set up a bunch of cameras to spy on the gang

New drugged the drinks

It was supposed to end when everyone was high at the party but New didn't follow the plan

New deleted the camera files

Phee kept drugging the group

Por's injury wasn't an accident but a trap that he thinks New set

New's drug enhances people's inner fears

Phee "never thought New would be so cruel with Uncle Dang"

New drugged Top at the temple

New must've left the hard disk for White to find

By the time he figured New's plan, there was nothing he could do about it (and we see him looking distressed at New's arrival at the house)

Now, here we have some interesting things. Let me list them for you.

Why would Phee keep drugging the group after Por got hurt?? If, as he claims, he didn't mean for people to get hurt, why would he keep people on drugs while a man is dying on the couch? Especially when the guy you're on a revenge mission with is ELIMINATING THE CONTENT OF THE CAMERA RECORDINGS!! That sure isn't gonna help anyone survive!

How does Phee know about Top??? He and Jin never saw Top arrive at the house. For all they know, that bro is lost in the woods. Right??

HOW THE FUCK DOES HE KNOW WHITE GOT THE HARD DRIVE??? There's no signal in the woods. We've established that. When White tells Tee and New about his actions they're ALONE. The only other person there is LITERALLY THE MASKY (I'm calling the masked person that for convenience, it's shorter. besides, it seems the fandom has been calling them that anyways, so... yeah). So how does he know? How does he know???

And in that same fucking sequence: THE MASKY TRIES TO HURT NEW!!! But if New told Top to hurt everyone who hurt Non, why would he hurt him??? And why, my friends, WHY would he SAVE TEE, when he's the only witness of those events??? It would be so easy to just say the masky killed Tee and he couldn't save him... Is it 4D chess??? Is it a different masky??? Or, is it simply not true that New did that?

It's very confusing, weird and suspicious. But let's wait it out, guys, because there's more to PheeJin in the temple.

After this odd-ass narration, they're back to having a convo. Which goes as follows:

Jin (very validly) asks Phee what the fuck is wrong with him and New

Phee says he'd never allow them to go if he knew New was going for murder instead of just confessions ("you can hate me if you want but I never wanted anyone to get hurt, I swear" or whatever he said)

Jin asks if Tan is New and Phee is Non's boyfriend

Phee confirms Jin's suspicions and even adds that "p'New came back from England"

Jin asks if they ever saw the group as their friends

Phee says they wanted to infiltrate the group to find the truth because they didn't know shit about what happened to Non and it's haunting them (good choice of words there, very subtle /s)

Phee explains his motivation, stating he told Non to "get lost and die"

Jin confesses to recording the child grooming revenge porn tape and posting it on Twitter (-_-)

Jin explains his motivation, saying he respected Non's relationship (by constantly making moves on him?) but couldn't stand him cheating on Phee (so he one-upped him by committing not one but two actual severe crimes?)

Phee appears to be mad and disgusted so he says "Fuck. So we both were the ones who hurt Non?", gets up and starts pacing (oh no! the big boy is angy~~~ /s)

Jin gets up like a sad wet cat

Phee randomly finds an axe and takes some exposition out of his ass by stating "this must be Tan's axe that he keeps as a spare. But it's good"

Phee breaks the gate

So by this point Phee's whole speech sounds a bit insane, considering the type of person we've seen he is. Not to mention he just INSTANTLY calms down upon finding an axe and just decides to move on. Like ??? Excuse me??? If that ain't weird then idk what is. Like, sure, Phee is a very confusing and confused character (as better explored by @crysta1ized in this post). He seems to have his heart divided between many things and they could all be pulling at his strings there. HOWEVER, we have to remember Phee's also THIS guy:

Does this look like the kind of person who would just move on after a (perceived) treason? Does he??

And, the thing about this is that it gets worse.

After the scene cuts back from the house, Pheejin are lost in the damn woods (parallels to New and Tee? mayhaps, man, mayhaps...) These are the events there:

Phee is back to supporting Jin's weight with his body while they walk (which makes no fucking sense bc Jin hurt his SHOULDER which is a part of his UPPER BODY so there's no reason why he couldn't walk on his own but okay, sure)

They make no progress walking for a while, even despite trying to mark the places they've already been at

Jin is very upset that Phee's not very good at navigating through unknown forests at night

Phee, however, is very understanding and says: "Jin. I told you that I would be the one who would protect you. So I'll get you out of here" then PROCEEDS TO HOLD HANDS with him and continues with: "Right now, our friends are waiting for us to help them. So, you must stay strong. Believe in me"

Jin nods (because, despite trying to play the apathetic bitch, he's a softie and very much has feelings™)

PheeJin finally find the exit of the fucking forest

DO Y'ALL SEE HOW SOMETHING'S VERY WRONG WITH PHEE HERE??? Bro's not just acting weird (that would be fine, we love weirdos. *looks at New and winks* <3), he's abnormal. He's not acting like himself.

So, before I jump into trying to make some sense out of all of this, I'll just add the last scene of PheeJin alone in ep.10, last anyone come tell me I missed it:

They're arriving at the mansion

Jin falls down

Phee abandons the axe to help him

I don't think this one is particularly relevant to analyse Phee's character in this episode (although the axe is certainly relevant for other plots and our dear 9th person) but it's there. After this, they're back in the house with everyone and Por's rotting corpse.

PHEE IS HIDING THINGS

So what the fuck happened, really? Well, a lot. Some are easier, I think, to interpret, some aren't but regardless, there was a lot going on with Phee. To make this very complex thing a bit easier to understand, I'll start from the things I think are a bit easier to explain and/or are more solid and then I'll move from there towards the rest of this mess. Okay? Ok- (gets shot bc I hate John Green).

One thing for me that's nearly set in stone is that Phee, at the very least, isn't telling Jin everything. If he was, then the flashbacks would've started with PheeNon's falling love montage but they don't. They start at the cinema. Plus, Jin has to ask if Phee is Non's boyfriend and Tan is New, like he's piecing things by himself. If Phee had told him that, he wouldn't need to ask. AND Phee would've have referred to New as New during his whole monologue but he did not. He kept saying "Tan". He only started doing so after Jin asked the question and he confirmed Tan was New.

Curiously enough, he also never mentions the antidote he knows exists and KNOWS New brought along. And that neither of them ever used on the others.

The million-dollar question here is then, naturally: why? Various reasons, I believe.

1st of all I think we have to account for the feels. Phee is definitely in a weird ass zone with Jin but it's something. And he feels that something (whatever it is. believe me I could make an entire post about that shit, it's so fucking complex, man, and it only gets worse this episode). He likes Jin, even if he tries not to or if he dislikes that he likes him. It's undeniable. So yes, of course, he doesn't want Jin to hate his guts more than necessary.

But also... We cannot forget why Phee himself is there: to find out what happened to Non. And what does he get out of the conversation he has with Jin? That's right. A confession.

Now, I don't think it's the confession he expected if his reactions are anything to go by:

I mean... If this is not the face of a man thinking "well, shit", then idk what it is. And also because, idk if it's a subtitle error or not, but he seems to ask "what did you three do?" when he's inquiring about the events of the past, so...

Someone is being excluded.

Still, I think it's super possible he was hoping to get something out of it. After all, even if he assumes Jin is innocent in his actions, I don't think he's excluding him from having knowledge of what went down. That would make his positive bias even sillier.

So yeah, sure, I bet Phee feels genuinely guilty and it hurts him to be in the situation he's in and he definitely wants to be in a good place in terms of his relationship with Jin, especially because, as he said, he doesn't know if they can get out of the temple. But also... As Ta (Phee's actor) himself said in an interview: Phee can be really manipulative (I can't find the damn interview rn but, during my search, I found @raelle-writing had also mentioned it in this post, so I think it's enough to say I didn't dream that shit). You know... 2 things can be true at once.

Which brings me to the next part:

PHEE IS LYING

That whole talk of "I never thought he would hurt you", "if I had known I wouldn't have let you come", blah, blah, blah. That's some major BULLSHIT.

Phee knew exactly what New was capable of. At least, on a subconscious level. After all, if my friends started being murdered, my 1st assumption would not be that my best friend did it. Unless, of course, my best friend was spiralling down to madness, constantly using drugs to see his dead brother and answering shit like this:

With a smirk on, when I ask him if the absynthe is gonna kill our friends. Because yeah, sure, I guess the green won't kill them. But you can't tell me this motherfucker wouldn't. He definitely would. And if we can infer that, so does Phee, who has been living with him as his close friend for the last 3 years.

In fact, the very fact that he feels the need to ask whether or not the drugs will kill the gang is proof enough that he, to some extent and, whether or not he's aware of it, KNOWS that's, at least, a possibility. Knows that's something New would do.

So yeah, he's perhaps not just lying to Jin (but also to himself) or not intentionally lying, but he's lying nevertheless. Phee knew this was a possibility. He knew New was capable of stuff like that. And when he pieces the story together, that's him admitting, even if no one realizes, that he knew it. And that he let it happen, in fact, because he never tried to stop the drugging. Or talked to New about what was going on (you'd think if he had that he would've told Jin in that situation). His biggest weapon is his knowledge and he chose not to swing the sword sooner. How very Fluke of him, isn't it? Especially because now 2 people are dead and that's on New, right? Right???

Not necessarily.

NEW IS NOT A MURDERER (initially)

You see, for all we see New is fine with death and murder in episodes 9 and 10, he makes it clear his nº1 goal is to figure out what happened to Non when he gets in front of a fucking firearm to harass Tee into talking.

So why would he talk Top into murder? Why would Top attack him?? Why would he kill Uncle Dang?? And why, on the goddamn Earth, would he eliminate the recordings in the house when his whole motivation is

(Thank you, hallucination Non <3) to expose them??? Especially when the only other person who knew about the hidden cameras was Phee. It makes no sense! Sure, he might've contemplated the murder, but on a later phase of the plan, I think. The priority was, always, to get them to confess on camera so he could later use the recordings to expose them to the country and clear Non's image. 'Cause we cannot forget, while the people close to Non don't buy the bullshit TV news sensationalist story (and, therefore, are searching for the truth), the rest of the country thinks Non is a slut who ran away with mafia money and his teacher (because, like @delululover explains in this post: Asian culture tends to normalize grooming of older teens and even blame them for the situation).

So what are we seeing when Phee narrates the events? Well, probably just Phee's guesses.

He thinks New is deranged and has drugs and that Top is missing and now they're being attacked by this person, who is conveniently wearing a mask. So he guesses that's Top. Plus, he doesn't know New was attacked by Masky in the middle of the forest.

He knows, like everyone else, that New had the hard drive. And, when Top and New go out in the woods with the bike he remains in the house. So, it's possible he saw the hard drive there where New left it before he went out.

And, because the only 2 people remaining in the house, as far as Phee knows, are Fluke and White, and New DEFINITELY wouldn't want the drive to get into Fluke's hands, he must've assumed New wanted White to find it (which may or may not be true but it's irrelevant, I think).

And, yes, calm down, I can hear you scream: "But how did he know White watched the video???" And the answer I bring you is very simple: he didn't. He has no idea. And the best part is: you only think he knows because you know. But Phee never says that. He says New left the hard drive there for White to find. And that's it. He never mentions a video whatsoever.

Now, is it convoluted? Yes. Absolutely. But we have to think this is Phee we're talking about. He's the guy who always thinks he has the upper hand (a.k.a thinking he can save Non or that he's not falling in Love with Jin). It's almost impossible for him to think he's in the dark as to what is happening to them. After all, in his narrative of his life, he is the hero. And, I know, lots of people in the fandom see it that way as well, so... It's not impossible to imagine that's what the story is trying to sell us. It's trying to make us believe Phee knows. When in reality, I think, it's more likely that Phee's the embodiment of this meme:

Okay. But then if New didn't do it, then who did? Because something is obviously going on with Top, right? And Uncle Dang IS very much dead. So what the fuck is that all about?

THE SECRET 9TH PERSON? ENTITY? THING?

As discussed several times by several people in this fandom, there's a very high possibility that there's someone else with them in the woods.

@blmpff points out the existence of various versions of the mask here. @subtextsays points out the crutches in the bathroom scene with Top here. There's this shit:

Whatever it fucking means (besides the fact that it gives me the hibbie jibbies). Someone is also obviously taking care of the Janta cult because there's fresh food in the offerings.

@raelle-writing also points out here that New is also seeing stuff even though our favourite insane motherfucker has got (and has been using!) the antidote.

And, as of episode 10, as @babyangelsky pointed out in this post, when PheeJin are lost in the damn woods, the cuts on the wood Phee supposedly make keep changing.

Which makes both of us question if they're all the same cut or even all done by Phee.

So, I think this is enough to speculate Phee could very much just be misinterpreting the whole thing and attributing guilt to New when, in fact, someone else has been causing the deaths.

Now you may question who and that's all very fair. You should even. But that is not what this post is about and, frankly, thank god, because this is already a monstrous creation.

So let's pick these cuts in the wood and use it as a segway to the last part of this, shall we?

PHEE IS AS BENEVOLENT AS A GREEK GOD

So Phee's mad. Super mad. He's passing around and cursing.

Jin, the only person he probably genuinely thought didn't do anything, is the one who recorded and posted the video.

And then Phee finds an axe. And, suddenly, Phee changes. Why?

Well, we have to look at it with what urges Phee to talk in the first place (besides his feelings and his wants): Phee is losing hope. He states it himself that he doesn't think they're going to be able to get out of the temple. So, he talks. Sure, he doesn't say everything but it's the closest to being honest with Jin we've ever seen him be.

And then their whole reality changes. Because Phee found an axe. And it all comes down on him: they are going to get out of there. And what now?

As @yellingaboutkp states in this post Phee is not only hard to read for us or confusing to the other characters (Jin mainly). He's also hard to read and confusing to himself: "...is Phee still playing Jin? It seems like he's trying to, but the more time he spends with Jin, the harder it's getting to stick to the plan."

Thus, what we see at the end of their time in the temple and alone in the woods is a mix of things, I believe.

Phee needs to feel like he's in control again. And with the original plan being ruined and Jin knowing too much (and there's no way he's not gonna speak, in fact, it's the very first thing he does when they arrive at he house) he's simply not. So when he tells Jin everything is gonna be alright, he's also trying to tell that to himself. He's trying to reassure himself that they're gonna get out of that huge mess. And, perhaps, in saving Jin also finding some redemption because, according to his own narration of the events, he let New go too far (as Jin points out).

Phee also knows more now. And maybe, if he was able to get Jin to speak once, without even having to force anything out of him. who knows if he cannot do it a second time in front of the cameras they've set inside the house? So he's trying to follow the script and manipulate him into trusting him, like he always has been trying to do. Except this time he's more bitter about it. And this, alongside with reason 1, is why these two scenes feel so different:

And lastly: Phee knows the catastrophic effects his words and actions had on Non when they broke up. He knows the consequences of his rage. It's the entire reason why he's there. Because he failed at being a good boyfriend the 1st time. Does he really want that to happen again? Does he want to fail Jin too? There's a reason (besides the story itself and his need to justify himself to Jin) why we see that flashback of his break-up with Non in this episode. And I believe this is it. (so yeah, I understand it might be frustrating to see Phee be more benevolent to Jin who fucked up big time than Non who didn't do anything, it is EXACTLY because he wasn't benevolent to Non that Jin is getting princess treatment)

So, in conclusion: Phee is fucking confused. And it carries on being that way for the rest of the episode. Phee calls New out but he doesn't seem to care too much about Por being dead on the couch. He helps Jin on the ground, but he doesn't say a thing about Fluke pointing a gun at Tee. Sure, he does ask for the gun at a certain point but isn't that just more of Phee's desperate need to get control back?

And we see this all come down to the preview of the next episode and what it's probably going to mean:

Phee finally has got things under his control again. But this means, surprise, surprise, that Phee's gotta make a choice: to shoot (and stand on New's side) or not to shoot (and stand on the gang's side). Which, of course, metaphorically is a choice, in good romance and BL fashion, between 2 lovers: Non and Jin. But also, in good storytelling, as, once again, @raelle-writing (can't help myself, Rae's posts are FIRE 🔥🔥 sksksksksks) explores better in this post: a choice between the past and the present; continuing to drown in grief and a wish for revenge or choosing to move on and heal.

And, as I (YES, if I'm gonna tag a bunch of people and their works, YOU BET, I'm gonna link my own stuff) explore in this post about White's identity and role in the story (and other people in the fandom have commented as well), I'm inclined to believe he's gonna pick the gang, Jin, the present, healing. Because this is a story about the damage caused by cycles of violence and grief. And a story about how, the only way to stop them, is to choose not to participate in them by letting go.

(and also because we already have characters who represent different choices like Non, who was always stuck in the future because he kept getting deeper and deeper into shit, thinking tomorrow would be better; or New, who is very obviously stuck in the past, unable to let go of the things he didn't do, the things he didn't prevent and only ends up losing more and more as a consequence)

CONCLUSION

Thank you for your time and attention. Feel free to comment and discuss this with me. And I'll see you either on my next long-ass monologue or next Saturday as we watch episode 11!

All the love 💜💜💜

PS: Shout-out to the group chat, including, but not limited to: @ayansbff, @cyberstalking and @squishysquadstuff who have listened to me ranting about this post since Saturday and told me to eat when I was too focused on writing it. Your patience was fundamental in carrying me through this monstrous project (it took me 10 hours to write all this) 💜💜💜.

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dystopicjumpsuit · 1 year

Text

Tup à Trois

Happy Tup Tuesday! Inspired by this delicious (and NSFW) Tup Spicy Alphabet Headcanons post by @deejadabbles and the absolutely unhinged conversation that followed.

Rating: Mature/18+/Minors DNI

Pairing: Tup x Fem!Reader x Jesse

Wordcount: 2,519 words of filth

Warnings: SMUT; threesome; oral sex; femdom; lingerie/stocking fetish; exhibitionism; voyeurism; cum eating; PIV

A/N: this didn't seem that kinky when I was writing, but now that I see all the warnings written out, I'm starting to think I might be desensitized. There must be something in the water. Anyway, here's my beautiful boy.

Previously, on Tup Tuesday | Masterlist | Join my tag list here

“It’s just sex,” he says. “No reason to make it weird if everybody’s down.”

Your gaze drifts over Jesse’s body. You’d be lying if you said he wasn’t hotter than Mustafar, but his particular brand of arrogant swagger does nothing for you. You far prefer Tup’s sweet, quiet sincerity and understated confidence. But if it’s just sex? Jesse looks like a wild ride.

He stretches casually, showing off the muscles that bulge beneath his uniform, and when you look back up to his face, he has a smug expression that makes you want to throw something at him. Like a drink. Or your pussy.

“See something you like?” he asks insolently.

You dart a guilty look at Tup, realizing you’ve been ogling his brother right in front of him, but to your surprise, his eyes are trained intensely on your face, his pupils dilated so wide that you can barely make out the rich brown of his irises. You recognize the desire in his gaze, and you realize—Oh. He likes that idea.

You’ve learned that Tup likes to watch. He’ll lie in bed next to you, watching you play with yourself for hours as he whispers sweet words of lust and encouragement. In fact, he often brings new toys for you when he comes home on leave. This is the first time the toy he’s offering is one of his brothers, though. Your eyes dart between Jesse and Tup, and they watch you with the same expression: pure, unbridled craving.

“Want to get out of here?” Jesse asks.

You turn to Tup, and he nods. You slide out of the booth so fast you nearly pitch forward onto the floor, but Tup catches you, and the three of you stumble out of the club. As Tup hails a cab, Jesse pulls you back against him and slides his hands over your hips, dropping his mouth to the junction where your neck meets your shoulder and licking his way up to your earlobe. His facial hair is a little more prickly than Tup’s, and the unfamiliar rasp of it sends shivers through your body.

Distantly, you hear some jackass cat-calling the two of you, but you’re too aroused to care. Tup rejoins you, and he kisses you with a sweltering intensity before he tugs you across the landing platform and helps you into the waiting taxi. Jesse slides in next, and then Tup, and soon you are flying through the skylanes toward your flat.

Jesse, clearly not shy about performing in front of an audience, continues his exploration of your body, his mouth and hands roaming over your skin, sliding under your dress to tease you through your silky undergarments. Tup sits back and observes, his erection prominently tenting the front of his uniform. You meet his eyes, silently inviting him to join in, but he just murmurs words of lewd encouragement as Jesse redoubles his efforts.

“Why haven’t you kissed me yet?” you ask as Jesse buries his face between your tits.

“I didn’t know if your mouth was off-limits,” he says. “Tup?”

Tup looks to you, and you give him a tiny smile.

“Give her what she wants,” Tup orders.

Jesse’s kiss is overpowering, breath-stealing, confident, assertive—just like the man. He ravages your mouth with tactical precision, all tongue and teeth and heat. When you reach your flat, the three of you crash through the door in a tangle of limbs and lips. Jesse kicks off his boots without ever pulling his mouth away from yours, even as you unfasten his uniform jacket and shove it down his arms. You fumble with his belt buckle, and his trousers are next to go, leaving him in only his boxers and undershirt.

You slide your hand inside the elastic waistband of his underwear and grasp the hot, rock-hard length of his cock, and you feel a sticky wetness on your wrist where his tip brushes against you. Reaching lower, you cup his balls.

“That all you got?” he asks with a cocky grin.

Raising an eyebrow, you take him in a firm hold, and a harsh groan wrenches from his throat as he thrusts against you. So he likes to play rough. Interesting.

“Enough,” Tup’s voice cuts through the need that clouds your brain, startling you with its harshness. “Jesse, strip. I want her to see you.”

You shoot an uncertain look at Tup, but Jesse only smirks.

“Enjoying being in command, little brother?” he asks, a taunt clear in his voice.

“Shut up and get naked, Jesse,” you order, and his eyes dart to yours in surprise, before darkening with arousal.

“Tup, you didn’t tell me she was so mean,” he says as he pulls off his shirt. “You’ve been holding out on me.”

“Nobody asked you to talk, pretty boy,” you reply.

“Shit,” he breathes, his movements slowing to a halt as he stares at you, his jaw slack.

You tilt your jaw imperiously, and he drops his boxers and steps out of them, and then he stands before you in full, glorious nudity. You try to maintain your bravado, but holy kriff, Jesse is something else. You know he’s older than Tup, and you can see it reflected in his body. Tup is strong and undeniably fit, but he’s leaner than Jesse, whose bulk is almost intimidating now that you can see the full extent of it. He has incredibly broad shoulders, a thick chest and solid core, and absolutely massive thighs. You reach a hand out to stroke down his abdominal muscles, and he shoots you a slow smirk that says he knows exactly how good he looks.

Undaunted, you make your way around him in a languid circle, stopping to admire his frankly incredible ass. He turns to watch you over his shoulder, and you notice that he subtly flexes his muscles as he does so.

“This isn’t a strip club, baby,” he says. “You can touch the goods.”

“I’m not your baby,” you say, but you slide your hand over his ass anyway, digging your nails in a bit as you squeeze the firm muscle.

As you circle back to stand in front of Jesse, Tup steps close behind you, hands drifting over your shoulders as he kisses your neck. You lean into him, and you hear the faint sound of a zipper lowering as your dress goes loose around you. He lets it drop to the ground, and you step out of it, still wearing your heels. Jesse hisses out a curse when he sees you standing in nothing but a sheer, lacy bra, matching panties, and thigh-high stockings held up by a flirty little garter belt.

“She isn’t mean to me,” Tup says with a smirk.

“Fuck me,” Jesse says, awed.

“That’s the plan,” you say.

“Do you think he’s earned it?” Tup asks.

You eye Jesse speculatively. His gaze is riveted to your tits, and you can tell how badly he wants to touch you by the way his hands clench and release. Tup sees it, too, and he torments his brother by stroking his big, calloused hands over your body, cupping your breasts and thumbing your nipples through the lace of your bra, then sliding a hand down to slip inside your underwear and caress your cunt. His fingers circle your clit and then slide inside, and your legs nearly buckle from pleasure.

“I’m not convinced,” you say, forcing yourself to keep a steady voice. “Maybe if he begs… On his knees.”

Jesse’s eyes snap to yours, and he gets that cocky look again—the one that says he’s not going down that easily, but Tup intervenes.

“God damn, you’re wet, baby,” he says, and you know he’s doing it on purpose to goad Jesse, because he never calls you that. “Sweetest little pussy in the galaxy. You should taste her, brother. I swear you’ll never want to eat anything else.”

He withdraws his fingers from you and brings his arm across your throat as he raises them to his mouth. You tilt your head back onto his shoulder and watch as he sucks your taste from his own hand. When you look at Jesse, he’s watching too, and he doesn’t say a word as he sinks to his knees.

“See? That wasn’t so hard,” you tease. “Unlike your cock. Maybe I’m not the only one who sees something to like.”

You step a foot between his knees and brush your leg against his erection. Fuck, he is absolutely rigid and dripping precum. He thrusts against your shin, smearing himself on your stocking.

“You’re making a mess,” you say.

“Clean her up, brother,” Tup commands.

Jesse wraps a hand around the back of your calf and slides it up to your knee, raising your leg to his mouth. Tup stabilizes you from behind, his strong arms holding you steady. He still has one hand on your breast while his other arm drapes across your throat, and the pressure is just enough to make you lightheaded. The coarse wool of his uniform scratches your skin, driving you wild with the thought of Tup, fully clothed, watching a fully nude Jesse explore your body. Jesse licks the sticky fluid off your leg, then begins working his way up, kissing and licking, and occasionally taking the sheer, delicate fabric of your stocking in his teeth and pulling it away from your skin, only to let it snap back against you. The pair will be ruined after tonight, but it’s worth it to see the frantic lust in Jesse’s eyes.

When he reaches the top of your thigh-high, he pauses his progress to slip his hand inside and stretch the fabric, eyes trained on the movement of his fingers beneath it. He spends so long admiring it that you nudge his cock with your high-heeled foot, just hard enough to pull another one of those delicious, ragged grunts from him.

“Pussy isn’t going to eat itself,” you say. “Be a good boy and get back to work.”

Tup makes a helpless sound in your ear, and Jesse takes a deep, shuddering breath. Obediently, he slides his hands up your thighs to squeeze your ass, brushing across the scrap of fabric covering your entrance, and then he tugs your panties down your legs.

“Clever girl, wearing them on top of the garter belt,” he murmurs.

“Fortune favors the prepared,” you smirk, but you don’t get to enjoy your victory for long, because Jesse hooks his shoulder under your thigh and plunges his tongue into you. “FUCK!”

Tup huffs a breath against your face as you scream out the curse, and you can feel his cock pressed against your ass. He stares down your body to where Jesse is joined to you, devouring your cunt with the ardor of a starving man.

“Can you hold her, brother?” he asks softly.

Jesse nods his head without ever pulling away from you, and without warning, Tup lifts you off the floor as Jesse pulls your other leg onto him so you’re seated fully on his shoulders, straddling his face.

Fuck, he’s strong, you marvel, as he supports your weight without difficulty. His hands grip your ass, angling you perfectly into his mouth, and within minutes, you feel your body tightening in on itself. You grab onto Jesse’s head as your hips instinctively begin to writhe, and when he scrapes his teeth across your clit, it shoves you violently over the precipice. You scream as you fly apart, but it isn’t Jesse’s name on your lips. Tup makes the sweetest sounds you’ve ever heard when he hears you chanting his name as he watches you come on his brother’s tongue.

“Can you take another, love?” he whispers hoarsely in your ear. “Will you let Jesse fuck you while I watch?”

Jesse is still working his tongue at a maddening pace, and your body jerks and thrashes between the two men. You’ve lost the capacity to speak, but you nod your head frantically, and Jesse finally withdraws from you. Tup lifts you off him and holds you, one arm under your knees and the other supporting your shoulders, as Jesse stands.

“Where?” Jesse asks.

“Sofa,” Tup says.

Jesse crosses to the couch, and Tup deposits you gently on his brother’s lap, then retrieves a chair from the kitchen table and sets it in front of you. He strips efficiently, and by the time Jesse has the two of you arranged, Tup is seated in front of you, legs spread wide as he lazily pumps his cock.

“Are you ready?” Jesse asks, his breath hot against the back of your neck.

“Yes,” you say, and you can’t quite keep your voice from shaking. “I want you to fuck me.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he says, and you can tell without looking that he’s grinning against your shoulder.

He eases into you slowly, and once he’s fully seated, he starts to move. You hang on for dear life as he fucks into you, your legs straddling his, and your arms stretched over your head to hold onto his neck. He cups your tits roughly, his fingers digging into your soft flesh, and when he pinches your nipples, you know he’s getting revenge for your little stunt with the high heel.

“Don’t hurt her,” Tup warns.

“She can take it,” Jesse grunts, his voice strained. “Can’t you, darlin’?”

“That all you got?” you ask, parroting his earlier snark.

He reaches down to play with your clit, and as he does, he leans the two of you backward so you’re nearly lying flat on top of him, which has the happy effect of laying you open on full display for Tup to appreciate.

“Oh, shit,” Tup breathes, barely audible.

Jesse pounds into you until your legs cramp and your body slicks with sweat. You keep your eyes on Tup, watching as his hand moves faster and more deliberately, until at last he grips himself in a tight fist, and with three final, brutal thrusts, he comes, shooting thick spurts of sticky, white cum across his torso. That’s all you need, and you convulse around Jesse’s cock, crying out in bliss.

“Fuck!” Jesse pants in your ear. “Shit—You’re going to make me—where do you want me to—”

“Not inside,” you gasp. “Come on my ass.”

He pulls out of you, and you drop to your knees on the floor between Tup’s thighs. Jesse scoots forward, and you can feel the slap of his cock and fist as he jerks himself against your ass. Leaning forward, you lick the cum off of Tup’s skin, delicately lapping up every last drop as he watches you from under hooded, sleepy eyelids. Jesse lets out a rough groan, and you feel liquid heat splatter on your lower back and slide down your ass.

He flops backward with a whimper that almost makes you want to go for a third round, but Tup gazes down at you with adoration in his beautiful caramel eyes, and you snuggle against his torso as he wraps his arms around you.

“You’re amazing,” he whispers. “Thank you.”

---

Tagging: @blueink-bluesoul @secondaryrealm @spicy-clones @wings-and-beskar @523rdrebel @goblininawig @merkitty49 @anxiouspineapple99 @sinfulsalutations @arcsimper5 @starrylothcat @clio3kantarella

#tupperware is for sharing #tup tuesday #clone trooper tup #arc trooper jesse #clone trooper tup x reader #sw tcw fanfic #tcw fanfic #dystopicjumpsuit writes #juicy jesse

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celli-ohs · 5 months

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awooga!

part one of accidentally in love! series shy!soobin x popular!reader; college!au, strangers to friends to lovers! fluff, comedy, angst (possible smut in the future, idk yet)

2. beautiful glorious blue-eyed king (written portion included 1.9k)

Soobin is starving. It’s 8:47 pm, and they don’t close until 9. Not only that, he agreed to take Jaemin’s shift when he had an assignment due at 10 pm. Apparently, Jaemin’s friends were all at some club, and of course he could not miss out. If he were being honest, Soobin really didn’t mind staying, especially since Jaemin said he’d cover for him whenever he needed next time. But as his stomach grumbled from the lack of food, he was beginning to regret his choices. He’s idly cleaning the counters while daydreaming about dinner when the door chimes. A customer? At nearly 9pm? Soobin takes his time as he turns around to greet them. “Welcome in-” He suddenly chokes, coughing over his words. He quickly tries to gulp down some water. “Woah, are you okay?” Your sweet voice causes him to cough again.

What were you doing here?!? Why did you come so late, where there’s no one else but you and him!? No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no! Oh god, as if he hadn’t embarrassed himself enough with the last time you’d come in. “Hey, you good?” You call out from the other side of the counter. Soobin’s coughing has subsided, but he still can’t look at you, he sends you an awkward thumbs up. He hears you shuffle behind him as he drinks a bit more water. Eventually he’s going to have to turn around, he can’t have you waiting there forever. So with a brave face, he spins around and gives you the most happy smile he could manage. “W-What can I get you?” He stutters, mentally kicking himself. You look up at him curiously, before your expression changes to concern.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You seem kinda pale.” You comment. He shakes his head, a bit too aggressively. “Yes, I’m fine! Sorry, I- Uh did you want to order anything?” He fidgets and gestures to the menu. Your attention moves to the list of various drinks. As you’re scanning for your choice, Soobin is busy trying to calm down. God you were so pretty, even prettier up close! Even when you’re dressed so casually, you’re so cute. Was he staring too much? It’s rude to stare, but he can’t help it, you’re stunning- “Can I get a hot chocolate, extra syrup please?” You ask, finally looking back up at him. “Yeah,” He nods, not even bothering to ring you up as he makes your drink quickly. “Thanks,” You take the hot to-go cup from his hand. “How much do I owe you?” You ask. Soobin only shakes his head, causing you to look at him confused.

“You’re Arin’s friend right? It’s fine, it’s only hot chocolate.” He insists, hoping that by giving you a free drink you’d feel his sincere apology from your last visit. But you stare at the cup, then at him, and then back at the cup. “You guys take tips, right?” You ask, gesturing to the jar. Before he can answer, you fish out a couple of bucks, tossing them in. “You don’t have to do that.” He feels embarrassed. You ignore him and ask him another question instead. “Have we met? Before the whole spilling-coffee-on-me thing happened.” He wants to burn that memory from his brain. You take a sip of your hot chocolate as you wait for him to respond. “N-No, not really.” He shrugs. “But I know who you are, Y/n.” There’s a shift in your eyes and he’s suddenly backtracking, trying to defend himself.

“I mean! Not because I’m weird or anything! Arin and Chaeryeong sometimes mention you. Sunghoon says you’re best friends with one of his friends, and actually my best friend Yeonjun, his frat throws parties a lot and you always beat him in beer pong. And I remember you dropped by our apartment once to give some things to Taehyun and- uh yeah, I guess I know you.” He rambles, though he can’t even look in your general direction as he does so. You probably think he’s a stalker, or some kind of weirdo fan. He hopes you just walk out the door so he can close up and quit his job so he never has to see you again. Why did you have to come in tonight?! “Well,” You sigh, signaling to Soobin that you haven’t left like he wished. “That makes me feel bad cause we’ve obviously met, but I don’t even know your name.”

Oh. Soobin stands up straighter, finally making eye contact with you. “I-It’s Soobin- My name is Soobin.” He tells you, almost excitedly. You smile at him and his heart is pounding so loud he almost can’t hear you speak. “Nice to officially meet you Soobin.” He loves the way his name sounds coming from your tongue. It’s so smooth and sweet, like frosting. He wants to hear you say it again and again and again. But he doesn’t, because the next thing the both of you hear is the loud growling of his stomach. Soobin is frozen as you stifle a giggle. “Are you hungry? You guys close soon right? Wanna grab some food?” You suggest. “Uh- sure. Yeah, I’d love to!” Soobin fumbles, looking at his watch for the time. It’s 9:02. “Let me just close up real quick, I can meet you outside.” He promises, and watches you head out. You can’t tell when he’s walking to the back room, but he’s grinning from ear to ear.

You’d be lying if you said you didn't ask Soobin out to eat because of how sad he looked. Because he admittedly looked really sad. With his flitting eyes, mumbling and shaky hands, you felt so bad when his poor stomach began to growl. But now you find yourself sitting side by side with him, eating spicy rice cakes under a tent. “Here,” You pour him some beer, as he shoves food into his mouth. “Oh, thank you,” He mumbles, covering his mouth as he chews. The air is stiff and awkward, you two have been eating in nearly complete silence since you came ten minutes ago. Feeling the need, you clear your throat. “So,” You swallow your food. “You said you’re friends with Yeonjun?” You try to start a conversation. Soobin sits up, eyes never meeting yours. “Yeah, we- we’ve known each other since we were kids.” You look up a bit surprised. “I’m also roommates with Taehyun, that’s why I said that earlier,” He references himself moments ago back at the cafe.

“Besties with a frat boy, roomies with an athlete, and working with the campus heartthrobs,” You tease, laughing to yourself. “You’re popular.” The word popular has Soobin’s eyes popping out of his head. “Oh no! No, no, no, no, no, no, no!” He shakes his head and hands simultaneously, a gesture you find cute. “I’m not popular at all, I just, you know, know them.” He shrugs. “You’re way more popular than me,” He points out. For some reason that makes you frown. Soobin notices and begins to fret again, obviously thinking he’d upset you. “That’s not a bad thing! It’s nice to be popular.” He tries to defend. You blink and revert back to your smiley self, shaking your head as you wave him off. “Sorry, you don’t have to do that,” You go back to eating. The two of you fall back into silence, though this time the atmosphere is thicker than before.

With a brave face, Soobin asks the question that’s been bugging you. “Do you not like being popular?” You pout, deep in thought as you place your chopsticks down. “I mean it’s not a bad thing like you said.” You sigh, leaning back into your chair. “But it’s weird.” You finally look up, meeting Soobin’s eyes. “It’s almost as if so many people know me, but no one knows me.” As the words slip from your mouth, you instantly regret them. Why were you getting so sappy with a guy who was practically a stranger to you? You begin to internally panic, Soobin probably wasn’t expecting a therapy session with you when you offered to pay for his dinner. “Well, I’m kinda the same way, right? You said so yourself, I'm friends with so many people others know, but no one really knows me.” Soobin offers, just as he shoves a bunch of rice cakes into his mouth. You watch him silently as he eats awkwardly under your gaze.

Somehow, your situations were a lot more similar than they seemed. It was pathetic, in its own way. You sigh and nod, taking a sip of the warm fish cake broth. “I guess we are,” You mumble. The tension doesn’t seem to be relieved, but rather thicker. You feel as if you can’t even move, the sticky rice cakes stuck against the roof of your mouth. “I-Is that Gojo?” Soobin stutters, and at the sound of your fictional husband’s name has you wide awake. “Huh?” You sit up and finally realize what he’s talking about. He’s pointing to the little keychain you had attached to your bag. You’re surprised he recognized it, as it was technically a Gojo Cat charm, the white cat skipping happily with a smile and his iconic glasses. “You know Jujutsu Kaisen?” You ask, a bit surprised. “Yeah, I'm almost done with season 1.” Soobin answered confidently. You’re stunned as he begins to ramble. “Is Gojo your favorite? He’s mine too. Did you hear about the movie coming out soon? I want to go see it so bad! It takes place before Yuuji, it’s about Yuta Okkotsu, right? The trailer looked so sick, I can’t wait!”

You finally end up laughing so hard you almost knock over your soup. Soobin chuckles alongside you as you regain your composure. “To answer your question, yes Gojo Satoru is my favorite. I did hear about the movie, and yeah it’s about Yuta.” You answer all of his little questions with a smile. “It comes out next month I think.” You hum, beginning to eat again. “Do you read the manga?” Soobin asks. “Yeah, but I prefer to watch, I like to hear their voices.” You admit, and he nods along. “Especially Gojo’s, his voice is so sexy,” You exaggerate a sigh, and smirk at Soobin. He sits there in shock, cheeks reddening just a bit, before he scoffs. He sets down his chopsticks, and suddenly cups his own cheeks in the palms of his hands. “I know, isn’t he so dreamy? I could listen to him all day.” Soobin instantly begins to mock you. In playful defense, you gasp loudly, glaring at him jokingly. “Are you making fun of me?” Soobin ignores you as he continues. “And he’s so strong! The strongest! I just want him to rescue me like a damsel in distress!” Soobin clasps his hands together as he pretends to daydream.

You, on the other hand, are fighting for your life not to laugh, you're physically vibrating as you try to contain yourself. Seeing this, Soobin pulls all the stops as he pouts. “He’s so tall too! I want to climb him like a tree!” He practically shouts for all the strangers around you to hear. You can’t help but break character, snorting all over your food as your gut begins to cramp from all your laughter. “Stop it! Oh my God everyone can hear you!” You wheeze. “Okay, I’ll stop,” He chuckles, calming down. You’re wiping tears away just as he gives one last shout. “I just love my beautiful glorious blue-eyed king!” “

“Shut up!”

Bonus:

Y/n 100% forgot she came to the cafe to return Arin's hoodie the second Soobin offered her a drink

Soobin actually noticed the Gojo Cat charm on Y/n's bag on their walk to the tteokbokki tent but didn't know how to bring it up subtly

Someone DID in fact record Soobin spilling coffee all over Y/n and that someone was Jaemin (he decided to go on break right at rush hour and was recording snaps for his streaks, the incident just happened to be in the background of his selfie)

Y/n had to temporarily mute the gc because Jen exploded after Keeho's comment

Sunghoon actually has no idea if Soobin's gonna get fired or not, he just didn't want his friend to feel bad

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deijiyong · 9 months

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Navigation: Next Part | Story Masterlist | Masterlist

2015 April 26th - Taeyong accosts you at the bookstore

Thank goodness for the weekend

Sundays were your favorite day of the whole week

You were able to go off campus and explore the neighborhood around SNU on Sundays which is how you found a small bookstore with a friendly old man running it

You were able to sit outside with a mountain full of books to read

However, this time, you had gone there with a purpose

You had a list of books your professor for Korean Language had recommended to you in order to practice reading

Child books up to a Korean translation of the first Harry Potter book

You’re searching through the shelves and stacks of books for your mission

You barely hear someone come in

Don’t even hear the glass-panned door slide open

Only when they call out their greeting do you glance towards the entrance briefly

The person in the doorway causes sweat to break out on your hands

You close the children’s book you’ve been studying in your hand and try your best to discreetly make your way back to the old man with your stack of books

He sees you coming and is already holding out his hands to receive the books from you

However Taeyong stops you short

YN?

You turn and bow in greeting, choosing to turn back to the owner and hand the books over

He doesn’t seem to take the hint as he sidles up to you; eying your books

Children’s books?

For studying

She speaks!

The old man tells you the price and you hand him the notes needed to pay for the stack of books

He gives you the change and starts packing them in a plastic bag

I’m sorry

I didn’t mean to be rude

You weren’t

I kind of wanted to be friends

You thank the old man when he hands you the bag of books and turn towards the door; Taeyong stands between you and your exit

He stares at you and it’s only then that you remember what he said

He wanted to be friends

Friends with you? The girl that had no friends on campus?

The girl that was known only to talk to her teachers?

Why?

Why not? Everyone needs friends

Why me?

You seem to have plenty of friends

I know it goes against societal decorum here

But you didn’t make friends at orientation

So there was no way for me to reach you through the girls in your dorm

You go back the opposite way, taking the long route to leave the bookstore

It doesn’t stop Taeyong from following you; obviously determined

Don’t you want at least one friend here?

Not really

You can hear him scoff and it chars something in you

Why does he think he knows you so well? He had nothing to go on

You round on him just at the coffee booth outside your dorm

Look, I don’t know what you think you know about me

But I’m sure it’s wrong

So please leave me alone

YN, come on, be my friend

That’s all I want

You stare at him for a long moment

You sigh and give in

Fine, we’re friends

Really?

If it will get you to leave me alone

Let me see your phone

My phone?

Come on!

You pull your phone out, unlocking it before he can tell you to

He pauses for a moment when he stares down at it

Your own eyes stare down and realize you had put the picture of you and Changkyun from graduation as your background

That’s my best friend from back home

You don’t know why you defend your background

He was basically forcing himself into your life right now

Cool

Taeyong had said it rather nonchalant, but you can tell something about the picture bothered him

He plays around on your phone for a bit and you let him

You choose to turn and grab a coffee from the coffee booth just behind you

The lady that runs it already making your americano before you can ask for it

You only turn back to him when the coffee is in your hand

Done?

You only have 5 contacts?

A girl like you? Only 5?

It’s weird

You take your phone back

Taeyong’s name at the bottom of your contact list stands out sorely

The only weird thing is you barging into my life

Why not bother Jisoo, mr. idol?

I see her plenty (he shrugs)

What’s with the Mr. Idol nickname

Isn’t that what you are?

An idol-in-training?

So you’ve heard about that?

Girls gossip

Taeyong shoves his hands into his pockets as you both walk towards the stone bench across from the coffee stand

He settles in next to you, quietly waiting as you sip on your coffee

What?

I didn’t say anything

That’s what worries me

You seem to be someone that’s always the center of attention

Why are you so quiet

Trying to figure you out

You don’t talk about yourself

Yet you seem to have friends back home

But the last time someone wrote you was last month

It’s odd, but fascinating

So much for personal space

You stand and stare down at him, taking another sip of coffee

I’m going to go study

Books to translate

I’ll see you around

You promise yourself to find a new bookstore after today

A new coffee stand on campus

Maybe you’ll just buy yourself a Keurig from IKEA

You were not going to meet Taeyong ever again

Note: I know not everyone celebrates, but I just wanted to say Happy Holidays. I hope things are going good for everyone.

#monsta x fanfic #monsta x fanfiction #mx fanfic #mx fanfiction #changkyun fanfic #changkyun fanfiction #i.m fanfic #i.m fanfiction #changkyun x reader #i.m x reader #nct taeyong #beside u (ck ff)

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justmybookthots · 10 months

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Hush, Hush

The reason I read this? Because a booktuber I was following shared an hour-long video of her reacting to the entire series and I was like: hey! I read part of the first book as a teen! And since I just recently reread City of Bones (see review), why not continue my streak of rereading trashy YA relics? It's the archaeologist in me speaking, I swear. And also the masochist!

Now, after finishing this book, I have come to announce in my review that I am really, really burnt-out. 😂 It's… a lot of teenage angst. I'm only done with the first book and this madwoman pushed herself and read ALL FOUR BOOKS:

The sheer IRONY of her video title given that I read it because I saw her video, LOL.

So I don't even know how to begin this review. First of all, I definitely found City of Bones more enjoyable than this. Does it mean City of Bones is a better book? Eh. I think CoB had more things in the plot to distract me (finding the Cup, lots of magical adventure) from the main leads, but this book circles a lot around Patch and Nora.

And boy were both of them the weirdest people to exist.

I want to say they're a product of their time, and in a way they are, but I've also seen other books in this time that aren't this bad. Regardless, you can really see how aged the book is from this interaction here:

All the mean-girl Marcie did call Nora was "geek" and "freak" but Nora? Not just did she slut-shame Marcie, she called her an anorexic pig. This is our heroine, guys. This is who we're supposed to root for. It's genuinely hilarious how the masses collectively ignored how problematic this was in 2009.

In any case: Nora spends most of her days swooning over Patch while simultaneously telling herself how dangerous he is. I get the "dangerous" part, but the swooning? What? HOW? Other than him looking (I guess?) physically attractive, there is NOTHING about him to swoon about. He is so creepy, I swear if he said half the things he did to me IRL, I'd call the cops and file a restraining order. LIKE, I'M NOT KIDDING. THIS MAN HAS ZERO GAME. ZERO. When asked by the biology teacher what he looks for in a mate (I know. The question was already, um, hella weird), Patch says things like:

"Intelligent. Attractive. Vulnerable."

Vulnerable?? VULNERABLE. This is Creeper 101. Also during his first meeting with Nora, out of nowhere, he goes:

"Do you sleep naked?" he asked.

There's a thousand more examples of him saying the weirdest, creepiest shit, but it'd be tomorrow by the time I list them out. My point is: if this is him trying to flirt, it's giving police sirens. And Nora's reaction, instead of running from him, is to dwell on how conflicted she is about her attraction (??) and fear towards him. At some point, she's stalking his workplace to interview his coworkers if he's a felon or has a criminal record and I KID YOU NOT, her last question ending this is: Does he have a girlfriend?

And I don't even want to talk about her best "friend", Vee. I use quotation marks because this isn't really a friend but bless the author, she seems to believe Vee is remotely some kind of friend to Nora. When Elliot (some dude in the story) assaults Nora, this is what Vee says:

Guys, Elliot is going to feel so horrible tomorrow after assaulting Nora. 🙁 Vee is SO right, we need to worry about the pain he's in instead of taking the matter of assault seriously. Because fuck your best "friend" since Elliot is more important, am I right?

To make matters worse, Elliot was assaulting Nora to try to coerce her to go on a camping trip with him and Vee. So get this: Vee, despite hearing about the assault, STILL tries to persuade Nora to go on the camping trip because it'd be fun! In the end, Vee going for the camping trip causes Nora to have to rescue her (since Elliot is obviously a deviant), and Nora practically endangers her life to save Vee's sorry ass. Me, I'm not so kind. I'd munch popcorn and sip wine and have a jolly good time picturing Vee getting murdered. Cheers!

Anyway. Negative points aside, I didn't see the Jules twist coming, and I kinda did like that. The downside, however, is that everyone is an idiot, especially Nora. For example, the new therapist Miss Greene was clearly shady from the start—she'd say the sketchiest nonsense, and Nora would just be vaguely suspicious before taking it all in stride. It's WILD. Her behaviour for 80% of this book makes zero fucking sense. The only thing I can commend her for is that she's proactively trying to solve an investigation for most of the book... even if she's going the worst possible way at it.

And also when Patch says at the end of the book that he's fallen for Nora and no longer plans to sacrifice her? I was like, WHEN? When did you fall for her? Most of your interactions were just you saying creepy stuff and her thinking about how hot and dangerous you were. When did the falling-in-love happen, exactly?

I AM SO CONFUSED.

I don't really have more to say about this book other than I am really, really hoping we (as readers or writers) have collectively moved on from this madness in 2023. In any case, will I continue this series? I don't know. I do like trashy reality TV, but too much of it and I might get a stroke. Reading City of Bones and then this almost back to back has taken me out. (And yet… there is a distant INANE part of me that's whispering: Time to go back and reread every trashy YA series circa 2010.)

- 16 Nov 2023

#book review #book blog #hush hush #becca fitzpatrick #romance books #the shadowhunter chronicles #shadowhunters #cassandra clare

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dooppooo · 2 years

Text

mdni - impact play, oral (f receiving), nipple play, finger sucking, degrading, mocking, slight choking, slight overstimulation

Requests Open!

Prompt List

Mmmm Dom!Armin gets me hot and bothered

Armin was always the sweet brainiac, right?

Not necessarily the strongest one of the bunch in terms of physical strength, but Goddamnit was he smart. Armin was nothing short of a genius and knew exactly what to say in order to get the desired outcome. Though it wasn't his best asset - Armin was a fantastic manipulator.

But of course, he only used his sly words when need be. Not once did he have to use them against you, his wonderful girlfriend, because there was no reason for you to conform under his pressure! More often than not you were on his side, so all he could reply with was a compliment or a soft joke to hear you giggle.

That was...until you asked to spice things up in the bedroom:

"I-I don't want you to take this the wrong way, because I'm pretty happy about our sex life..."

"...but?" He hated how hesitant you were to communicate with him sometimes.

With a nervous sigh, you finished, "but I want to try something new."

Armin pressed for you to elaborate.

"Well, ya know - I'm always in charge and I'd like, uh, for you to maybe take over sometime." You anxiously picked at your nails and shot nervous glimpses at him from your peripheral vision.

And Armin was completely open to the idea, endlessly welcoming to it! But there was one problem; he wasn't very experienced at being dominant in the bedroom. Though, that wasn't much of an obstacle, because Armin would go to the ends of the Earth and back if it meant you were completely satisfied.

After your quick talk, you took to the shower and Armin leapt for his phone, sending a message to the group chat.

Armin: guys I have a very serious question and I need you all to save your jokes for later

Eren: uuuu is everything ok?

Jean: yeah man what's going on

Connie: this outta be good

Armin: okay so...Y/n said she wanted to reverse rolls

Eren: ??? tf does that mean

Armin: like...in the bedroom

Connie: oh!!! being a bottom is so fun you'll love it

Jean: yeah I don't mind it from time to time

Armin: ...

Eren: you don't have to be scared, I doubt Y/n is going to do anything weird or scary

Armin: let's say - hypothetically - I was already pretty familiar with being a bottom

Connie: oh...my...god

Armin: I said save your jokes!!!

Jean: that wasn't what I was expecting

Eren: just call her a bitch

Armin: NO!! why would I ever do that?

Eren: trust me.

Jean: for once I actually have to agree with Eren, be mean.

Connie: just do like, idk, what she does to you but onto her

Jean: Connie you take years off of my life

Eren: don't be brutal but make it a point that you're in charge, be confident

Armin: that's easy for you to say.

Eren: just try it, you might like it more than you think

Jean: you could mix praising and degrading too

Armin: uuuu how does that work

Jean: be like "my pretty slut," shit like that

Connie: is that what you liked to be called Jean?

Jean: no but ur mom does

Armin: well thx for the advice

Eren: let's us know how it goes

Armin: absolutely not

Connie: lameeeeeee

"Everything okay?"

Your voice startled the blonde boy, his phone fumbling in his hands and a bright fuchsia painted his cheeks.

"Uh-uh yeah! Yeah I'm fine no worries." He clamped his hands and phone between his thighs before looking up to you with a crooked smile.

Your towel was wrapped around your chest, the tops of your breast exposed with droplets of water still beading down them. Armin's eyes locked onto your skin and his skin burned even more red.

"Mmm doesn't seem like it." You pursed your lips.

Armin swallowed thickly and quickly shook his head, struggling to meet your gaze, "Nope, I'm a-okay!"

You figured standing before him half nude and dripping wet wasn't helping the erection pressing against his sweatpants nor the glossy look in his eyes. So you hummed and sauntered off to your shared room, letting the towel drop and the cold air in your room ripple your body with goosebumps.

In the closet, you searched your dresser drawers for a nightgown - preferably something thin since the nights had grown more and more warm with the change in season. Armin curled up next to you at night only added to the heat trapped under your blankets, his body mimicking an oven and you an ice cube.

Plucking a light pink, spaghetti strap gown from deep within the drawer, you grinned and turned to the mirror, excited to put on something so dainty. However, you gasped and clutched the garment over your chest in a startled frenzy.

"God Armin! You're gonna kill me one day doing that." You scolded, narrowing your eyes at him through his reflection.

Then you busied yourself with your gown, shaking it out of its crumpled state and readying to slip it on, but a warm breath fanned over your neck and cemented your joints.

"You don't need that." Armin purred into your ear, grasping the fabric from your hands and leaving you exposed in front of the mirror.

You turned your head to gauge a better view of his expression. Sultry eyes, mischievous smirk, low voice.

"Are you sure you're feeling okay?"

His response was to lace your fingers in his and drift you both over to the bed, guiding you up the mattress and against the pillows.

"What's-"

Two fingers shot into your mouth and pressed down on your tongue.

"Stop asking questions." His other hand explored your freshly cleaned abdomen and dusted over your stiffened nipples. Then his palm harshly groped at your tit, leaving you hissing around his digits, "Seems you like that," he noted, "Maybe you'd like this too."

His thumb and forefinger clamped down on one of your nipples, slowly twisting and feeling the vibrations of your whimper against his other fingers, "Mmm looks like I was right, let's see what else you like."

In an effort to gain more knowledge, you tried to gurgle out his name questioningly, only it resulted in his digits venturing further down your tongue.

His large eyes snapped to yours, "I said stop with the fucking questions. Unless you like my fingers down your throat. You would wouldn't you? Fucking whore."

Completely astonished, your brows nearly dusted your hairline and your eyes threatens to pop from their sockets. You'd stutter about his behavior if it wasn't for the fingers knuckle deep in your mouth. Sure, you figured Armin was brewing up something to make an attempt at being dominant, however you didn't expect him to fully sell the part.

With his fingers still against your tongue, Armin repositioned himself between your legs, propped on his knees. His other hand harshly gripped your knee and forced your legs open, revealing your center.

"Maybe it's time for a little pay back for all those nights you edged me for hours. I'm sure your cunt could take it," he smirked, "No, you will take it."

Armin's words left you yelping, blooming a new type of fear in your chest. You weren't scared of Armin in a way that you felt you needed to flee and cry for help, but rather nervously anticipated his actions. The unknowing left you desperate for his next move, yet you cowered against the sheets.

His fingers slipped from your lips in order to grasp your jaw and force your gaze onto him, faces inches away, "Are you done squirming?"

You nodded dumbly, your head spinning.

"Good, let's keep it that way." He patted your cheek and grinned sarcastically.

Then he slithered back down, pressing your thighs up and back until they were against your torso. You had been naked in front of Armin plenty of times, showered with him even, but now more than ever you felt incredibly exposed to him.

Humming with delight, Armin watched your folds glisten for a moment before adding his own touch of nectar with his tongue. His tongue felt like it was coated in hot molasses, prodding and playing with your cunt. Usually you'd be hovering over him, fingers tangled in his hair and rocking your hips against his face, so it was a little frustrating not to have your pleasure in your control.

"Armin c'mon.." you whined and arched your back slightly toward him. A stinging sensation left you jolting against the linens and gasping, "Did you just-"

Another smack cut off your sentence.

"What did I tell you about questions?"

You peered between your thighs with raised brows and speechless, meeting a dark, threatening stare. This time you watched him slap your cunt.

"Answer me when I talk to you."

Gulping you shakily replied, "No questions."

He nodded and returned his attention to the task at hand, "That's right."

Again his muscle was swirling against your clit and adventuring through your womanhood at an aggravatingly slow rate, but you didn't chance rutting your hips into his face. Frustrated, you flopped back against the pillows and let your hands get lost in the sheets, resting all responsibility on Armin's shoulders.

That's when the true sensation of oral pleasure consumed you. The blissful heat of Armin's tongue and lips melding with your pussy, how your clit was thousands times more sensitive compared to when fingers caressed it; the slowness of it all gave you time to truly enjoy what was being offered to you. Instead of panting and groaning, you were sighing and moaning.

Every so often Armin would let one of your legs drift open or rest against his back, fumbling with different positions - but at all times your thighs were spread. He needed as much access to you as possible to see what he was working with, get a true look at what made him a feral, pouty mess most nights and early mornings. How he didn't want to switch rolls sooner was a mystery to him, because the view before him was quite literally something to feast upon. Sometimes he'd pause just to get a view of the mess he was making, only to dive back in ten times stronger.

Your hands were lost in the pillows, eyes closed and the feeling of Armin's spit and your slick dripping down your thighs and onto the sheets. If you had given the blonde man a chance to be proactive sooner, you would've been able to relish in the euphoria he had your body melting in. Your new idea of heaven was having Armin between your legs all night long.

The struggle in your sighs and whimpering undertones of your moans let Armin know he needed to up the intensity. Your orgasm was nearing its peak and he was the sole ruler of it, and as much as he wanted to see you wriggle and beg, he was dying to see your jaw drop and taste every last drop of your release. So his tongue flicked faster against your clit, and his eyes flitted up to your expression to watch your bottom lip get pinched between your teeth and your brows knit.

"Mmm, God, just like that." You purred, keeping your eyes squeezed shut as you reached down to work your fingers into his soft, champagne hair.

Though his jaw was growing tired, he didn't let up for a second, seeing your jaw gradually drop and feeling your nails dig deeper into his scalp. When your hips started jerking and rolling instinctively, Armin knew the lighting in you was burning hotter and hotter.

Then it exploded.

Like second nature you ground your heat against the rhythm of his tongue to intensify your rush as much as possible. You moaned loudly and uncontrollably at the sensation, completely consumed in the feeling. The cherry on top was Armin digging his fingertips into your thighs and forcing you closer to him, smothering himself.

"Fuck!" You shuddered, overstimulation leaving your muscles limp and waist jittering.

The only thing stopping Armin from his ministrations was your palm pressing against his forehead and pleading for him to give you time to breathe. You settled back against the sheets and gasped for air, letting the clouds swirling in your brain slowly fade - all but spent.

But a hand grasped your throat and jerked you from your laying position, quickly ripping you from your post-orgasm state.

"We're done when I saw we are."

#aot smut #armin arlet smut #armin attack on titan #snk armin #armin smut #armin aot #armin arlert #armin arlet x you #armin arlet imagines #attack on titan smut

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fanficimagery · 3 years

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When Enough is Enough pt. II

Imagine being let down one too many times by your best friend, only to end up making some new ones in the process.

Words: 8.5K Author’s Note: Okay so some of you asked to only be added to part 2 of this while others asked to be added everything Bucky.. and a few others weren’t exactly clear. So if you want to be tagged in any future Bucky related imagines please let me know so I can get your blog name written down on my list.

Tags: @aya-fay @70s-chic @sipsteacasually @kaitlyn2907 @scarlettwitch99 @thingsforimagination @mimilh @felicityofbakerstreet @eternalharry @eliwinchester99 @intothesoul @wintershadowkat @b1sexualtonystark @meredeph @miszswan

The Sunday before you are to return to work, you sleep in until nine in the morning. Your thoughts are immediately on Bucky's impending arrival and you couldn't help the butterflies that took flight in your stomach. He's a friend, just as all the others are, but you couldn't help but notice just how attractive this new friend of yours is. But not only does his attractiveness draw you in, his easy-going teasing and protectiveness does too. However, Bucky Barnes is still a man trying to find his footing in this world after all that's been done to him and finally getting his name cleared, and if he finds comfort with you then you're going to try your best and be the friend he needs.

So since you're not dressing to impress, you dress in your favorite lazy outfit after your shower- leggings, sports bra, a faded sleeveless band tee with the arm holes having been cut down to around your ribs, and a pair of socks. Damp hair gets gathered up into a messy bun and you walk around your apartment to pick up some things you had unknowingly left out.

You've skipped breakfast, so when there's a knock on your door and you open up to find Bucky standing there, you groan in relief. He raises both hands with paper bags hanging from each. "I come bearing sushi. Wanda let it slip how much you love it."

"Yesss." You step back, quickly taking in his own comfort outfit of sweatpants and a plain black t-shirt under an opened jacket. "Did you bring plenty of wasabi? And you can just kick off your shoes anywhere."

"Of course." He hands you the bags so he can kick off his shoes and strip out of his jacket before hanging it up. You don't know why, but seeing him in a short sleeve shirt makes you happy, knowing full well he was weird about his metal arm being out in the open. "And plenty of dipping sauce as well. Wanda was more than happy to give me advice."

"Wanda, huh?" You chuckle, leading the way to your kitchen. "You actually told her where'd you be?"

"Apparently I looked very pensive this morning. She asked and I figured she was a better confidant than Steve or Sam who would have made a big deal about us hanging out."

"True." Setting the bags down, you let him empty them while you head to the fridge. "Beer?"

"Yeah."

Grabbing him a beer and yourself a can of Cola, you return to the table and your eyes widen at the sight of all the sushi. "Damn, Barnes. That's a lot of sushi."

"Don't act like you won't eat half of it."

You laugh as you take a seat, handing him his beer and pulling a few trays to your side of the table. You take a container of wasabi and dipping sauce for yourself, and grab a pair of chopsticks to start digging in.

You moan in delight at your first taste, happily shimmying in your seat before taking another. Eventually, you ask, "So what are you going to do when I'm back at work and I can't keep you entertained by getting shitfaced?"

Bucky grins around his mouthful of food before chasing it down with a swig of his beer. "We actually got a mission comin' up so I'll be leavin' around mid-week."

"Well that sucks." You sigh. "Now who am I going to send random pictures to when I have downtime at work?"

He grins. "You can still send them to me. I just won't get back to you until after the mission's complete."

"Yeah, yeah."

The two of you continue to eat- Bucky dodging Steve's texts about where he is and when he's coming back, and you sending the middle finger emoji over and over to Wanda who keeps wondering how your date is going. Then once most of the sushi is gone and Bucky puts what little is left into the fridge, the two of you head to the living room. You immediately flop onto the couch as Bucky takes the plush recliner, only for you to hear him moving the chair into its reclined position seconds later.

"Oh. I definitely need to get one of these."

You laugh as he snuggles down and you pick up the remote to bring up your streaming services. "Anything you've been meaning to watch?"

"Not really. Just show me your favorites."

You start off with some humor by playing the Goonies. It's a movie that no matter how many times you've seen it, it always seems to make you laugh. And it seems Bucky is not immune either when they make Chunk to the truffle shuffle. Titanic plays afterwards, but only after making sure Bucky found it somewhat interesting after reading the movie summary to him. He is interested from beginning to end and doesn't even laugh at you when you shed a few tears for the old married couple who opt to stay in their bed as the room floods.

When a break is needed, you head off towards the bathroom as Bucky finishes off the leftover sushi. Both of you check your phones and read each other the missed text messages from Steve and his worrying behavior.

"Wanna tell Steve to fuck off via video message?" Bucky takes a moment to think on it before he grins and nods. "Excellent. Sit in the recliner. I'm gonna crawl up all in your business. That okay?"

"Yeah."

As Bucky gets comfortable in the recliner, you sit on the armrest before sliding down sideways onto his lap. You bring up the camera app on your phone and switch it to video, sliding your right arm behind Bucky's neck while holding your left arm out to capture the two of you on the screen. "Ready?"

"Sure, doll."

You chuckle quietly and then smirk mischievously as Bucky relaxes his expression into his best resting bitch face. After you hit record, you say, "Hey Rogers, stop being a little bitch and sending us text after text. I'm tryin' to fuck your best friend here." Bucky's expression cracks as he barks out a laugh and you turn to face him while grinning. You share a laugh with him before facing the camera once more. "Only joking, but seriously stop buggin' us. I promise to send him back in one piece."

As you prepare to send the text to Steve, Bucky says, "You're terrible."

"Whatever. Admit it, you adore me."

"Occasionally."

You huff another laugh as the video message finally sends. You and Bucky both watch as the delivered status turns to read, and then those three little dots appear as Steve starts typing his reply.

"Tell Bucky to wrap it before he taps it." You burst out laughing at Steve's text, Bucky's rumbling laughter only fueling yours even more. "God I hate your best friend sometimes." And before you climb off Bucky's lap, because honestly you were getting a little too comfortable, you send Steve a few middle finger emojis before deciding on a third movie to watch.

The third movie you choose is one that never fails to make you laugh- Bridesmaids. You had a moment of hesitancy because of the sex scenes, but you figured they were ridiculous enough that it wouldn't be awkward. Thankfully you're correct and you get the added bonus of hearing Bucky's laughter again during Megan's scenes, especially when they get food poisoning and are all fighting for the bathroom.

You and Bucky take yet another break after the film, just stretching and finding something to drink.

"So what's the verdict, Barnes? Are you enjoying the films?"

He grins. "Your taste is all over the place, huh? That last one we watched was raunchy."

"But hilarious! You need to watch the Hangover trilogy, but you definitely need to watch that with Steve and then watch him squirm at the pictures that roll with the credits."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Jurassic Park holds his attention and he can't help but comment how stupid one has to be to replicate dinosaur DNA and then open up a park with live dinosaurs. You laugh, but don't bother commenting. You'll tell him later there are more movies involved, with yet another idiotic man who felt he could get the park up and running once more.

It's getting dark, but it's still a little too early for dinner. One more movie and then you'll order or go out and pick something up.

"So this last one for the day is a movie that's directed more towards the female viewers, but you did ask for my favorite films and Practical Magic is my absolute favorite."

"Well put it on, doll."

As you press play on Practical Magic, you quickly grab a throw blanket and snuggle in. Instead of watching Bucky, you watch the film and mumble certain quotes to yourself. The magic scenes always bring a soft smile to your face just as Gary's confession to Sally of I wished for you too breaks your heart, and Sally and Gillian's heartfelt sister moment makes you cry.

Afterwards, Bucky hums in thought. "So that's your favorite?"

"Absolutely." You tell him. He's watching you curiously and you grin. "If I show you something, you promise not to laugh?"

"I'll try."

"Whatever. That's good enough for me." Standing up, you walk towards him and kneel, and tell him to pull your shirt sideways by the armhole next to your left arm. There on the back of your left shoulder and forever etched into your skin is a salt shaker, a rosemary plant, a lavender plant, and a heart. You then rattle off one of your favorite quotes to him. "Always throw spilt salt over your left shoulder. Keep rosemary by your garden gate. Plant lavender for luck and fall in love whenever you can."

Bucky chuckles as you get up, retaking your spot on the sofa. "You really are a fan of the movie."

You nod. "As a little girl, I was fascinated by magic. I thought I'd grow out of it, but I only grew more fond of it. And then I found Practical Magic and it had a bit of everything I adored."

"So what's the one scene that just gets you every time?"

"Ugh. You're making me choose?!" You feign being distraught and he grins. As you think about it, you keep coming back to two scenes in particular. "So there's two," you tell him, "and I'm not choosing between them." Bucky nods, awaiting your answer. "Gillian's possession. When Sally calls together the other mothers who were mean to her in order to make a temporary coven to save her sister, and Gillian begs Sally to just let her ghost ex have her."

Bucky hums. "That was a bit sad, doll. I saw you shedding a few tears over that."

"Mhm. And the other scene is when Sally comes clean to Gary and admits that she did a spell as a child to call forth her perfect love thinking it wouldn't exist, only it did. When Gary tells Sally that he wished for her too, it just breaks my fuckin' heart."

"Let me guess, you were one of the girls who cast her own spell after seeing that scene." You stay quiet for a moment and the second you feel your face heat, Bucky laughs. "What did you wish for?"

You groan quietly. "If I tell you, you can't laugh!" He only smiles in response and you know he won't drop it until you tell him. "Fine. So even though I knew it would never work, I gathered the weirdest objects and wished for a significant other with dark hair and colored eyes. He had to be protective and funny and love me for me. Simple."

For some reason you can't seem to meet Bucky's gaze then and you feel awkward the longer the silence stretches on.

"So dinner?" He asks.

"Oh god, yes please. Pizza and wings?"

"Sounds good."

You have the nearby pizza place on speed dial, so after finding out Bucky's preferences you make the call and place the order. It's going to be about a thirty minute wait, so you fill the time sending Steve pic after pic of Bucky who's none the wiser as he scrolls through his own phone and adding the most asinine comments to each picture. Steve thinks it's absolutely hilarious.

Then when the pizza and wings arrive, you beat Bucky to the door and thrust several bills at the delivery boy. He's more than happy with his tip and you hurriedly wave him off before shutting the door. You laugh at Bucky's disgruntled expression and then place everything on the table while gathering a beer for both you and him.

"Don't let me have more than two," you tell him while handing him his own bottle of beer.

Bucky agrees and the two of you dig into your own personal pizzas and boxes of wings once you're situated around the table. As you're eating, Bucky asks about what other movies you hold near and dear. You fill him in on a few others and he hesitantly puts it out there that he'd be up for another movie marathon when you both have a day off. You agree that that's doable.

Halfway through dinner, as you and Bucky are chuckling over the thought of making Steve sit through Bridesmaids, there's a sound of glass breaking from your living room and a muffled curse. The two of you immediately cease making any type of noise and Bucky is up with a gun in hand.

"Where the hell did that come from?! You hiss.

The telltale sound of a window then sliding shut can be heard.

"Shut up and get behind me."

The authority in his voice makes you freeze and your heart flutter at the same time, and you have to mentally scold yourself before you quickly do as he says. You follow Bucky towards the living, ready to duck at the ready, only to sigh and roll your eyes when you see who it is.

Bucky stands tall and lowers his gun. "Parker." You can practically hear the annoyance in his voice.

"Mr. Barnes?" Peeking around his shoulder, you raise your eyebrow at your best friend who's been too busy for you and is now frowning at Bucky. When he catches sight of you, he asks, "What's going on?"

"Uh, well we were having dinner until we thought someone was breaking in."

"Alone?!"

Your brow furrows at Peter's incredulousness, only for him to realize you're not impressed with his tone. You raise an eyebrow at him and cross your arms over your chest. "Did you need something?"

"Oh, um, yeah." He shifts from foot to foot, gesturing to his face where there's a scrape on his cheekbone. "My ribs took a beating too. Can you patch me up?"

"Sure." You sigh. "Why not."

Before you can leave to go to the bathroom to get the supplies you need, Bucky says, "I'll just get out of your way then."

You stop and face him. "What? But we haven't even finished our food. It won't take me long."

"It's fine, doll." He grins when he realizes you're trying to get him to stay. "You gotta hit the hay early anyway. We'll talk soon."

You hold his gaze for a moment longer, sighing when he won't budge. "Well at least take your food with you. No use in it going to waste."

Bucky nods and heads back to the kitchen, collecting his food. You watch him and then follow him to the door, holding his food while he bends over to lace up his boots. Once he retakes his food and you open the door, he thanks you for the time away from the tower and disappears down the hall.

Shutting the door and then heading back into the living room, you tell Peter to get back into his regular clothes so you can get to his ribs while you go gather your medical supplies.

Meeting Peter back in the living room and setting everything down on the coffee table, he says, "So you and Bucky-"

"Don't." You pick up the peroxide bottle and soak a cotton ball in it. "Bucky and I are friends."

Peter manages to keep his mouth shut as you clean the scrape on his cheek and place a small bandage on it. Then when you've checked his ribs and tell him he just needs to ice them, he mumbles, "Friends who apparently lick each other." You snort and think nothing of his sullen tone, but when you look at his face you see he's actually being quite serious. There's no chuckle or boyish grin and for a moment you're absolutely floored at his attitude. "I don't think I'm comfortable with Bucky being alone with you in your apartment."

"Are you- are you kidding me?" You huff and take a step back from him. When Peter just continues to frown, you shake your head at him. "First of all, I'm an adult woman who can make her own decisions."

"I know, but-"

"I'm not finished!" You snap. Peter's eyes widen, but he smartly ceases talking. "I am allowed to have friends whether you like them or not. We have a pact, Petey, and since I'm still abiding by it I would hope that you would too."

"Yeah, but that's for significant others!"

"Significant others or friends, it doesn't matter. And you should be grateful I've kept my mouth shut when it comes to you and Leslie because let me tell you, I've been biting my tongue a lot these past few weeks. Bucky and the others have stepped up since you've abandoned me, so you have absolutely no room to tell me that you're uncomfortable with him or any of them being around me."

"Leslie isn't that bad and I have not abandoned you." You snort, but don't bother opening that can of worms even further. He finally gets annoyed with your quietness. "I'm here, aren't I?"

"You're here because you needed a bandage. Tell me, Peter, where are you going after here? Where are you going after making five minutes of small talk and calling it a night?" He opens his mouth and then snaps it shut, shrugs, and you shake your head at him once more in disappointment. "Exactly. Just go, Peter. I'm so over this conversation right now and I have work in the morning."

"Wait, but we promised we'd never leave a conversation where we were still annoyed with each other!"

"And we also promised we'd never judge who the other decided to spend time with, but here we are." He frowns at you. "Go to your girlfriend, Peter. We'll talk again in another few days or weeks or whenever. I don't care right now."

Peter stands there, gaping, before he pulls himself together and makes his way back towards the window he had crawled through. He glances at you one last time, but you merely keep staring until his mask encompasses his head once more and he lifts the window before taking his leave.

As the window shuts behind him, you sag in on yourself and your breathing stutters in your chest as your eyes fill with tears. You've never been this angry at Peter and the fact that he thinks it's okay to ignore you until he needs something and then has an opinion about who you hang out with was just too much for you to let slide.

You quickly gather everything from your coffee table and return it to its rightful place in your bathroom, and throw away the trash. Your appetite is long gone, so you put up what's left of your food and then head to your room to gather some clothes so you can shower and get into bed.

By the time you've crawled into bed, you're still a bit annoyed. So grabbing your phone, you pull up your text messages and click on Bucky's thread.

To Bucky: Well that was a shit show. I don't think I've ever made Petey leave my apartment while we were still angry with each other.

From Bucky: I'm sorry, doll. Anything I can do?

To Bucky: If he gives you attitude, get a non-serum individual to punch him. You, Steve, and probably Nat will send him flying into the wall.

From Bucky: If I remember..

To Bucky: Well I mean if you forget, I won't complain. I'll probably laugh when he comes crying to me.

From Bucky: You're a terrible human being.

To Bucky: Whatever. You adore me just the way I am. And now I should get some shut eye. I'll talk to you soon. Night, Sarge.

From Bucky: Night, sweetheart.

For the next couple of weeks, you keep yourself busy with work. Bucky and a few others do go on a mission as he said they would, so you keep your texts to a minimum of three each day- a good morning, a random story from that day, and a good night. They're gone for four days and in those four days you've not heard from Peter. The only reason you know he's not completely done with you is the fact he likes your posts that you put up on social media.

But since you're not currently speaking to your best friend and are too exhausted to hang out with anyone else, you're in a bit of a funk and completely caught off guard one evening when the patient a police officer brings in smacks you right across the face. You had been trying to insert an IV into his arm when he completely lost his shit, and then you were hit so hard that you were strewn across the gurney behind you. And in your vulnerable position, a fistful of your hair had been grabbed and yanked right before the police officer had intervened and pulled the patient off of you.

You had been given a bit of time to ice your cheek before you had to get back to work, but your face and scalp were hurting you the entire time.

On your way home, however, you're surprised to receive a call from Pepper. You're heading towards your apartment complex when she invites you to dinner there at the tower since Darcy is finally back in town, and you hate to do it, but you're not exactly up to be around such a rowdy bunch. So you apologize to Pepper and ask her to apologize to Darcy for you, and take a rain check. Immediately she knows something is wrong, but you only tell her you had a rough night at work and all you want is a hot shower and to crawl into bed. She hesitates but wishes you well, and the call ends moments later.

When you get home, you waste no time in locking the door behind you and heading straight for your bathroom. You strip down and take the hottest shower your body is capable of handling, and let yourself relax in the steam-filled room. Afterwards, as you're drying off, you gently dry your hair since your scalp is still sensitive and then get dressed in some of your comfort clothes.

Then heading out into the kitchen, you find some leftovers in your fridge and heat those up, tiredly sitting at your kitchen table and digging in. Just as you're done with your food and heading towards the living room, someone pounds on your apartment door. You sigh, hoping they go away, and have only plopped down onto the sofa when a familiar gruff voice speaks through the wood.

You quietly groan as Bucky tells you he knows you're there and you get up to open the door for him. He's on the verge of knocking again when you swing the door open. "Hey. Pepper said-" He trails off as he takes in your appearance, expression going slack before his jaw clenches in anger. "Who?"

You shake your head, gesturing him inside as you turn around and walk towards your sofa. You hear your door click shut before the footsteps follow you. "Work got a little hectic. No need to hunt down anyone, Barnes. I'm fine."

"Half your face is bruised, doll. You are not fine."

"It's all part of my job." You shrug and plop down onto the sofa once more. Pulling a blanket over your lap, you stare up at your friend. "There will always be a drunk and disorderly patient. I was just lucky he didn't do more damage."

Bucky frowns, but he doesn't push you on it. Instead, he walks over and sits next to you, angling his body towards yours when gentle fingers grasp your chin to angle your face more towards him. "What exactly happened?" He asks as his eyes dart over every inch of your face.

"Some petty criminal did some damage to his head in the back of a patrol car. Police officer brought him in and he seemed pretty docile up until I jabbed him with the IV. He got the drop on me. It happens." Gentle fingers brush along your cheekbone and you flinch. Tears sting your eyes as you sniffle. "I'm fine."

"Just because you keep sayin' that doesn't mean it's true."

Your bottom lip wobbles at his words and you lose the battle with keeping the tears at bay. The moment they fall, Bucky pulls you into a hug and you cry into his shoulder. "Dammit," you mumble. "See what you started!"

Bucky chuckles and he holds you a few moments longer, rubbing a hand up and your back to offer a semblance of comfort. When he lets you go, you fall back against the sofa cushions and wipe the tears away with your blanket. "So what are we watching?" He asks while settling in next to you and draping an arm behind your head.

"Shouldn't you go back to the tower and have dinner with the rest of them? I'm-"

"If you say you're fine one more time, I will drag you back to the tower and let Steve motherhen you."

You sigh. "Low blow, Buckaroo."

"And for that horrendous nickname, you've lost the privilege of choosing what we're going to watch."

You laugh and don't bother arguing with him about it as he leans across you to snag up the remote. When he settles back down and you snuggle into his side, you huff a small laugh when he settles on TLC which is showing 90 Day Fiancé.

"Why this show?" You ask.

"Because it blows my mind that some people are so oblivious and can't see that their chosen partner is only in it for the green card."

As you let his reasoning sink in, you can't help but giggle as you picture Bucky sitting in his own apartment and bad mouthing the TV because he didn't like the decisions the people were making in their love life. You watch along with him, cringing at the more obvious couples that are only headed for future divorce and smiling when one of the couples is actually in it for love.

You manage to almost watch a complete two hour episode when there's a knock on your door, but you're too comfortable to get up and answer it.

"You get it," you say as you nudge Bucky.

He nudges you back. "It's your apartment."

"Yeah, but I don't feel like getting up."

"You could have at least come up with a better excuse."

You grin, finally taking your eyes off the screen and glancing up at Bucky. "M'too tired. Brain's not working fast enough." He continues to give you a deadpan stare until you jut out your bottom lip. "Please?"

The second Bucky's lips twitch, you know you've won. He huffs and roughly pushes himself up off the sofa as if answering the door is a hardship, and you go back to watching TV. At least until you hear a familiar voice stammer, "Uh, h-hey Mr. Barnes. Is Y/N home?"

Your gaze snaps towards the door where Peter is standing out in the hallway, hands in his pockets as he sheepishly stares at Bucky. The man in question turns and raises an eyebrow at you as if saying what do I do and you give him a terse nod to let him know it's okay. Bucky steps aside and Peter readily walks in.

"I should be getting back to the tower," Bucky suddenly says. "You kids have fun."

This time it's your turn to give him a deadpan stare and he smirks right before slipping his boots back on. Then as soon as they're laced up, he's walking out the door and shutting it behind him. Peter, who hadn't stopped staring at the intimidating man, finally turns to look at you. And when he does, his eyes widen.

"What happened to your face?!"

You sigh. "I'm fine. Just had a little incident at work."

"And Mr. Barnes was what? Comforting you?"

"First of all, can you stop calling him Mr. Barnes? You two avenge together and what not. I'm pretty sure that means you're on a first name basis." Peter grins as he takes a seat on the recliner near you, shrugging. "And Bucky was here because when I turned down dinner at the tower, Pepper figured something was wrong. Bucky took it upon himself to check in."

"So are you two like a thing or something?" He wonders.

"We're just.. friends," you say. "For some unknown reason we clicked and we're comfortable in each other's company."

For a moment Peter doesn't say anything, nor will he meet your gaze, but then he's looking at you and sighing. "I'm sorry." You blink at him, surprised to hear the apology. "I shouldn't have freaked out that one night. Who you are friends with and who you decide to date is your business."

You finally smile, even though it's rather small. "Thank you. And don't get me wrong, I know you meant well, but you should have dropped it and just trusted my judgment."

"Yeah. I know," he mumbles.

"Soo.. are we good?" You ask.

"Yeah."

"Good. I was getting tired of you liking my posts and not commenting on them."

Peter snorts. A moment of silence passes and then he says, "So you'll be glad to know that Leslie and I aren't together anymore. I broke it off earlier tonight."

You wince. "Sorry."

"Nah. Don't be. She was totally using me for access to the tower." You're torn between being smug about being right and being sad for your friend who just ended his relationship. "I only realized it earlier when she got upset because Mr. Rogers posted a picture of you and Mr. Barnes together, and she had a few choice words to say about it."

"What? Steve posted a picture of us?" You quickly pull out your phone, checking social media for any notifications. There are none, but as you get on Instagram you check Steve's page and sure enough there's a new pic that shows Bucky staring fondly at you as you laugh at something on your phone. "That little shit didn't tag us!"

As your thumbs move furiously to give Steve a piece of your mind and to comment how adorable you and Bucky look, Peter can't help but say, "You're attracted to him."

Your texting falters and you quickly glance at your friend to gauge his reaction, but when he just looks amused, you shrug. "I mean have you seen him? How could I not be attracted to him?"

"Does he know?"

"I have a feeling he does. Asshole likes to fluster me every now and then."

"Well if it makes you feel any better, I'm pretty sure he likes you back." You snort and go back to finishing up the comment on Steve's post. "I'm serious. When we stopped talking, he threatened me. He was pissed that I made you cry and said I was lucky. He's actually really scary when you're on his bad side."

It takes a moment for his words to sink in and when they do you can feel your ears heating up, followed by your cheeks. Peter starts to laugh and you groan in embarrassment. "Why is this so weird? Dating should be easy!"

"Well he is an Avenger.."

"I don't care about that! He's just- he's really, really hot. It's intimidating."

"Wait, what?" Peter huffs. "So you're intimidated by his hotness and not because he's a super-soldier with a metal arm?"

"Well yeah."

Expression melting into one of confusion, your friend eventually shakes his head at you. "You're on your own with that. Good luck."

You hadn't realized how much everyone had known about your and Peter's brief falling out until the two of you were laughing together once again at the tower. It seemed like everyone had sagged in relief now that the two of you were poking fun at one another once more, and you had to apologize for apparently making it awkward for them.

And now that your best friend knew of your crush on a certain super-soldier, there was lots of teasing material. Of course you kept him in line when you could, but there was no stopping the force of Peter, Wanda, and Darcy combined.

It's a random Tuesday night when you've driven over to the Tower, Bucky having called you over for dinner with a few friends. You had the day off so you didn't mind heading on over, but as the elevator doors slide open after having ridden up to the communal floor, you yelp in surprise as the small gathered crows that shout, "Happy birthday!", at you.

Steve, Wanda, Sam, and Peter pop confetti poppers as you step out of the elevator, eyes wide as you glance between each of them. "My birthday is not until tomorrow!" You hiss.

"But you work tomorrow." Wanda frowns.

"Mhm." Your eyes then narrow, glancing behind them at the streamers and balloons hanging from the ceiling. "And how'd you guys even know?"

Everyone glances at Peter and he takes a step back when your gaze slides to him. He chuckles sheepishly. "I might have hid your birthday cupcake here and Steve found it."

"Petey," you groan. "Why couldn't you just hide it at aunt May's like usual? You know I dislike birthday celebrations."

"You don't dislike them. You just dislike all the attention being on you."

"Whatever. Where's Barnes? He's the one who lured me here under false pretenses. I got a bone to pick with him too."

Everyone turns around and Bucky's head appears from around the corner. He smirks and you glare at him. "Not false pretenses. We are having dinner," he says. "It just so happens to be a birthday dinner. And it's running a little bit late, so until the food gets here you get to open presents."

"You guys all suck."

Peter and Wanda each take a hand and drag you further into the room, heading towards the kitchen. Bucky fully steps out from behind the wall and you aim a kick at his shin as you're walking by. He laughs as he easily dodges it and then you're standing by the kitchen island that's been cleared of everything other than birthday presents.

You huff a small laugh and shake your head fondly at them. "I love you guys, but you do know you didn't have to get me anything, right?"

"Shut up and open the presents," Bucky says.

"Open mine first," Sam says, reaching into the small pile and pulling out a white envelope. "Unlike the others, I was literally told within the last thirty minutes we were doing this so yeah. It's not the best present, but I think you'll enjoy it."

You smile at Sam as you open it, chuckling at the plain birthday card and his brief personal message written inside. But it's what else that's inside that makes you meet Sam's gaze once more, smiling fondly at him. "Thank you. I can't get enough of bubble tea and I'm sure I can do some damage with this gift card."

"You're welcome."

"Mine next." Peter reaches in for a medium-sized box and hands it over to you. "I know you're not a fan of presents, so I got you something I actually knew you'd enjoy."

Raising an eyebrow at him, you pull the lid off of the box. Then glancing down, you snort before pulling out a bottle of Patron Silver Tequila. "I knew we were best friends for a reason."

Steve groans. "Please drink responsibly."

"Please. Responsible is my middle name, Rogers." Everyone snorts and instead of trying to remain serious and feign offense, you end up laughing. "Sam and Buck are good babysitters. You have nothing to worry about."

"That's to be determined," he says. "Here. Open mine. I honestly had no idea what to get you, but Peter assured me you'd enjoy this."

Putting the bottle of tequila back in its box, you accept Steve's gift. Pulling off the ribbon, you can't help but laugh when you see what's inside. "Cards Against Humanity." Peter cheers. "We're playing this the next time I have off," you say, grinning at Steve.

"What is Cards Against Humanity?" He wonders. "I just picked it up and boxed it."

"It's possibly one of the most confusing card games or raunchy card games you'll ever play," Sam says. "I, for one, am looking forward to it."

"Thank you, Steve. I seriously can't wait to play it."

"You're welcome."

Wanda claps her hands. "Mine and Darcy's next. She ordered online and I had to pick it up earlier. But, um, I'm not sure you want to open it up in front of everyone."

"Oh god. Don't tell me it's a vibrator."

Sam laughs out loud as both Peter and Steve start blushing. Bucky looks rather amused and intrigued as Wanda slides two boxes over to you. She shakes her head, giggling. "Not quite."

For a brief moment you're relieved, but then her answer sinks in and you're hesitant all over again. You groan. "Is yours safer? I feel like it is. Which one is it?"

Wanda only smirks as she pushes her box towards you. You open it, marvel at its contents, and then put the lid back on much to the boys' displeasure. Trying to keep a straight face, you look at Wanda. "How many sets did you get?"

"There's four. All in colors that will look amazing against your skin tone."

"Thank you. I'll send you pictures when I wear them."

"Yes please! Natasha wants to know how they fit as well. She was the one who suggested them."

"I'll send them to the ladies group chat then."

"Well that's not fair," Sam complains. "First for not showing us what's inside the box and then you guys have a ladies only group chat. I wanna be in the ladies only group chat."

"But then that defeats the purpose of it being a ladies only group chat," you muse.

"Come on," Peter then whines. "What was the present?"

Your gaze slides to Peter, but instead of outright saying what it is, you say, "Think back to that one Halloween night where you wouldn't let me out of the dorm until I switched costumes."

It takes him only a minute to understand and when he does, he snorts. "That wasn't a costume! That was lingerie."

"Whoa, what?" Sam exclaims, grinning.

"Lingerie can be worn as a costume?" Steve wonders.

"I was actually a Victoria's Secret Angel, complete with the most amazing set of wings, and Petey forbade me from leaving the room. It was a sad, sad night."

"As much as I wanna get into that," Sam says, "I wanna know what Barnes got you more."

You chuckle and glance at Bucky, smile faltering when you see him tense. But then he seems to shake himself out of it and offers you a grin. "Open the bigger one first."

Wanda clears away the other presents as Bucky slides his two towards you. You feel giddy as you grab the bigger box, untying the black silk ribbons and lifting the lid. There's tissue paper you open up and you gasp, happily giggling. "You didn't?!"

"Well you did say it was your favorite movie, sweetheart."

"Yes!" You glance up, beaming at Bucky, and your heart swells at his own smile being directed at you. "I really, really love this. I can't wait to hang it up."

"What is it?" Peter wonders, trying to peer across the island.

"It's a quote from Practical Magic," you say and Peter huffs a laugh, knowing full well your love for that movie. You carefully pick it up and turn it around so everyone can see it as you read it off by heart. "Always throw spilt salt over your left shoulder. Keep rosemary by your garden gate. Plant lavender for luck and fall in love whenever you can."

"Aw," Wanda coos. "That's adorable."

"I made Bucky watch this movie a while back," you say. "I need to show it to you one of these days."

"I'm looking forward to it," she says.

With nothing else to say, you place it back in its box and set it aside in favor for the second box. It's a little smaller, but you're excited for it nonetheless. Untying the ribbon and lifting the lid, you immediately laugh at the white petals scattered atop the tissue paper.

"Barnes, you smooth sonuvabitch," Sam mutters.

Steve and Peter laugh, but you're so focused on the notecard that's under some of the petals. Lifting it up, you read the note to yourself because immediately you know it's personal. My better half has to be funny, get along with my friends, won't judge me for my past, and has decent taste in movies.

Heart fluttering, you bite the corner of your lip when it feels like you're smiling way too much.

"Well what does Prince Charming have to say?" Sam asks.

"That's none of your business." You close the note and then tuck into your back pocket, chuckling when Sam and Wanda complain. When you meet Bucky's gaze, you immediately flush and mentally curse yourself when you see him smirk in return.

Inhaling and exhaling deeply, you center yourself and then part the tissue paper. You look at the second portrait and gasp after you read it.

"What? What is it?" Peter wonders.

This second portrait is of a hand drawn bowl with a tipped over salt shaker, a small bundle of lavender, a small bundle of rosemary, and a heart beneath it. Above the bowl is a swirl of flower petals and inside the swirl of petals, in very pretty cursive writing, are the words I wished for you too.

Did he just- did he confess his own feelings by using a Practical Magic quote? Or was this just you overthinking his present? You glance to meet Bucky's gaze and at his gauging expression your eyes fill with tears.

"What did you do, Barnes?!" Sam scolds him. "You made the poor girl cry at her own birthday celebration!"

But Bucky isn't paying him any attention, instead he's solely focused on you. You set the present aside and walk around the kitchen island on shaky legs, and Bucky readily reaches for your waist as you grab his face and pull him down into a kiss.

You can't believe you're kissing Bucky, but then he squeezes your waist and returns the kiss, and you know you made the right choice.

Someone gasps, but then the following words let you know exactly who it is. "Darcy is going to be so angry she missed this." Wanda. That is Wanda.

"What the hell is going on?" Sam wonders. "What type of present can cause this type of reaction?"

You smile against Bucky's mouth, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth before falling flat on your feet after having been on the tips of your toes in order to reach his mouth.

"It's my favorite quote from my favorite movie," you say. You turn around to address your friends, but Bucky doesn't let you go far. He wraps one arm around your waist and tugs you back so you're resting against his chest and tucked beneath his chin. "It's a movie about witches," you explain. "These two little girls are being raised by their aunts and they see them performing love spells for a local woman. Basically, one of the young girls refuses to fall in love after witnessing a love spell gone wrong and she does her own spell to call forward a love that would be impossible to find- a man who's favorite shape would be a star and who had one green eye, one blue. Years down the road, the sisters accidentally murder a man."

Sam snorts. "How the hell does one accidentally murder someone?"

"Shush." Wanda admonishes him. "I want to hear the story behind the gift."

You and Bucky chuckle, and you continue to explain. "Anyway, they send in an US Marshall to investigate the disappearance and the one who had done the love spell at a young age starts to fall for this man. She ends up telling him about the murder, but he doesn't quite believe her. Then they're on the verge of hooking up when she gets a good look at his eyes- one green eye, one blue."

"Oh my god. That's so cute!" Wanda says.

"It gets cuter. And sadder," you say. "So she explains to this man about her family, the murder, and how she can't be with him because he's only attracted to her because of a love spell she did when she was just a little girl. At first he's skeptical about this spell bringing him to her, but then he ends up believing her. And as he's walking away from her, he stops to tell her I wished for you too."

"So you made out with Barnes because of that?" Sam shakes his head, chuckling. "Wow."

"It's fuckin' adorable. Stop ruining the moment, Samuel!" Bucky laughs at your words and pulls you closer to him.

"So while I'm happy for Buck," Steve says, "I'm still really curious about what Darcy's gift is."

Peter nods. "Same."

Wanda giggles, but says nothing as she grabs the box and slides it over to you. You groan because you know it can be nothing good, but you still open it since everyone is watching and waiting. As soon as you part the tissue paper and read the box, alongside taking in the picture on the box, your face flames as you shove the lid back on. Wanda cackles.

"I hate her."

"She said to give the remote to-"

"Don't!" You cut Wanda off, blushing even further. "I know who she means to have control of that."

"They- they make underwear that does that?" Bucky muses and you die a little on the inside in embarrassment. You elbow him as he starts to laugh behind you.

Sam instantly knows what the gift is now and starts to laugh, but Steve and Peter apparently need some help.

"Lewis got you vibrating panties, didn't she?"

"Oh my god, Sam, if you don't shut up I'm gonna punch you in the throat."

Steve is torn between laughing and trying not to make you even more uncomfortable, but his amusement wins out. "Given Y/N's flustered state, I'm assuming Darcy wants Bucky to have the remote."

"I mean this seems like it could make for an interesting night."

Everyone laughs at Bucky's sudden interest in the box you're doing your damnedest to keep shut, but luckily Peter steps in. "As much I love watching Y/N squirm, can we get ready to eat? I'm starving."

"Yeah, yeah. Let's go wait downstairs for it, kid."

Sam and Peter head for the elevator to take them down to the lobby, and you turn around in Bucky's hold. "Help me take this stuff to my car so I don't have to do it later?"

"Sure thing, doll." He grins. But instead of stepping away, he pushes you further into the kitchen island. You smile as he cages you in and then huff a laugh when he reaches for the box behind you. "So exactly how long do we have to be dating before we can test these out?"

You slowly lean upward so your lips brush his as you say, "I'd say very, very soon if you would put your ass into gear and help me move these presents like I asked."

Bucky laughs and presses a quick kiss to your lips. "Then let's get to it."

The telltale sound of a phone's camera goes off and you turn your face towards the sound. Wanda is beaming, her phone pointed towards you and Bucky. "Darcy wanted evidence I wasn't lying. She's going to be so happy."

Bucky turns his face to look at her then, his cheek brushing against yours where he's yet to back off from you. "Tell Lewis I said thanks for the present. I'll give her my review of them in a few weeks."

Wanda's eyes widen and you immediately blurt, "Don't you dare!" But she's already texting and you know the group chat full of ladies is going to be full of messages that you'll have to reply to later. Quietly groaning, you slap your hands against Bucky's waist and push him back. Looking up at him, you shake your head but the corner of your lips turn up in amusement. "You're terrible. I would threaten to withhold sex, but I've been looking forward to that for a while. I'd just be punishing us both."

"Just tell me when and where, sweetheart, and I'll be there."

"Oh no. You guys are going to be that couple," Steve complains.

And without missing a beat, you face him and say, "Fuck off, Rogers!" Bucky snorts.

"You're cranky when you haven't gotten laid."

You gasp as Bucky bursts out laughing right in your ear, but he quickly catches you as you try to lunge for his best friend. "You know what, I was going to be discreet when banging your best friend, but now I'm going to tell you all the filthy things Bucky likes to do just to annoy you. I will go into excruciating detail about the look and taste of his dick!"

Steve blanches as it's Wanda's turn to burst out laughing. "You've done it now, Steve."

And as Steve looks to Bucky for help, he merely shrugs. "You brought this on yourself, Stevie. Hope you enjoy the play by plays."

Relaxing in Bucky's hold and moving so you're hip to hip with him, you slide your arm behind his waist and hook your thumb into the belt loop of his jeans. "We're going to have so much fun."

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #marvel imagine #peter parker #bucky barnes #wanda maximoff #sam wilson #darcy lewis #the avengers #avengers #avengers imagine #marvel

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marauderundercover · 3 years

Text

The Strings that Bind Us: Chapter One

AO3

Marinette Dupain Cheng was tired. She’d fought the same villain for fifteen years. She’d been a hero longer than she’d been just Marinette. It was exhausting. And she was ready for a break. Two years after unmasking Hawkmoth, Paris was finally healed enough for her to move on. To leave.

Which was why she was currently putting fairy lights and pumpkins on the balcony of her new apartment in Gotham. It was quiet, and lonely, but at least she didn’t have the weight of a city on her back anymore. She hums as she places the last pumpkin. Perfect. Glancing across the city, she lets out a sigh. Here she was, in an entirely new city, no connections and no one to talk to when she needed to just talk. But it was worth it, the memories of everything in Paris still too fresh. It still hurt too much. Deciding it’s not too early to go to sleep, she walks back inside. She’s just closed the door when a loud crash from outside has her tensing. She peeks behind the curtain, frowning at the figure on her balcony. She opens the door.

“Uh, hello.” She greets the strangely dressed man. If what she’d read had been correct, this was Batman. Gotham’s resident hero, or vigilante as the papers called him. He probably wasn’t here to fight her, but you can never be too careful.

“My apologies.” He says, his voice gruff. Her eyes narrow at the way he favors his left side.

“Would you like a cup of coffee?” She asks suddenly, her face instantly heating up as the words tumble out without her permission.

“I’m not-” He starts, but she shakes her head.

“I insist. You are out trying to protect citizens, are you not? The least I can do is offer you a coffee.” She says, turning and walking back inside. She doesn’t turn to see if he follows, but she does hear footsteps behind her. She figures he could walk silently, if he really wanted to. After all, even though he’d been around for eight or so years, few had ever seen Batman. She hums, moving around the kitchen and starting up her small coffee pot and grabbing a few of the leftover pastries from earlier. Placing the pastries on a plate, she pulls down two cups before turning to the vigilante in her kitchen.

“How do you take your coffee?” She asks, and she swears his lips twitch slightly.

“Just black.” He says, and she grins.

“Thank goodness. One of my friends in Paris refuses to drink coffee unless it’s half cream and sugar.” She says, trying to keep the conversation light. After all, what do you say to a random vigilante? It was different when Chat Noir, or Adrien, visited her back in collège. He didn’t start doing that until after she’d helped with Evillustrator, which helped it to not be awkward. Like it currently was with her and Batman. God, why did she even invite him in? She turns and almost sighs in relief when she sees the coffee is done. Quickly filling up both cups, she passes one to Batman and then pushes the plate of pastries towards him.

“I own the cafe downstairs.” She says as an explanation when she sees his lips purse. He nods and grabs a croissant, taking a hesitant bite out of it.

“Thank you.” He says, and she just smiles. She may not want to be a hero again, but maybe it would be okay to be friends with a hero again.

---

The bell over the door notifying her of another customer makes Marinette stick her head out from the back.

“Hello! Welcome to La Petite Tasse, I’ll be with you in just a minute.” She calls, not catching the response before she’s back in the kitchen, pulling a fresh batch of croissants out of the oven. She slides the tray onto the cooling rack before tugging off the oven mitts and rushing out to the front.

“I am so sorry about that, most of my workers are also students so they have class right now. What can I get you?” She rambles, freezing when she looks up into the most attractive blue eyes she’s ever seen. The man just smiles at her, and she swears her knees go weak.

“That’s fine. Could I have... a large black coffee and a croissant?” The man asks, glancing up at the menu before looking back at her. She nods and smiles, cursing the way her cheeks heat up. Sure, this was quite literally the most attractive man she’d ever seen in person, but she was not going to fall for a pretty face. Nope. Totally not. She turns and grabs a cup, filling it up before rushing to the back to grab one of the fresh croissants. After all, they were better warm.

“That’ll be three dollars and twenty seven cents.” She says, passing the man his order. He grins and passes her a twenty.

“Keep the change.” He says with a grin before he turns and walks out. She blinks, slightly confused, but takes the change and puts it into the tip jar. That was weird, she thinks, but she doesn’t think too much into it. It’s not like she’d ever see him again.

---

She had been wrong, and she was completely okay with it. The man came in almost every day for two weeks before she worked up the courage to introduce herself and ask his name. He’d seemed shocked, but had introduced himself as Bruce. And after two weeks, she was happy to say that Gotham had started to feel a little lighter, that she was a little happier in this dark city. The bell above the door chimes, but she keeps working on filling the macarons since Mack was manning the counter.

“Listen kid, open the register and I won’t shoot your fucking brains out.” A voice says. Oh hell no. She drops the piping back and picks up her rolling pin. Peeking out, she breathes a sigh of relief when she sees it’s only one guy, not an entire group. She tosses her rolling pin lightly before catching it, familiarizing herself with it as a projectile before she actually uses it. She watches as Mack’s hands shake, obviously panicked. Letting out a steadying breath, Marinette aims and manages to hit the man in the head with the rolling pin. He drops instantly, the gun clattering to the floor. She rushes out and grabs a couple zip ties from under the counter, walking over and cuffing the man’s hands behind his back before dragging him towards the handrail and attaching him to it. She glares at the man before she remembers Mack and gasps. She rushes over, frantically checking over the girl to make sure she’s okay.

“Mama M, I’m fine. I promise.” She says, though her voice shakes. Marinette breathes a sigh of relief before crushing the girl in a hug.

“I am so sorry, Mack, so, so sorry.” She apologizes, holding the girl close. She can feel the girl shake slightly, her shirt getting wet as the girl cries. Marinette just coos softly, whispering reassuring words to her. She barely hears the bell signaling a customer ring.

“What the hell happened?” A familiar voice asks. She glances over at Bruce and grimaces.

“Attempted robbery. Would you mind calling the police?” She asks, nodding towards the landline. He blinks, standing frozen as he stares at the tied up man in the corner. “Bruce!” She calls, his attention snapping to her. She nods towards the phone again and he nods, walking over to make the call.

---

After the police take their statements, Marinette sends Mack home with the tips from the day, despite the girl’s protests.

“Sweetheart, you were just held at gunpoint. I’m not gonna let you stay here. Go home, eat some junk food and watch something funny. I’ll see you on Monday.” Marinette says, giving the girl another quick hug before watching her leave. She turns to Bruce, who had been kind enough to stay, and winces. “You’re not gonna get in trouble with your boss, are you?” She asks. He just grins.

“I was actually off today, don’t worry about me.” He says, his smile falling as he looks her over. “Are you okay?” He asks. She lets out a shaky breath before nodding.

“Yeah, yeah. I was more worried about Mack, honestly. I was in the back, but I couldn’t just stay there. Not knowing she was in danger.” She says, her arms wrapped around herself as she tries to stay calm. It was the first time she’d had an actual gun aimed at someone she cares about.

“You were quite the hero today.” He says softly, and she snorts, shaking her head.

“No, Bruce, I wasn’t. I did what anyone else would’ve done.” She says, waving him off dismissively.

“Only you would actually believe that there are still people good enough to act like that.” He says softly. She blushes and clears her throat.

“Well, did you want your regular?” She asks, moving to go back behind the counter. He frowns.

“Mari, you aren’t seriously going to open the cafe back up today, are you?” He asks and she frowns.

“Why wouldn’t I?” She asks.

“Because your store was just attacked!” He exclaims, and she snorts.

“If my parent’s bakery in Paris closed every time there was an attack, they would’ve gone out of business.” She says flippantly. He frowns, and she worries she’s said something wrong, when his face suddenly twists back up into a smile.

“Spend the day with me.” He says and she blinks in surprise.

“What?”

“I had set out to ask you on a date when I came in today, but the whole attempted robbery stopped me. I know you want to just get back to work, but what if you spent the day with me instead?” He offers. She stares at him, wide eyed, before a wide smile forms on her face.

“I thought you’d never ask.” She says. It’d be fine to have the cafe closed for a day.

Event tag list: @maribat-october-rarepairs

Permanent tag list: @stainedglassm @kittenmywaythrulife @laydeekrayzee @doll246 @queenz-z @deathssilentapproach-blog @literaryhiraeth @unoriginalmess

#brucinette #maribat bruce wayne #maribat marinette dupain cheng #maribat #maribat fanfiction #maribat ladybug #maribat batman #MaribatHalloween21 #maribatoctrp21 #ao3fic

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chaoticevilbean · 3 years

Text

An (Un)Official List Of Things Only Anakin Skywalker Can Do

Originally written by Ayala Secura

Blow people up with his mind on accident

Anakin expressed concern over his lack of emotional control. He gave many examples of normal problems that can arise from this. He then casually added one that is not common, usual, or even plausible for known Jedi. From his recollection, he would often cause beings who enraged him to spontaneously and violently combust.

I did my best to reassure him that such things were considered unusual, but weren't reason for him to be fearful. At the time, I simply didn't wish to increase his worries. I did maintain that the exploding of beings is very bad, and that he should work on finding ways to productively release such strong emotions.

I apologize here for the "renovation" of the hangar. (Secura)

Hear as far as the length of the Temple (without meditation)

Amendment: Hear as far as the diameter of Coruscant (without meditation)

Anakin once again was expressing concerns over his lack of control. He also complained that it was causing him headaches. Upon my questioning, he explained that he could hear the younglings playing on the other side of the Temple. I tested this by having us stand on either end of the longest part of the Temple we could reach. I asked if he could hear me (without a comm) and he responded that he could (using a comm).

Later, when he was still within the Temple, I found myself on a mission with my Master. It was not a very rushed assignment, and I began humming. Upon my return to the Temple, Anakin asked me if I knew what song it was, humming the exact tune I had. Apparently, he had been walking with his own Master and had heard me, though he hadn't been focusing enough to identify what he was doing. (Secura)

Smell differences within water despite being a non-variant Human

Smell differences within air despite being a non-variant Human

He accompanied me to the Room of a Thousand Fountains. It was a normal walk through the gardens, until we came across one of the smaller ponds. He commented that someone had cleaned it recently. When I asked how he knew, he explained that it smelled different.

He and I were sitting within his quarters. We were simply chatting when he complained that someone had messed with the ventilation without alerting him or Knight Kenobi. He could smell the air was slightly different than before. As he put it, the smell wasn't the problem, but the lack of communication was.

Both instances, he couldn't elaborate on what exactly the smells were, nor how he knew what each one meant. He simply knows these things. When tested with some other Padawans, the only ones that came close to knowing such things were Nautolans, out of a base group of 15 species. The experiment is listed in the Archives as Liquid and Gaseous Change Detection. (Secura)

Eat death sticks without consequence

Both of our Masters brought us to the lower levels in order to fulfill a mission. Anakin and I were left in a corner booth, with instructions to remain there and cause a commotion if someone attempted to harm or harrass us.

I looked away for TEN SECONDS. Ten seconds, and he was being offered a death stick by a clearly intoxicated individual who had no sense of what should and shouldn't be given to a barely ten-cycle-old. Anakin had no experience with such things. He had no idea what he was being given, and managed to get instructions to pour the liquid into his fizzyglug within the fleeting moment I was not paying attention.

He consumed it, chugging the liquid when I attempted to order him to stop, and then take it from him when he didn't listen. The individual who gave him the death stick had the sense to begin to panic, finally realizing Anakin's youth. However, Anakin finished off every drop with nothing but a smile. I got our Masters attention, but even after taking him to the nearest medcenter and runnign multiple scans, there were no signs of any harm. I have received significant therapy for that event, and Anakin has since been informed to not take anything from strangers. (Secura)

Generate electricity on levels that a (non-variant) Human cannot perform (without a health declination)

He was making his hair do that weird static thing that Human hair does every time he got excited. He also kept causing screens and pads to glitch or turn off whenever he picked them up while in a similar state. A solution of temporary insulating gloves and frequent reminders helped him gain control. (Secura)

Communicate words through the Force with minimal bonding

Amendment: No bonding is necessary for this form of communication, and is possible within the expanse of the Temple

Amendment: Communication is possible over most distances

He asked me if Aayla was available to study (with the Force) because his mouth was full and he'd already been told off that day. (Vos)

Skywalker told me that my Padawan was experiencing a panic attack from across the Temple. No bond existed between us before or after the interaction. (Fisto)

Skywalker informed me of a mission delay over several systems. He explained later that he was attempting to prevent his Master's worry about informing the Council and knew I would inform the other members for Kenobi. (Windu)

Consume raw meat (without a health declination) despite being a non-variant Human

Nervous to eat lunch alone, he was. Asked to eat together, I did. Showed him the kitchens, I did. Ate five live frogs, he did. Proud, I am. (Yoda)

I handed him a rodent I had found within my quarters, asking him to hold it so I could call someone. I was going to call a being who could help me prevent further instances and get rid of this rodent. I needn't have worried about relocating or disposing of the creature, though. I remember hearing a loud squeal, then turning to find Skywalker trying to tear away the fur of the rodent. He had no notion that it was an unusual habit for a Human. (Ti)

Jump into the Temple vents without using the walls

Amendment: Without using any aid

Amendment: Jump in/out of the Temple vents and on/off obstacles of similar height without any aid whatsoever

He's proved this multiple times over various training excercises, and occasionally his attempts to avoid said excercises. There's footage of it from the Temple's cameras. He has no regard for safety when it comes to jumping off of ledges, cliffs, or roofs/out windows. Caution advisory does nothing. (Kenobi)

Send emotions through the Force without a bond

Amendment: Send emotions without a bond, over great distances, with extreme precision and without any meditation or prior preparation - such emotions will likely be magnified upon reception, and can cause fainting, among other symptoms

Upon the death of notable Jedi Master Pak'll Tiffn, I had decided to participate in their culture's traditional week-long mourning practices. Near the end of this, young Skywalker asked me why I seemed so "down". I explained my grief at the death of Master Tiffn, and he continued to question me on the cause of my "distress". When he discovered I had technically finished the practices an hour before, he sent such a strong wave of excitement to me that I found it hard to not smile for the following three days.

I also found myself wishing to work on starfighter engines, which I attribute to the excitement being of Skywalker's creation. (Tiin)

I had a migraine while on a mission. Skywalker sent me a wave of comfort that caused me to pass out. He has since been informed that he should not interact with Jedi in the field unless he is certain they are in a safe enough position to do so. (Windu)

Accidentally cause plants to grow at a visibly accelerated rate

Anakin fell asleep in the Room of a Thousand Fountains while attempting to meditate. Upon my arrival, I found the grass already past my knees in height, and several nearby shrubs beginning to flower. I write my apologies here to the caretakers of the Room, and express my gratitude that none of you commented on it. (Kenobi)

Accidental levitation whilst walking

Amendment: Accidental levitation whilst walking, running, and other movement in which one is not standing/sitting/lying in a singular place

Witnessed during sparring practice with Master Kit Fisto and Master Ki-Adi Mundi

Bypass shielding enough to receive a clear perception of a being's emotions

I was working through some guilt over a recent mission and the requirements to fulfill it. Anakin walked over and did his best to comfort me without any understanding of why I was feeling that way, but knowing exactly what I was feeling. Throughout our entire interaction, my shields remained firmly in place, and strong enough that he really shouldn't have been able to even know where I was.

Oh yeah. He came from across the Temple to find me. He bypassed my shielding from across the Temple, without realizing his actions, and did so with better precision than a fully trained Master. (Vos)

Carry items of any weight without strain from channeling

According to Skywalker, the only trouble he has with lifting all the furniture in his quarters is he has to focus on the act while also looking for his missing holopad. (Koon)

(regarding previous entry) Reminds me of the time he lifted all the ships in Hangar 6 in order to find a single wrench, which was in somehow within the vents. (Billaba)

Cause a building-wide power outage from a nightmare/vision

Incident recorded as Padawan-induced. (Nu)

Bite through beskar when curious

Taste the strength of metals

Skywalker is no longer allowed in the forges without someone actively supervising him and him alone. He saw a piece of beskar I had managed to aquire. He was curious about the ore, due to it being unknown to him. I caught him with it in his mouth like some youngling sneaking a cookie. Apparently it tasted really strong. I thought he meant the taste was pungent, until he said that even durasteel didn't taste as strong. (Ria)

Heal minor personal wounds immediately, within a few seconds and without discernible energy usage

Heal major personal wounds immediately, up to halving recovery time and with lessened energy usage

Incidents recorded in mission reports including Skywalker (Nu)

Accidentally mind trick crowds of 20 or more

Amendment: Untested limit of how many can be affected, although the effectiveness of the tricks varies between individuals, and can reach up to 50 beings (recorded)

Note to all those who may serve a diplomatic mission with Skywalker: he can safely diffuse mobs, protests, and other upset crowds. He will need time to calm his own emotions afterwards, as it is (theoretically) his increasing anxiety that causes such effects. (Fisto)

Learn a language after hearing it only once

Amendment: Anakin will not know this is happening. He will simply begin to speak the language back at whoever spoke it to him.

Incidents recorded in mission reports including Skywalker (Nu)

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

All Jedi are now welcome to add to the (Un)Official List of Things Only Anakin Skywalker Can Do. All editors are asked to put some form of a source, even if such source is simply a page-long rant about Padawan Skywalker's habit of not checking if a substance should be poisonous to him (condolences to Knight Vos).

Please also include some sort of identifier to connect each edit to the being(s) who created them.

Sincerest gratitude and condolences to all Jedi who find themselves editing this file. (Secura)

#star wars #anakin skywalker #fanon #jedi #jedi temple #aayla secura #quinlan vos #obi-wan kenobi #kit fisto #mace windu #saesee tiin #jocasta nu #ki-adi mundi #depa billaba #plo koon #shaak ti #yoda #minch yoda

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luimagines · 3 years

Text

He Accidentally Hurt You pt.2

Masterlist

Set platonically and within the group Part 1

Hyrule

Your blood was pounding as your feet carried you across the battle field.

Your hearing was rendered useless by the cause, you only thoughts were on Hyrule and getting to him before the hoard of monsters did. He had somehow gotten separated from the group in the struggle and was left to fend for himself.

You made contact.

The sword in your hand followed through your practiced movements, slicing all and any between you and your target.

You could hear him in the distance, you were close, you just had to get- just a little-

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up and the air changed. The split second static was your only warning before lightning struck.

Monsters fell all around you but you failed to pay attention to that. Your attention was instead on the blinding, scalding twist in your arm that held your trusted blade. You couldn’t even find it in you to let go of the weapon, your muscles incapable to receiving orders.

The pain traveled through your arm and across your chest until it encompassed your whole being.

Screams tore through your throat without your knowledge and when the attack subsided, your whole body went rag doll and your vision went black.

“Please. Please. Please.” A voice whispered through the darkness. It was soft. Pleading. A blessed chill seemed deep into your bones and you found it within yourself to open your eyes.

Hyrule was crouched above you, tears in his eyes with shallow cuts across his tunic and exposed skin. Not a lot of blood though, your brain supplies. You take a relieved breath.

“Hey.” You croaked out in greeting. “Glad to see you’re ok. I was worried.”

“I didn’t know you were there.” He blurts as if he didn’t hear you. Maybe he didn’t. “I thought it was only monsters nearby. I don’t think I have enough magic to heal you completely. This is all my fault.”

“Fault?” You attempted to sit up. You succeed. Mostly.

A grunt leaves your mouth at the stiffness in your joints and you force yourself to power though to reach into your inventory.

A sniffle leaves your Traveler when you push his hands away when you find your target. The red liquid glints in the dying sunlight and you hand it out to him. “Think you can open it?”

He nods and pry's it open before you can even think about getting into a better sitting position.

You don’t think twice about taking the potion when he hands it back.

“Save your magic.” You say. “I’ll be fine.”

And you know you’re right....It’ll take a little more than that to convince the rest of the group when you get back though. Hyrule plans to smother you until not a single blemish is left. The others? Well... They’ll keep an eye on you.

Twilight

“Ten rupees says you can’t make that throw.” You hear Warriors say.

“Double it and I’ll gladly prove you wrong.” Twilight responds.

The book in your lap calls for attention more than whatever those two are doing for the sake of friendly competition. You don’t look up, trying to keep your eyes on the page but you can’t help the growing curiosity in the back of your head.

“What are we using to aim with?”

“That?”

“Sure.”

You roll your eyes and keep your head down.

“I’ll be twenty rupees richer and it’ll shut your mouth. Just watch.” Twilight grumbles.

There’s a tap and a growl before something comes at your head full throttle. It’s dense but not enough to keep it from exploding all into your hair and it knocks you over slightly.

You closed your book to protect it from the falling matter and reach at the spot. By your feet laying the offending object.

An apple.

They threw an apple at your head. Correction. Twilight threw an apple at your head.

The thoughts in your head spin a bit. Your whole head is throbbing but you doubt there’s any blood. You look up just in time to see Warrior and Twilight running at you as fast as they can. Twilight reaches you first and kneels next to you. “By Ordana, are you ok?”

His hands hover over you, trying to take in the damage without actually touching you.

“Who are you?” You blurt out, very quickly realizing that it was the wrong thing to say.

His face drops and Warrior wears a similar expression.

“Kidding.” A pained grin covers your face. “Take me to Hyrule please.”

“I’m so sorry.” Twilight reaches for you and you comply. Once you’re on your feet he speaks again. “Warrior messed up my shot and it hit you by accident.”

“That’s a weird way to say you lost a bet.”

You kick Warrior as payback.

Sky

“So...” You sit next to Sky during the break. “What are you planning to make this time?”

The boy next to you already had his whittling knife out and a decent sized chunk of wood in his lap. He picked it up and spun it a few times, staring into it as if he could already see the form inside it. It was just his job to take it out.

“I don’t know yet.” He admits. “Maybe it’ll come to me.”

You nod and let him work in relative silence, the faint but consistent sounds of Sky working next to you create a blissful and serene atmosphere.

The others are off doing their own thing, each keeping to themselves for the most part.

It’s nice.

“Actually, can you help me with this real quick?”

Your attention is back on Sky. He’s trying to get his knife out of the wood block, the outline of the shape he’s making already starting to form.

You don’t recognize it.

Sky picks up the knife and the whole block follows. “It got stuck.”

“How?” You raise an eyebrow and try to keep the smile off of your face.

Your response is only a shrug and the wood being thrust in your direction.

You grab it and instinctively tighten your grip on it when you feel Sky pull.

You both use your strengths to your advantage and pull in different directions. You feel the knife begin to slip out and adjust your grip. Within seconds the blade is free and you feel it cross the tip of your finger.

Instantly, the wood is dropped and you cradle your hand close to you, putting pressure on the injured digit.

“Ok, got it, thank- What happened?” Sky scoots closer to you and pulls your hands out.

A thin red line follows the length of your finger and it only seems to grow as the moments pass. It doesn’t feel deep but it certainly won’t let you flex your finger for a while.

A quite hiss leaves Sky’s lips. “Well that could’ve gone better. Sorry about that.”

“It could’ve gone worse too.” You press a little on the injury, trying to will the pain away.

It doesn’t work, but hey, you try.

“Hold on. I think I have some bandages in my pack.” Sky gets up and jogs to where most of the others are sitting. He picks up his bag and looks inside for a minute or two before jogging back to you.

A small role of bandages sits in his hand and when he reach for your hand, you don’t hesitate to give it to him.

As he’s working on your finger, you feel mild irritation bubble up in your throat. “This better not scar.”

“Why’s that?” Sky replies.

“It’ll be the lamest story.”

He laughs and finishes his work.

Time

Sometimes it surprised you how short everyone in the group was. You weren’t sure if it was a Link thing or one of the biggest coincidences of the universe because it certainly wasn’t just because they were Hylian (but that probably didn’t help).

That being said, and what you could gather from The Captain, it boggled your mind further that Time was the biggest of everyone. Warrior made it seem like he’d stay small forever, implying that Time was smaller still when he first defeated Gannon.

That didn’t seem very fair.

For him and you....well everyone, only Twilight and Warrior were the ones exempt from having to look up at the old man. But you didn’t like the idea of someone so small fighting such a beast, so Time is included in your sympathy list.

Despite his size, he seemed to move as silent as a mouse. Only Wild would be quieter than him.

After some time of traveling with them all, you realized he was just as much as a gremlin as the rest.

He was not above pranking the living daylights out of poor unsuspecting teenagers.

And the thing is, no one could catch him. Somehow he managed to get them to in the blame on each other but you knew better. You swore it had to be him. There was no way. There was no way he could count as a Link and not get into this kind of stuff.

But no one believed you.

It definitely wasn’t fair.

With the stage set, it’s safe to say now that you were calmly, peacefully and quietly minding your own business. You weren’t bothering anyone.

You were writing in your journal under a tree with some low branches. Nothing too bad but in terms of shade and angle, you found it to be the perfect resting place.

You took a deep breath in and let it out.

Yes, it was nice.

“BOO!”

You jumped as high as your reflexes you take you and spun around, but you had forgotten where you were in the moment.

With a solid thunk, your head hit the branch above you and sat back down, with a curse.

While there was laughter in the your reaction, it was cut off abruptly at the first sign of pain. “Oh jeeze, I’m sorry. How bad does it hurt?”

A whimper escaped your mouth before you could stop it and you closed your journal, choosing to furiously rub your hands against the now tender spot on the top of your head. “Ow Time. Why did you do that?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d move like that.” He moved your hands away and inspected the area for himself. “No bleeding. Doesn’t look like it’ll need a potion...”

“I blame you.” You grumbled. “This is your fault.”

“I can accept that.” He nodded and stepped back. “There’s not much we can do about it in terms of healing, but perhaps Hyrule would be willing to lend a hand.”

“No way. He’d ask how it happened and I’m not going to lie to him.” You pouted. “No one will believe me if I told them the truth.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s you!” You glared at him.

A tiny giggle escaped from the so called Old Man of the group, Mr. Stick in the Mud. Senor Buzzkill. “And why would that make a difference?”

“I cannot believe you... Actually yes I can, you were doing this on purpose the whole time.”

He laughed more fully this time and didn’t seem to let up.

With a pout, you picked up your book and marched away.

One day you’ll get back at him. You just had to figure out how and when.

Four

“So, how do we play this game again?” You picked up the ball one of your companions took out. It was almost the size of your head and had crisscrossing lines. It was white and weighed less than you originally thought.

It was a relatively slow day and no one felt in the mood to dampen it by looking for trouble.

While Twilight and Warrior set up the net that was supposed to go with it, the rest were waiting and going over the rules.

“Just hit the ball over the net. You can’t the ball twice in a row, someone else has to hit it and if it touches the ground you lose the point.”

“Seems simple enough.” Wild takes the ball from you and tosses it a few times.

It takes a while for all the appropriate moves to be demonstrated but you all play the game with ease.

You were having a good time with your friends. Everyone was actually getting along for a change. With a smile on your face, you waited for the moment that would inevitably change.

You swore you could almost pin point when it happened.

With Four right across from you, his sudden change in stance gave away the glint in his eyes.

The ball came to him and he jumped up, higher than you thought he could and spiked.

Next thing you knew, you were on the ground, stunned and slightly disoriented and your face was hurting.

Four ran to your side as the game was halted. “That... was not what I was intending.”

“You don’t say... Can I step out for a minute?” You asked, trying to get your feet. Four helped you get away from the battle field- I mean, the game area and helped you sit back down against a nearby tree.

“Sorry about that.” He smiled apologetically. “Anything I can do to help?”

You looked up at him hopefully. “Lose the game?”

“Not a chance.”

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe x reader

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soobmint · 4 years

Text

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.

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