#like i literally had no idea until someone kindly told me because i had them blocked a while ago

[beif0ngs]

someone has kindly informed me that tumblr user @jim-bei (now @soranatus) might've been reposting some of my gifs, and wow i'm actually speechless...

original post:

repost:

original post:

repost:

original post:

repost:

and they have the absolute f*cking NERVE to include tags like these on reposted gifsets containing MY gifs: #I know this episode came out a while ago but I wanted to try and make my own edit of it / #I know I’m very late to gif this but I wanted to give it a try like listen, i can recognize my gifs from a single damn glance because i take the time & effort to make them. what tumblr user @jim-bei/@soranatus is doing here is simply f*cking 'cropping' and stealing my gifs and passing it off as their own.

[UPDATE]

found ANOTHER one of my gifsets that they reposted

original post:

repost:

they conveniently cropped out my watermark and then proceeded to oversaturate the gifs in a pathetic attempt to pass it off as their own gifs... like wow, i am actually f*cking pissed.

[ANOTHER UPDATE]

ALRIGHT... this is making me more mad by the minute. so, not only are they LYING, they're trying to spin it in such a way that their reposted gifs containing my gifs is simply 'editing it similarly'. dude no, there is NO f*cking way. when i make gifs, i not only crop AND resize the scenes the way i want it, i also recolor and sharpen them using my own settings. yes, gifmakers can make similar sets but never the EXACT same. their so-called 'editing it similarly' is literally cropping MY gifs, and reposting it as their own.

[ADDITIONAL UPDATE]

someone else just messaged me to let me know that they've apparently changed their url to @soranatus

[elodieunderglass]

On the topic of the monarchist animals I'm just really curious. What makes the winnie pooh real animals bourgeois? It's not like they own much more than the others. Do they just have bourgeois energy?

(In reference to my addition on this post; https://www.tumblr.com/elodieunderglass/748488762087047168/hold-on-lets-do-this-properly-paddington)

In the post I state that none of the stuffed/toy animals in the Winnie the Pooh series are monarchists, but that the real animals are bourgeoisie. Obviously this is tongue in cheek, but it’s still politically interesting to me because nobody ever reads Winnie the Pooh as an actual book. They just draw depressed Disney Eeyore and think they’ve done something.

Owl and Rabbit are real wild animals that live in the Hundred Acre Wood. The other characters in the story are Christopher Robin’s stuffed animals.

The “real” animals (reasonably) consider themselves to be separate from the stuffed ones, but where it becomes unreasonable is how they assume superiority and how they use this to exert authority.

(A charming response about how the stuffed animals view this: Piglet points out that Rabbit is both clever and Has Brain, and Pooh replies that this is why Rabbit “doesn’t understand anything.”)

Owl is characterised by being a bit of a fraud. The stuffed animals respect him for his presumed education and literacy, but even a preschooler understands that Owl can’t actually read. he actively deceives the other characters in order to maintain a higher social status over them. (Actually, Rabbit’s the most literate character in the Wood.) Owl gains relatively little advantage from this status, apart from his belief that he is superior and the pleasure in everyone deferring to him. A notable theme throughout the written series involves characters approaching Owl for advice, based on his self-made reputation of being wise and thoughtful, and him giving explicitly bad advice, rather than admit that he has no idea how to help. Also, they forcibly give him someone else’s house, in such a way that the actual possessor of the house (Piglet) feels he can’t speak up. Pooh immediately offers to Piglet that he move in with him, which even as a kid felt like an incredibly unsatisfactory solution to having the shyest character’s actual house given away to the character who casually lies about everything just to feel superior.

Rabbit is a grown-ass adult real wild animal. He is the social leader of a massively large family and an extended group of hangers-on (he has fifteen or seventeen close relatives, and the extended Friends-and-Relations are a sort of army); he is the only actually literate person in the narrative, so it is understandable that he feels this (although he also believes Owl can read.) literacy and Brain are considered very important in the Wood.

Rabbit believes in his own superiority and believes himself to serve as a sort of cadet to Christopher Robin. In the series Christopher Robin is the ultimate judge, and a kindly ruler; Rabbit positions himself constantly at Christopher Robin’s right hand and wants to be his enforcer. Christopher Robin, who is five and a fairly distracted God, does not really enforce anything. This does not stop Rabbit from trying to organise the entire Wood. It’s frequently mentioned that Rabbit wants to feel important, he wants to be the Boss. A beautiful, beautiful commentary on his character is when he wakes up feeling “important, as if everything depending on him… it was a Captainish sort of day, when everybody said “Yes Rabbit” and “No Rabbit” and waited until he had told them.” Fantastic!

However, we can see where this leads him. In the first book Rabbit is shown being hostile and actively anti-foreign in his approach to other people. When kanga and roo arrive in the forest - sanctioned by Christopher Robin who has received new toys - Rabbit instantly says they have to get rid of them. Like there is NO friendship in Rabbit’s heart here. There is no “god has placed a new friend in the wood so we have to get on with it.”

Rabbit’s anti-immigration stances are funny, and in-character, and shown by the narrative to be wrong and unfair. But they’re pretty unleashed.

His plan is to kidnap the baby and hold it hostage until the mother agrees to “leave the forest forever and never return.”

This is not a normal response to a new character. It is in fact fucking unhinged. Coming from the most normal-adult real animal in the story, it comes out of nowhere. “We have to eliminate them instantly. Take the baby hostage, blackmail the parent and deport them” Rabbit these are war crimes.

Anyway it’s all very heartwarming as Rabbit learns that he likes Baby Roo. (Their relationship grows warmer as Baby Roo says “yes rabbit” and “no rabbit” better than anyone else.) We never really learn why Rabbit is so violently anti-immigration that he instantly jumps to doing crimes, but it’s possible that he doesn’t like the threat to the status quo. Baby Roo, by deferring politely, thus turns out to be a valuable social inferior for Rabbit’s power base.

But in the next book we also get another new character introduction: Tigger. rabbit does not like tigger. In fact, he stops visiting Roo because Tigger lives with them. Rabbit, frustrated by Tigger’s bounciness, also decides to deliberately trick and bully Tigger in order to make him “small and sorry.” The fact that this comically backfires on Rabbit is part of the Pooh-lore storytelling style, of course, but it’s still something obvious even to the preschool audience - that isn’t how you treat your friends.

In conclusion, due to their hoarding of (social) capital and behaviors that prop up an unjustly unequal social system, I think the real animals in Winnie the Pooh are a bit bougie.

[mewtwoandme]

I was hoping this would all blow over, but since it's continuing to happen, now with people attacking other artists of the commewnity. I'm putting out my two fucking cents! Cause this whole art/character theft and pointing fingers, who stole what from who bullshit it driving me up the fucking wall!!

Long story short, it started with me and one other blog whose name I won't mention publicly. Despite the horrible light they tried to paint me in, I don't want anyone going to this person and ganging up on them. This person had some serious bitterness towards more "popular" artists and claimed that I've made characters similar to theirs and once used a pose they apparently used before (which was a very common pose, considering it was a reference from the game version of mega Y). Since then, they had desperately tried to conjure up evidence, narrowing down to the most miniscule detail how I've been stealing from them when I hadn't even known their blog existed until I was forcefully thrown into that unnecessary drama with the unhinged call-out posts they've made. With this being said, I'd like to point out that they never came to me or addressed this concern with me in the first place. They had every opportunity to privately DM me if they had suspected I was "stealing," but no, simply because they already made up their mind that I was a thief, that was a good enough reason to lack common fucking sense and decency, making what should have been a private issue public, going on to villainize and dehumanize me. And apparently, it hasn't stopped with me either, cause recently I've been seeing other artists in the community having to deal with this where people are being white knights on high horses, pointing fingers on how one artist's mewtwo looks "the same" if not "totally identical" as another artist's mewtwo. I refuse to believe it's a coincidence. But what makes me disgusted is that since TC's post, apparently it's had the opposite effect on some people and they're hopping on this blame bandwagon like it's some damn media trend!!!

This is NOT okay! Nothing about this kind of behavior is funny! It's upsetting to all of us. We dont need you causing problems where there isn't any, thinking you're doing us a favor! The majority of us are adults for gods sake! We are old enough where we don't need other people coming to us being tattle tails saying this person did this and that. That's what little children do! If you suspect any form of theft, I think I speak for ALL creators in this commewnity that we'd prefer you DM us privately saying something like "Hey, I think this person is copying you, might wanna look into it." And if possible, provide a link to the art in question, for which we would kindly thank you for making us aware and we'll handle it ourselves from there. Just a brief, yet SIMPLE interaction...that's all we ask!!! Don't even come at me with "Well, it's scary attempting to talk to an artist that's well known." Or dare I say ~pOpUlAr~ If you claim that taking the first step to send me a quick DM makes you nervous, yet you have no problem making public call outs in posts or asks, belittling and degrading what could actually be innocent artists doing nothing wrong, literally leaving yourself open to all kinds of comments and opinions from all kinds of people....I'm sorry but your anxiety isn't as bad as you say it is then, if being rude and ignorant in a public post/ask is easier for you. If you come to us, shaming someone else who 9/10 probably isn't doing anything wrong, thinking you'll be in our good graces for doing so, sorry, you're not going to be told, "Good job!" with a pat on the back and given a lollipop! You're just being an asshole.

Quick reality check for everyone who's made it this far before I end this train wreck of a rant:

People can have similar ideas that coincide with one another! There's only so much you can do when a whole community is focused around drawing the same character! We mainly draw mewtwos and mews, you're bound to find a plethora of similar colors, patterns, and designs because of it! Creativity only goes so far when trying to stay true to a character and not stray too far. It's not a crime to take inspiration from other artists' characters, we actually encourage this! It makes us feel good that you liked something we've done and you want to incorporate it into your own designs! It makes us happy that we inspired you! The line is crossed when someone does a literal copy/paste of a character down to the exact detail, and they call it their own original creation. That my friends is what stealing actually is!

[cameronluvr]

GUESS WHO — rafe cameron x fem!reader x barry x fem!reader

summary: after fooling around with both rafe and barry at separate times, you fall pregnant and have to figure out which of them is the father. you gain the courage to tell both of them with sarah’s help.

warnings: mentions of pregnancy, slut shaming (by rafe), kinda toxic!rafe, reader is 18 + rafe is 20 + barry is 22, crying, arguing, mentions of weed, cussing, name calling (whore, bitch, slut, all by rafe ofc), — lmk if i missed any! ≽ܫ≼ ⭒

: ̗̀➛ 𝓶𝔂 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

you’d been on and off sleeping with both rafe and barry behind each others backs for weeks now. you don’t want rafe to know about barry, and vice versa, as you were afraid of them both killing each other.

sure, there was a chance they could’ve told each other, but they weren’t that close to exchange details about their sex life. they hung out a lot, but they weren’t exactly friends.

you couldn’t pin who was better, though, they’re equally as good as each other. rafe had a slightly longer dick, but barry had thicker girth. you were literally so cock drunk that you couldn’t give up one for the other. you needed both…

… until you’re sat on the bathroom floor three weeks later, crying while clutching onto a positive pregnancy test.

“fuck, fuck, fuck,” you place your hands on your head after tossing the test across the room, gliding your fingers through your hair to calm yourself down. you stand up now, breathing loudly, quickly and heavily as you can’t help but panic.

you’re pregnant at 18 with two possible baby daddies. how are you possibly supposed to keep calm?

you have zero idea of what to do. you can’t tell barry because it might not be his, for the same reason you cannot tell rafe. fuck. what have you gotten yourself into?

after some more minutes go by of you panting, crying and overthinking, you finally manage to reduce your tears and calm yourself down enough to call sarah, one of your best friends.

“y/n! hey girl” she answered almost immediately, sounding happy to hear from you. she hadn’t seen you in about three days because you were sick, and now you know why.

“hey sar, i uh— can i see you? i kinda need someone right now…” you ask, sniffling and rubbing your tears away. “are you okay? what happened?” she asks in a concerned tone. “uh, i’ll tell you in person… it’s easier.” you gulp, feeling anxious as hell. rafe’s her brother, and you don’t exactly want to tell her you’ve been seeing her brother, as well as barry.

“yeah, that’s okay, you wanna come over?” sarah asks kindly, making you think for a second. what if rafe’s home? you sure as hell don’t want to talk to him about this, not yet anyway… you can just avoid him if he is home, you guess.

“okay, yeah, thanks… i’ll be there soon” you smile, wiping the rest of your tears away as you hang up the phone. you’re glad to have a friend like sarah, she’s always there for you no matter what… you leave your house and begin making your way to tannyhill, arriving around 15 minutes later.

you walk up to the house and knock on the front door, hearing fast footsteps banging down the stairs from inside. sarah opens the door, smiling at you before pulling you into a hug. neither of you let go of the hug, and stood there for a good minute before pulling away. “come upstairs, come on” she holds your hand, walking to the stairs with you.

you both walk upstairs and into sarah’s bedroom, where she closes the door for some privacy. “sit down” she tells you, walking over to her bed and both sitting down next to each other. “what’s going on?” she asks, sitting close to you and brushing your hair out of your face with her fingers before resting her hand on your shoulder, rubbing it to comfort you.

“uh… fuck, it’s quite a lot.” you sniffle, looking down to anxiously fiddle with your hands. “it’s okay, you can tell me anything” she reassures you, seeing you nod. “well, uh… i don’t even know how to say this, but… fuck. i’m pregnant.” you blurt out, seeing her entire face drop. “y—what?!” she widens her eyes, her hand on your shoulder now feeling like a frozen grip.

“…yeah” you nod, gaining the courage to look her in the eyes, which only made you tear up again for some reason. “oh my god— what! with who?!” she asks with utter shock and confusion, and slight excitement.

“uh,” you hesitate. “that’s kinda the thing…” your eyes wander away from hers, wanting to avoid answering but you know you have to say now. “it’s not like, jj, is it?” she asks, snickering to make a joke out of the situation, which seemed to make you laugh.

“no, no, it’s way worse” you reply with a laugh, making her truly wonder who. “pope?” she asks, seeing you shake your head. “… rafe.” you say, too afraid to admit the other possible father right now.

her face dropped more than it did last time. the room falls silent for a second as she takes a while to gather her words. “r—rafe?!” she asks, less excited and more afraid now. “yes, but—” you try to say, but she cuts you off.

“you’ve been sleeping with rafe?! my brother? why?” she asks, feeling sorry for you for even going close to him, given how crazy and mean he is. “i don’t know—”

“but, why rafe? he’s a fucking psycho. he’s my brother, i know him more than anyone. you do not want to have a baby with him y/n—” she tries to advise you, but you haven’t told her the rest yet.

“sar.” you cut her off, “what?”

“it might not be rafe’s, is what i’m trying to say…” you tell her, seeing all sorts of different emotions portrayed on her face. “what the hell do you mean by that?!” she asks, raising her voice but not loud enough for any of her relatives to hear. “i’ve been seeing rafe, yeah, but i’ve been seeing someone else too, but i don’t know who’s worse” you tell her.

“who can possibly be worse than rafe?” sarah asks, not thinking for a second that there’s anyone out there as demented as her brother. “uh, barry… that drug dealer g—”

“barry?!?! y/n!” sarah stands up from her bed now in pure disbelief. “i know, sar,” you sigh, feeling stupid for being with either of them. “so you’re telling me you’re pregnant and you don’t know who the dad is, and it could be rafe or barry?” she asks, repeating the story to you to make sure she got it straight. you nod, seeing her pace around her room in shock.

“y/n!!! you know for a second i thought jj would’ve been a shock, but those two?!” sarah says, thinking about how close you and jj were at one stage. the only reason you never dated him before was because of the whole ‘no pogue on pogue macking’ rule.

“sar, trust me, i know it looks fucking bad, but i do not know what to do…” you tell her. she sighs, trying to come up with a way to help you. “well, first off, do you want to keep it or no?” she asks, sitting back down next to you on the bed.

“… no, fuck, i don’t know. i don’t want either of their babies, but i don’t know if i can have an abortion… what will my parents think?” you overthink, terrifying yourself even more. “fuck what they think. what do you want?” she asks. you hadn’t thought about it too much before, you didn’t know if you wanted kids or not, you weren’t expecting it so soon…

“i don’t know what i want…” you say, your eyes filling up with tears once again. “do you know how far along you are?” she asks, trying to get as much information as possible to help you. “no…” you shake your head, wiping the tears falling from your eyes.

“don’t cry, come here” she comforts you, pulling you into a tight hug and stroking your hair. you can’t help but cry as you nuzzle your face into her shoulder, trying hard to not break down. “i’m here for you, okay?” she says, feeling you nod against her. “we can book a doctors appointment together, yeah? i’ll help you with whatever you need” she reassures, being the best friend.

“thank you…” you sniffle, lifting your head up to wipe your eyes. all of a sudden, the bedroom door opens, making you both dart your eyes towards it. “what’re you doin’ here?” rafe asks, peeking his head into the room. “get out, rafe” sarah strictly tells him, making him frown. “why you cryin’?” he looks at you, ignoring his little sister.

“rafe, leave her alone!” sarah raises her voice now, picking up a pillow and throwing it at him. “chill out, dude, she’s my friend too” rafe argues back with his sister as he fully enters the room. “i don’t care, get out of my room” sarah is adamant on getting him out, standing up from the bed to try to force him out.

“what’s wrong with you?” rafe asks, pushing her away as she tries to push him out of the open door. “no, what’s wrong with you!” sarah argues, the two of them bickering back and forth until you were fed up. “stop it, guys” you stand up from the bed, attempting to separate them from each other.

they stopped once you told them to stop, which made sarah give her brother a weird look. he’s never listened to anyone that fast before, he really is into you. “rafe, just come in” you say, needing to tell him sooner or later. you pull him by his arm away from the door so you could shut it fully, now standing face to face with him. “what’s wrong?” he asks, seeing how upset you are.

“it’s a long story rafe…” you sigh, not knowing how he’ll react to the baby news, but certainly knowing how how he will to barry. “i’m all ears.” he tells you. “why are you acting like that?” sarah frowns at her brother, wondering why he’s being so soft. “shut up, let her talk” rafe shushes his sister without looking at her, his eyes are on you. sarah had seriously never seen him like this before.

“rafe… i’m pregnant.” you sigh, not wanting to explain all over again knowing he’ll have a completely different reaction to sarah. his eyebrows raise, and mouth drops. “really?” he asks, not seeming entirely happy. obviously he’s going to automatically assume it’s his, considering how many times you’ve fucked over the past month.

“yeah, but…” you say, hesitating again. “but what?” he asks, his tone more serious now. “uh…” you literally don’t know what to say. sarah sees you struggling, and sighs. “it might not be yours, rafe” sarah says, telling him so you don’t have to. the room falls silent for a second as you both watch his face completely change to angry.

“what?” he frowns his brows with squinted eyes, looking at you as if you were crazy. “…you’re not my boyfriend, rafe. i do, y’know, see other people” you tell him, seeing him shake his head. “i don’t care, what the fuck? i’ been fuckin’ you, for you to fuck other guys?” his voice raises now. “rafe—” sarah tries to say, but he cuts her off with a ‘shh’.

“it’s not ‘other guys’, it’s one other guy. besides, i’m not your girlfriend so what i do is none of your business.” you defend yourself, pointing a finger at him. “none of my business?!” he yells, raising his eyebrows in disbelief. “you being a fucking slut is none of my business?” he asks, infuriated.

“rafe!” sarah gasps.

“yeah, i’m definitely a slut.” you scoff a laugh, shaking your head at his idiocy. you aren’t together, he hasn’t asked you out, so what makes him think you belong to him only?

“yeah, you are. if i knew you were a whore i wouldn’t’ve fucked your sorry ass in the first place,” rafe belittles you, always believing he was above you because you’re a pogue. “she’s not a whore, don’t be such a dick!” sarah argues with her brother, not liking the way he’s speaking to you.

“shut up, sar, that’s why you two are best friends. just two little slutty bitches together” he scoffs, shaking his head as he laughs at you both. “oh, and you’re not?!” sarah laughs back at him. “yeah, you’ve literally slept with half the girls on the island, and we’re the sluts?” you add.

“right,” rafe scoffs, finding your words amusing. “who’s the other guy?” he asks, changing the topic, looking at you with an intimidating expression. “…it doesn’t matter.” you gulp, side eyeing sarah for a quick second.

“what the fuck was that for?” rafe caught onto the way you looked at sarah, which made him immediately suspicious. “nothing—”

“what’re you hiding from me, y/n?” he asks, taking a step closer which made you gulp, looking up at him as he towers over your vulnerable self. “i’m not hiding nothing!—”

“then tell me who the hell you fucked.” he demands, his lip quivering in rage. “… barry. there, ya’ happy?” you spill out since he wanted to know so bad. he falls silent for a moment before laughing at you. “barry? drug dealer barry? are you fuckin’ serious?” he went from angry to enraged, yelling at you now.

you don’t answer, you only look up at him with tears in your eyes, which tells him that you are being serious. “you— what the fuck? you been goin’ behind my back and fuckin’ barry?” he yells, making you flinch. “rafe, barry doesn’t know either—” sarah tries to help, seeing him turn to look at her for a second before looking back at you. “you really are a fuckin’ whore, you know that?” he laughs angrily, trying to maintain his sanity. “tell him. go fuckin’ tell him, cause either way you’re gonna abort that thing.” he yells, looking you up and down in disgust. “am i?!” you ask at his audacity. it’s your decision, not his nor barry’s.

“yeah, you fuckin’ are. cause even if it is mine, i don’t want nothin’ to do with it.” he cruelly tells you, his face just inches away from yours. your lips quiver as you can’t help but cry now. his mean words seriously hurt your feelings.

“good luck with barry” he sarcastically scoffs a laugh before turning around and completely walking out of the room, slamming the door shut after him. his angry footsteps lead to his own room, where you hear the door slam shut from down the hallway.

“y/n…” sarah says, quickly pulling you into a hug. you hug her back and sob for a minute, before pulling away to wipe your eyes. “fuck” you whisper to yourself, thinking about what to do now.

“i’m gonna go to barry’s.” you say, grabbing your phone from sarah’s bed and putting it in your pocket. “are you sure? do you want me to come with you?” she asks. “no, it’s okay. i don’t think he’s gotten over the time you supposedly robbed him” you roll your eyes, talking about the pogues. “true” she shrugs it off, seeing your point, he probably wouldn’t react well to seeing her.

— after leaving sarah’s, you head over to barry’s trailer, where you see him sitting out on his porch, smoking a joint. you walk up to him and grab his attention, making him look at you. “hey, pretty girl” he grins once he saw you, removing the joint from his lips. barry’s nickname for you was pretty girl. he always called you it, no matter how you looked.

you smile with a blush, seeing him pat the empty space next to him, motioning for you to come sit. “y’alright? what you here for?” he asks, setting his joint aside on the table in front of him once you sit down. “uh, i need to talk to you actually…” you say, giving him a serious look. “what’ you need to talk about?” he looks into your eyes, giving you his full attention.

“please don’t freak out when i tell you this but,” you sigh. “don’t freak out? what is it?” he asks, frowning at you, kinda freaking out now since you told him not to… “long story short. i’m pregnant,”

“oh shit,”

“but, but… i’ve been seeing someone else too, so i don’t know if it’s yours or not…” you decide to just straight up tell him instead of leading it on.

“damn, who else you been fuckin’?” he asks with an amusing grin on his face, not knowing what to think. he doesn’t know you too well, he’s just your weed dealer, and he isn’t obsessed with you like rafe is. “…rafe.” you awkwardly tell him, knowing he’ll laugh, and of course, he laughed. “country club?”

“damn, girl, you just foolin’ around huh?” he asks with an amused grin. “i guess” you shrug. “so yo’ baby daddy is either me or rafe cameron?” he asks, seeing you nod. “damn.” he says again, running his hand through his hair. his reaction was way less meaner and angrier than rafe’s was, which you were entirely thankful for.

“i know, i’m sorry… i told rafe like 20 minutes ago and he flipped the fuck out. telling me to abort it, calling me a whore and shit,” you sigh. “he can be one sensitive son of a bitch, bruh.” he shakes his head. “what are you gonna do, tho’?” he’s curious to know. “i have no idea. i mean, i don’t want a kid right now, especially not rafe’s,” you say, giving him a crazy look.

“and i mean, you’re a drug dealer… my parents won’t particularly be too happy about that.” you say, seeing him nod in understanding. “well, whatever you decide to do, i’ll be here for you, k?” he looks at you, gently placing his hand on your leg for comfort.

“… thank you, barry, that means a lot” you smile at him, letting him know how grateful you are to have someone other than sarah be here for you right now, given that rafe probably doesn’t want to speak to you ever again.

“no problem, pretty girl, y’want somethin’ to eat?” he asks before standing up and walking to the trailer door, opening it and turning to look at you for your response. “what you got?” you giggle, seeing him motion for you to follow him. you stand up and join him, walking to his kitchen together.

at least one of the possible dads is trying.

a kinda long one for u guys to make up for being gone for a couple of days!! ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ i love this one. rafe is always a little bitch 😩 i hope you guys enjoy + thank you for all the support on my previous fics! you’re all the best ㅤㅤᵕ̈ // not proofread. if you spot any mistakes please feel free to correct me 🎀

@cameronluvr

[adventuringblind]

Drive With You Forever

Chapter 4.5: the one where Charles has more experience

Max Verstappen x Charles Leclerc x Lando Norris x Reader

Chapter summary: things heat up between the trio

Warnings: uhhh smut? Kind of? Talks of sexual things, dom/sub dynamics, lots of communication, Max does some research, Charles has a massive sex drive

Notes: This was way more intimate than I was expecting, but I just kinda ran with it.

Previous <-

Masterlist

It's certainly interesting how things can come up in conversation. How it can start innocent and the become the most filthiest thing you've ever spoken.

That's how Charles feels right now.

He wasn't meaning to say it. He just wasn't thinking when he did.

They'd gone to a club after their most recent race. It's not all the time the female can go do these things since she is merely nineteen years old.

Clubbing together didn't look weird since there were so many people around. To the naked eye, it seemed that they were merely good friends.

But something was different about her tonight.

Max had whispered something in her ear when he arrived and immediately started looking for the pair.

She walked over to him first. More like swayed. Her hips moved side to side in a dress that complimented every aspect of her.

He didn't even have anything to drink yet. And since when did she get so bold?!

They'd had small conversations about sex life. How Charles could join them at some point if he wanted to. And he definitely does. But the insecurities that form in the pit of his stomach make him back out every time.

Is it his eyes? Maybe her lips? How about all of both of them.

Having two good-looking people invite you to have sex with them is not an opportunity that comes around every day.

She's so close now. Her hands spread flat against his chest. "Wanna dance?"

He was already gone.

Max must have deemed he needed a push or something because he downed a shot and then let her drag him to the dance floor.

Max just watched. Eyeing both of them for their reactions.

The Monegasque knows how things work between them. Max had literally sat him down after a few months of dating and decided to go over the entire thing.

Long story short: the female their with has no idea about sexual things unless Max has explained it to her (someone sent her an article about how to please a man you need to fake an orgasm sometimes, Max was livid about it and now keeps her away from reaserching sex online). Obviously, Max is in charge. What he says goes. She is ridiculously keen on putting his pleasure above her own. Max pointed out he learned when she's faking and made sure he took care of her cause she would do exactly what she's told and not think twice about herself. Apparently, he learned that the hard way. He went through the comprehensive list of their kinks. A yes and no chart. Then kindly asked Charles to add his (he got the red pen, of course).

Knowing what he knows now about them, it's no wonder she clings to every word Max says like it's her lifeline sometimes. He couldn't imagine being eighteen and only knowing the basic function of sex.

Regardless, now he's here, her ass grinding into his hips to the best of whatever was being played. She keeps looking at Max, his face and hands moving to lay in different ways like they were communicating by code.

She's guiding his hands now. He didn't realize how awkward he was standing there until now. Good grief he's useless sometimes.

He loses himself in the feeling of where his hands now lay across her hips, on the cusp of touching her ass.

If everyone else wasn't drinking, they would be screwed for sure. Max isn't even trying to look jealous! He's just smirking at the two if then together, probably getting off on it.

She makes eye contact with Max again. He taps his ear a few times. Then she's facing Charles. "Can you take me home?"

Oh, it could be so innocent. But he knows it's not.

He doesn't say no, though.

~

Charles covered his mouth when he said it. They'd been making conversation before thing escalated like they inevitably would.

"Have you done this before, Charlie? Because I've only ever had one partner at a time." Max had asked. Trying to keep the theme of complete transparency with one another.

"I got invited to an to a sleepover at a friend's house right after I turned eighteen. He took me out to a party his friends were hosting. Things got going, and everybody was having sex with everyone at one point. That's when I found out I like men also." Charles laughed nervously. Then, mentally hit his head on a rock. He sounded like a slut.

"Glad to know we won't be completely lost then!"

Charles stared blankly at the Dutch. "So you don't care I did that? Or that I've done this with multiple partners a few times since?"

"Why would we care, Charlie?" The girl beside Max practically whispers.

On the bright side at the lecture from Max, they'd handed over clean blood panels. So he's not left explaining that he is clean and isn't going to be spreading anything around.

~

The girl watches closely as the two males move about the room. She'd been told to stay put in the chair while Max pulled things out that they needed.

Charles looked like he might throw up from anxiety, and she wanted nothing more than to console him.

He'd just talked about how he'd wanted this for so long. Why did he look so nervous then?

Thankfully, Max didn't tell her she couldn't speak. "Maxy-" he turns to look at her. She could already feel herself falling into the stupid fuzzy head space he likes having her in. "Can I sit with Charles?"

Max asses the Monegasque, noticing his now sick complexion and far away stare. He nods to the girl in approval.

You'd think she wouldn't like being told what to do because of her upbringing. She'd tell you differently. Max knew how to make her feel things she couldn't on her own and is always trying to keep her safe. His words bring safety and comfort to her mind. They make it so her mind can't overthink the little things.

You'd also think Max would be similar in this setting like he is on the race track. Here, though, things are different. With her, he has an unrelenting calm amidst his never-ending storm. She can calm Mad Max with a singular, gentle touch. And for that, he makes sure to treat her right. Whether that be going hard because she tried to do something stupid or being gentle because she's feeling insecure that day.

She pads over to where Charles is sitting on the bed and plops herself down next to him. "Charlie? You don't have to do this if you don't want to. It's not like we're in a rush."

"No-" comes out faster then he would've liked and his face flushes again. "I'm just in love and don't want to mess it up here."

She taps her chin with her index finger. "I think if you can mess up a relationship because of something in the bedroom, then it must not have been working to begin with"

"She's right. Someone ignoring a safe word stems long before they actually get in bed." Max calls from the bathroom. Whatever he's looking for is somehow eluding him. "I give up. We'll have to do that on a different day."

Both the girl and Charles send Max equally confused glances. "Remember the stuff we purchased yesterday? I cant find it."

The girl nods in understanding. Max had been furiously exploring some new things. He had never been with a male before and was feeling wildly unprepared for this certain event. He wants to know and understand how things work so Chatles isn't left with nothing.

Things were read. Some videos watched. Then, he made a few purchases. Nex things to add to the ever heavier box in their closet.

"Are you speaking of... lube?" Charles is laughing. She is glad to see him relax a bit. "You realize I've been single for far too long, yes? Did you think I wouldn't have any?"

"To be fair, I wasn't thinking much at all."

"See Charlie! You're not the only one who's a bit nervous!"

~

Charles' hotel was across the street. Thankfully meaning they didn't have to walk far in sweatshirts and hats with the hoods pulled over.

She felt odd not being in her own room. But her thoughts go back to Charles and how maybe this would be more comfortable for him.

Charles pulls a bottle out of his travel bag and tosses it to Max, who catches it with ease. "Someone's been horny." Max smirks. Once again, pulling out that furious red color onto the Monegasques cheeks.

"In my defense, you two are incredibly sexy."

"Want to find out just how sexy?"

"I think it would be a sad waist of time if we didn't."

Max glances at her patiently waiting form. "Remember how I said this is going to be different than when it was just the two of us?" She nods her head. "It's okay if you don't know what to do. If you have a question just ask." She nods her head again.

"Knees on the bed." Ah, there's the demanding Max she knows so well.

She pulls herself onto the bed and faces the two males on her knees.

Max pulls Charles in by his better loop. Then, he leans over him and plants a hungry kiss on his lips. She'd seen them kiss before, but this was different. This was more.

She watched as Charles relaxed into Max. His arms wrapping around the Dutchs neck to pull him closer.

They allow themselves to lose themselves in each other.

She squirms around a bit. Her knees sinking further into the plush of the mattress. She wants to join also. Is that allowed? She doesn’t know but she doesn’t want to interfere with their moment.

Max pulls away breathless, panting both for air and more of Charles. “One thing we don’t know yet is where you fall Charlie. Do you like telling people what to do? Perhaps you like being told what to do?” Their eye contact is intense but Charles meets it and doesn’t back down

“Perhaps, a bit of both at times.” Then he’s pulling Max in.

This is new. Max always says what to do. Max is always in charge. Is Charles also in charge now?

She wished she’d come up with these questions when Max first sat her down to explain this to her. She curses her lack of knowledge. Sometimes she wishes she knew what to look for so she could figure it out on her own.

She fidgets a bit. Her eyes attempting to focus on the two boys in front of her. Was she supposed to find this attractive?

Max attacks Charles’ neck with his teeth. Surely staking his claim with a mark on the monegasque. Charles’ half squeak half moan only confirms her theory.

“Mon Amour, I think are girl want to join.”

Max detaches himself from Charles. His eyes graze over your body as if he’s inspecting a piece of jewelry. “Is that what you want? Do you want to come join us?”

It’s a question about if she’s comfortable or not. She wants to join but doesn’t know how. A simple nod of her head is what she can get out. Words don't accurately explain the mess of thoughts in her head.

Charles looks to Max for guidance on their next move. "I've never done this before. Show me how you do it, yeah?"

Charles just about buckles as his knees. How did Max's voice become that much more sexy than an hour ago. It seems a but ridiculous.

He steps over to the girl on the bed, wrapping her arms around her waist and pulling her closer to the edge.

She yelps in syprise at the action. Her mind takes notice of the difference between their hands. Max has rough hands. Large enough to grip around her with ease. Charles has nimble hands. His fingers are gentle as the dance across her skin.

Charles tilts her head up to make her look at him. Then, he slowly places a wet kiss on her lips. A string of saliva still connecting them as he pulls away.

She closes her eyes and gets lost in the new sensations. Scaqred to open her eyes and see Max and Charles no longer there.

Charles reaches behind him. His palm open towards Max, indicating for the Dutch to join him. "You realize you're allowed to touch me, right?" He giggles.

"I'm going to remind you once again that I have no idea what I'm doing."

"Good thing I do because we're never going to get anywhere at this rate." Then Charles is peeling off his shirt and tossing it to the floor.

Max has obviously seen Charles shirtless. Now, he just got a chance to let his gaze linger. He lets his fingers run through the lines of Charles' abs and grace the start of his V-line.

Meanwhile, Charles has started his work on her. Delicately undoing the zipper of her dress and sliding it off her.

Something between shock and excitement covers his face as he sees her lack of undergarments. "Max made you out to be so good, I guess he lied, qhm?"

She looks like she might cry for a brief moment. "I am good! Max said not to wear anything..." she blushes and returns her gaze to the floor. "He said it might make you want to come back with us tonight."

Charles cranes his neck to look at Max. The Dutch does nothing but wink at him. If there is one thing he appreciates about the Dutchman, it's his the way every one of his moves is calculated.

Charles turns back to the girl and takes a moment to admire her body. His fingers dance across her skin like when he plays a soft melody on the piano.

Hands are everywhere, exploring the most intimate parts of each other. The air in the room grows thicker with every moan.

When they're thoroughly fucked out, Max goes to start aftercare preparations. Leaving the Monegasque to keep an eye on the female.

Charles does the one thing Max told him he does every time without fail. It doesn't matter why or how, but it always ends the same way. Charles could see the obvious look of disappointment on her face as he left.

Charles leans back over her body. First, he starts low and kisses the scars on her legs. Then, he moves up to her thighs. Gentle and slow, savoring every inch if her skin.

"You are so beautiful, mon amour."

Next are her sides and chest. The dull marks here take up the majority of her skin. These ones he peppers.

Her arms come after, moving all the way from her hands to her neck.

Then, he plants rapid kisses to her cheeks, forehead, and nose. Lastly, landing on her lips. The love pouring into every second of the connection.

Max watches on. And endearing and warm smile creeps onto his face at the sight of them.

Most people could never fathom this working, but here they are. They love each other endlessly. They hold respect for each other. It's something that not many people have.

Her father may have wanted her heart to himself, but it found them, and that's all that matters.

~

Next ->

Tags: @styles-sunflower @purplephantomwolf @boiohboii @reblog-princess @jjsprobablywrong @Ipab @jayda12

[whumpshaped]

Asking you about Marriage name changes now

long post ahead lol

okay so first thing first u have to understand that hungarian names work in the following way:

[surname] [first name] [second name if you have one] (<- that is what you would call a middle name but it's not in the middle here so we... dont call it that)

giving u a common example, a woman might be called kovács anna mária, where kovács is the surname, anna is the first name and mária is the second name.

now onto the actual marriage stuff. taking your husband's name in marriage is pretty standard, right? lots of mr and mrs johnsons running around in the US, everyone knows that from at least american tv. now, in hungary, the tradition until maybe like ...... 30 years ago, was to take your husband's entire name. that's just how it was! that was the traditional way of marrying!

so if you had your kovács anna marrying someone named pék márton, suddenly kovács anna isnt kovács anna anymore, she's now pék mártonné. :) oh your maiden name? no thats lost sorry. ur now known as "wife of pék márton" on every document !

but zi, if someone told me their name was pék mártonné, how would i know from that what their actual first name is? what do i call them? tough fucking luck! unless they kindly tack it onto the end when theyre introducing themselves (as many people do, they'll go "my name is pék mártonné anna" so you have something to call them), you just have no way of knowing! and if you only see someones name on paper or smth, u cant even ask! u just dont know! u have nooo idea how many times i just Didnt Know what my teachers' legal names were, because i knew them as anna néni or smth (mrs anna essentially) but their name would be some shit like pék mártonné.

so i have beef with that! what the fuck do u mean the married couple is called pék márton and pék mártonné! fucked up! gross! i wanna know what ur wife's fucking name is!!!!!!

about 30 years ago, traditions changed. people started going hey, maybe i DO want my fucking name, at least my first name. and they started taking their names as pék anna for example. husband's surname, their old first name. i think thats reasonable.

another common thing you will see people do is take their name as pékné kovács anna. thats how my mother took her name (which she said she regrets bc its a mouthful and takes too long to sign AKFJHDKSF). so husband's surname + né, and the entire maiden name of the wife.

and now here's the full list of combination shenanigans you can engage in when you get married, taking our example couple pék márton and kovács anna:

they can both keep their names the same, pék márton and kovács anna

wife can take husband's full name and have her name be pék mártonné

wife can take husband's full name AND keep her own entire maiden name and have her name be pék mártonné kovács anna

wife can take husband's surname and keep her own entire maiden name and have her name be pékné kovács anna

wife can take husband's surname without -né with her own first name and have her name be pék anna

husband can take wife's surname with his own first name and have his name be kovács márton

they can combine their surnames and both take it, and then they'd be pék-kovács márton and pék-kovács anna, or kovács-pék márton and kovács-pék anna. (this is only an option if your surname is just One surname. if your surname was already a combination name like nagy-kovács, you can't take your spouse's name and become pék-nagy-kovács)

basically... idk. i dont wanna diss anyone who wants to take her husband's full name (and yes im being so so heteronormative bc hungary doesnt have gay marriage lol idk how thatd go naming wise). thats rly not my issue. if u Want To, please by all means go ahead and do it. but i just think its incredibly telling that u dont see that nowadays. i think to not give a woman any other option than to literally have no name of her own is fucked up?? so yeah i'll forever have beef w that. and i'll yell abt it forever. im glad we have so many options now :)

[shotorozu]

i feel like im annoying lol but here i am again 🥴

🥴 how do da boys react to a super bimbo mc like shes busty, sweet, innocent, helpful as much as she can be and doesnt really realize when people are hitting on her, she just thinks theyre being extra friendly. (Tamaki, izuku, shoto, denki, bakougo) or any of ur choice

Sorry if I’m being annoying ( •᷄ὤ•᷅)？ and tysm

bimbo s/o

character(s) : bakugou katsuki, todoroki shouto, amajiki tamaki (bnha)

probably (?) part one // ?

legend : [Y/N = your name] female! s/o, quirk not specific

headcanon type : fluff, crack (x reader)

note(s) : sooo 🤩 it’s my birthday tomorrow, not excited about that?? not sure! but im definitely gonna post more tomorrow, just because

»»————-　♡　————-««

bakugou katsuki

you didn’t seem like his type tbh. you’re kinda an airhead, and you’re sweet and helpful to everyone

and awfully innocent,,

so, you seemed like the person that bakugou would try and stay away from, but nope!

not in this case. i’m not sure what conspired in this explosive blond’s head, but he had a oddly specific attraction to you

he used to hate being around you, but it’s also quite entertaining being around you but why, you may ask?

not only are you super nice, and helpful, but you’re very likable too! which caused you to get secret admirers, and fanboys

but you also so happen to be clueless as fuck, so katsuki would always stick around— obviously very amused, only to tell you what their true intentions are

“what do they mean, go out? like,, outside?”

“no, dumbo. they wanna date you.”

“..like the calendar?”

“hah?? are you dumb?” he actually hated how oblivious you were at first, but he just got used to it

but this clueless airhead trait of yours is what he also hates, because when he developed feelings for you— he’d have to tell you

and,, he’s not the best with being direct with romantic stuff. so— you can see how that went.

he ended up confessing you in the most direct way he could’ve said it, but you still. didn’t. understand.

“fuck sake, i want to be your significant other. your fucking lover, the bitch that’ll be with you until this dumbass brain of yours stops working.”

okay, he was a little too direct, but at least you know his feelings!

when you both finally get together, everyone is shocked. like,, you, the sweetheart that likes helping people— dating thee bakugou katsuki??

everyone thought you were threatened to date him, because you didn’t understand other people’s advances— but in reality, katsuki just told you what he felt

straight from the heart.

also, since you’re also quite busty, katsuki loves sleeping on them— he literally won’t sleep, until he has his head resting on those milkers of yours

“maybe this is all you’re good for, huh? a fuckin’ head rest. there might not be anything up there, but at least it gives me some good fuckin’ sleep.”

he,, doesn’t mean that. you’re useful in so many other ways, but he loves pretending that he thinks that way, because of your replies

“ah, yes! i’m fine with being your head rest, katsuki. rest well, love!”

you’re not hurt, because he makes it a point to tell you multiple times a day that you mean lots to him.

but he gets super mad when people tell you that you’re stupid. because he can only tell you that!!

todoroki shouto

you also didn’t seem like you’d be his type,, everyone thought he would’ve wanted someone that’s smart as momo, or something similar

but he’s very content with being with you, for reasons he can’t seem to figure out.

he has his habit of watching you help people from afar, and he couldn’t help but smile whenever he engages in conversations with you

yeah sure, you might be more of an airhead than most people— but you have a heart of gold! and that’s what gathered his attention

sometimes, he’s quite clueless to some social cues— but even he can connect the dots

which you can’t seem to do. but you’re in luck! shouto’s usually the one that tells you what they mean

it’s something he loves and hates, only because of how popular you are with people in general.

sometimes, shouto debates if he should even tell you what they mean— because well,, he likes you.

usually, shouto would interpret things to you like this

“,, they like you,, romantically.”

“shou, are you sure? they look like they wanna be my friend!” he lets you call him by his first name, just because of how content you look by calling him ‘shouto’

he ends up whispering something into your ear, and your eyes light up in realization. “oh! so how princess bubblegum likes marceline?”

“,, yeah.”

but being shouto todoroki has it’s advantages. he isn’t afraid of being as direct as he could possibly be.

“may i have the honor of being your lifelong partner?”

“..?”

“oh, romantically. i’d love to be your lover, Y/N.”

“..oh! that’s what you meant.”

the way he sees you stumble with your words, as you pace back in forth— completely flustered by his words

makes him smile

and it all ends well when his friends see that his wallpaper is literally him laying down on your chest

which is something he always wanted to do

“shouto,, did you finally confess?!”

“yes. they said yes.”

they’re not really surprised that you understood, courtesy to shouto’s bluntness.

he is your protector against all of the people that make you seem useless. man literally lashed out when his father asked him to date someone with ‘more intelligence’

“Y/N may not be the definition of being book smart, but Y/N’s not useless!”

in short— he’s the bimbo protector! he’ll always be patient around you, and he would never dare to dumb you down.

amajiki tamaki

oh lOrd, please help him

you’re so kind, sweet, and helpful. you’d help anyone— regardless of their personality. and that’s what made tamaki interested in you

but you’re also very popular. which he could see why— since you’re attractive in a unique and special way.

tamaki absolutely disliked the idea of your kindness being taken advantaged of. i mean,, the guts of some people!

but he also hated being the one to break the news to you good or bad

he’s not good with the blunt stuff either, and he might’ve been worried about being around you— because well,, you look like you wouldn’t even hurt a fly.

“tamaki, what do they mean by ‘coming home with them for a nice time’ do they.. want to play mario cart with me?”

he looks like he needs to pass out, but he ends up telling you anyway. he’s just lucky that you could hear him.

but he sighs in relief when you end up kindly declining

nejire and mirio are SO amused by this pairing. i mean, it’s an interesting dynamic! how could they not be invested?

yet, they refuse to even explain things to you, especially when tamaki’s around to do said explaining

because apparently, ‘it’ll help you socialize more, especially with Y/N!’

but remember when i said that tamaki wasn’t great with the blunt approach? yeah— he’d have a heart attack, just trying to explain his feelings

“i— uhm how do i say this,, would you like t-to go out for some dinner with m-me?”

“oh sure! i should go tell mirio and nejire” you’d say that with a smile, and it felt like he was going to pass away on the spot.

nejire and mirio were the ones the tell you that ‘no, tamaki doesn’t want to be friendly with you, because he wants to romantically date you.’

and it felt like forever when they were explaining how and why, while tamaki was sitting in the corner.

but thank GOD! because you like him too!

super hesitant on resting on your chest, i mean,, to him, it looked like the nicest pillow for the deepest sleep! but he wasn’t sure if that’d be okay

because no!! to!! taking!! advantage!! of!! Y/N’s!! kindness!!

speaking of that, despite the fact that he’s socially awkward— he will not hesitate on defending you from any haters!

like, when people say that “tamaki and Y/N are such an awkward couple. tamaki’s super awkward, it looks like there’s nothing in Y/N’s brain. maybe she’s brainless”

because how dare they. not everyone is book smart— but that doesn’t give people the right to call you stupid!

“Y/N’s not brainless! she’s kind, helpful, and the sweetest p-person i have ever met. i suggest you take that back!”

in short— it gives him heart palpitations just having to explain things to you, but at the end of the day, it’s all worth it, if he can be with you

»»————-　♡　————-««

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei, i only own the writing and i do not profit off of my hobby

do not plagiarize, reupload, translate, or use my works for audio readings without permission

[rin-itoshi]

mc’s departure | obey me

summary: how the brothers would react to MC returning to the human world after a year in the devildom

contains: fluff , angst , ?!!!!&;@;&:idk

♯ LUCIFER

he’s the one to see you off, reminding you of the many things he had taught you so that you’d never forget.

his pride is much too large to admit that he will miss you to death and that he loves you dearly.

after you’re gone, he’s gone for hours at a time, holed up in his room with as much as work as he can take on.

he overworks himself with the intention of getting rid of the heavy emotion on his heart.

everything reminds you of him, even the paper clip on his desk that you had once found under his bed.

he gets easily irritable, feeling rather empty now that you’ve gone and left him alone in this now quiet house.

barely leaves his room, only works.

never cries but gets quite emotional when he finds a belonging you left behind.

♯ MAMMON

he cried every single night up until your departure but never showed you that side of him once

after you left, he cried non-stop, not caring if he looked like a cry baby in front of his brother’s who watched him with pitiful eyes.

once his eyes dried up, he soon never returned home as he partied all day and night.

he forced himself to attend parties after parties in order to forget about you.

it never works because everything reminds him of you.

sometimes he sits in his car and just stares into space, wondering what you’re doing now that you’re back on earth.

literally cannot stand the mention of you or your name or he may break down.

pretends to be okay but can’t go a day without getting upset about your absence.

money soon becomes pointless when he realizes no amount of cash will bring you back to the house of lamentation.

♯ LEVIATHAN

curled up in his bath tub and cried himself to sleep.

stopped leaving his room in general, continuously playing games all day and night.

couldn’t look at his ruri-chan figures because they somehow reminded him of you and how much you used to admire them with him.

every inch of his room has your touch on it and it makes his heart ache painfully.

struggles to attend online school but manages to make it through the day by zoning out in class.

claims he doesn’t care about a normie like you but genuinely misses you

sends you messages, forgetting you can no longer contact him without your D.D.D

writes about how much he misses you on his blog fully aware you’ll never see it.

♯ SATAN

reading. that’s all he does.

he hides in his room and reads every single book he has stacked up along his room, even rereading them if he finished everything.

uses books to get his mind off of you—or more so the lack of you.

will sometimes get excited about a stray cat he sees but stops himself when he realizes he can’t tell you because you aren’t here.

gets angry. a lot.

the smallest things set him off and he can longer feign a smile when he hears your name or anything related to you.

he misses you so much that he wants to tear out his hair and rip apart all these book page by page.

his room is in shambles and he can’t seem to think straight anymore.

♯ ASMODEUS

loses his interest in everything.

forgets his skin care routine and lets himself go without caring about it.

forces himself to go to parties and tries to sleep with someone to feel better but when it fails, he stops sleeping around in general.

like mammon, he doesn’t come home often to avoid seeing the house he had lived in with you happily.

cannot forget about you no matter what he does, and that frustrates him the most.

wishes he had done something to stop you or at least slept beside you one last time.

neglects himself for a while.

♯ BEELZEBUB

poor bby isn’t hungry for once.

can’t seem to eat now that you’re not sitting beside him, giggling about something he had said.

spends a lot of his time doing weight training and exercising to get his mind off of you.

misses all the meals you used to make on the nights you were in charge of cooking.

sometimes forgets you’re not around whenever he’s about to go downstairs to eat dinner.

clings to belphie in hopes to fill the gap in his heart.

accidentally broke down your room door in an angry fit when your absence finally set in.

♯ BELPHEGOR

either he sleeps even more or somehow gets less sleep.

no matter what, he feels sluggish and blank.

locks himself in the attic, almost as if he was never released in the first place.

even though he hated humans, your absence affected him the most after he had grown to love you as a human.

nearly went demon mode on diavolo when he found out that you were being sent back to the human world.

partially wishes he never met you but cherishes his memories with you too much to ever wish for that wholeheartedly.

sleeps in your bed often to hold onto your lingering scent that was fading quickly.

complains to beel that you were nothing but a stupid human who turns their backs on demons like them, but he never means anything he says.

“Why is it so quiet in here?” Diavolo asks as he opens the front door of the House of Lamentation with Barbatos at his side. The man’s golden eyes scanned the entry hall, noticing how it was so eerily dark and quiet that it almost felt like something out of a horror movie. It felt like no one had lived here in over two thousand years. “Hello?”

Upon receiving message from Diavolo, everyone had exited their rooms for the first time in a while, looking like they were dragged through the mud. The state they were in made Diavolo jump with surprise, shocked to find that even Lucifer looked like he was ill. “What happened to you guys?!”

“What is it that you need, Lord Diavolo?” Lucifer asked as he ran a hand through his hair to compose himself a bit in front of the red haired man. “If is nothing important, may I kindly ask you to leave and return another time?”

Diavolo sighed, shaking his head lightly as he crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t know what’s up with you guys, but I brought everyone’s favorite person along with me so sing your praises now!”

Mammon huffed, “If ya’ talking about that butler of yours, ain’t nobody care right now! We got bigger things to worry about!”

Barbatos simply smiled, taking no offense to the sly insult thrown his way.

Diavolo cocked a brow in confusion. “What? Of course not! It’s-“

The person stepped out from behind Diavolo, catching the attention of every single male in the room. The seven brother’s choked, staring at the one person they had longed for these past few days.

“[y/n]!” They shouted in unison, practically flying down the stairs to get to you. Mammon was the first to reach you, wrapping his arms around your entire body as he tackled you to the floor. The other brother’s climbed on top of you two, hugging you so tightly that you feared this would be where you’d die. “You’re back!”

Diavolo chuckled boisterously. “This is amusing! You lot are acting like you didn’t know they’d return today!” His laugh came to an abrupt stop when he saw the flat expressions coming from each and every brother. “Oh- Did I not inform you?”

“Obviously you didn’t.” Belphegor scoffed with a roll of the eyes, burying his face in the crook of your neck to inhale your scent. “[y/n]...”

“Ya can’t ever leave again! I’ll seriously get angry at ya if this happens again! Ya either go to the human world with me or ya don’t go at all!” Mammon snapped, cupping your cheeks while getting dangerously close to your face to yell at you.

“I’ll severely punish you if you ever leave this manor without giving me a heads up as to where you’re off to. You’re not just an exchange student anymore. You’re special.” Lucifer explained, a panicked glint in his tired eyes as he reached out to pat your head gently with his gloved hand.

Satan sighed, pressing his forehead against your back. “If you leave again, I don’t know if I’ll be able to control my emotions, so don’t leave.”

The avatar of lust whined loudly, “my beautiful self can’t handle a life without you! Don’t ever go anywhere without me again!” He clutched onto her waist tightly.

“Don’t... Don’t go anywhere.” Leviathan said with a sad frown on his lips as he held your hand, bringing it up to rest against his cheek. “It’s so empty without you.”

“Let’s eat dinner together, [y/n].” Beel suggested, his voice full of emotions as he drooled at the thought of dinner with you.

A million emotions ran through your veins as you sat there, basking in the warmth of their touch. It was overwhelming to receive so much love all at once but it was amazing.

A smile slowly crept onto your lips as you leaned into their touch, enjoying the way they clung to you as if you’d disappear any moment now. “I missed you guys, too.”

“What a lovely reunion!” Diavolo exclaimed happily, snapping a view blurry photos on his D.D.D to send to the group chat later.

After the heartfelt moment, they quickly disappeared upstairs to fix up their appearance before rushing downstairs to the kitchen where you stood. They clung to you like bugs to a light, hounding you about your sudden departure, only to find out that you had gone up there with Diavolo and Barbatos to help the man experience human world activities he had never gotten to try before. Diavolo was sure he had told them that but seeing as they were genuinely distressed, he assumed the message never reached.

Even though they were beyond pissed with Diavolo and his carelessness, they were just glad you were back. Them being here with you really was their idea of a perfect life.

a/n: UH YEA K GOODNIGHT

[etherealeeknow]

the fwb rules

• rated m for mature

• pairing: fwb!hyunjin x fem!reader

• wc: 4.559

• tw: explicit language, light characterization of an insecure reader, unprotected piv sex (stay safe, lovelies!), fingering & oral (f), nipple play, cream pie— i think that’s all, please do tell me if you find more c:

• note: last time i said long fic isn’t my forte and this time i’ll still say the same hahahahaha. but still, i hope i don’t disappoint 🥺 please kindly note that english isn’t my first language. therefore, i apologize for any mistakes. feedbacks are always appreciated because i’d love to grow! thank you for waiting and enjoy 💞 pretty banner made by my bestie!! ilysm 😽😽😽

• tag list: @charlieshelves @es-kay-zee @formidxble @oh-my-sparkle @bobateastay @http-hyxnjxn @lyralurexrattle @hyunsluvv @healinghyunjin @sailorhyunjinz

—

what happened to the rules?

it didn’t start off like this. you can’t remember when exactly you started wondering about the five word question. all you know is that you were one bite away from gobbling a spoonful of jisung’s ice cream when it struck you: since when did you and hyunjin stop going by the rules? he’s been occasionally texting you out of the blue lately just to know what you’re up to, and today he even asked you to stay the night at his, and as much as you want to believe they’re all normal, again, it didn’t start off like this. from the beginning, you and hyunjin have come up with three rules so your relationship can work: one, be very casual. two, no strings attached. three, no fucks given outside of the, well, literal fucking. but look at you now, lying naked and out of breath under his blanket while facing his ceiling, driving yourself insane over the haunted question. you have to get it off your chest somehow, but how? 

“hey, why so serious?” asks the culprit behind your overthinking, causing you to jump slightly over his sudden appearance and your hands instinctively pull up the blanket to cover your naked chest, which as a result, makes him chuckle. cute. “here. it’s my cousin’s,” adds the topless man as he sits on the edge of the bed and hands you a white shirt that even under the dim light, you can already tell won’t fit you.

“your cousin? the model? hyunjin, she’s tiny,” you utter, hands still gripping onto the blanket. “i’m—“

“you,” he cuts you off, placing a hand on top of yours while carefully glancing at you to make sure you there aren’t any signs of discomfort. “are fine, y/n. now hurry up. i’m sleepy,” he adds before letting go, leaving behind a lingering warmth on your knuckles.

nodding, you turn your back on him to change, and the room falls silent, causing you to hear how fast your heart is thumping even more than it should have. is it because you had too much coffee this morning? or it can probably be because the shirt is too tight that it’s cutting off your air circulation, right? right, of course. you tell yourself because as much as you dislike both reasons, they are still far better than having hyunjin as the cause.

once you’re done, hyunjin already has his back lying against the bedhead, his head tilting slightly to the side, avoiding the light coming from the night lamp on the bedside table, while his eyes bore deeply into yours. unbothered that he’s been caught staring, he averts his gaze downwards till they reach your chest and spot how your nipples are sticking out through the thin fabric.

“see? it fits you just fine,” he says, turning his vision back to your face as he opens his arms and motions them at you, only to have you remain in the same position with your increasing heartbeat.

“aren’t you gonna, uh, wear something?”

instead of a proper answer, all you get is his laugh—hyunjin’s contagious laugh that usually always succeeds in making you laugh too. but today hits differently. has his laugh always sounded this lighthearted before? no matter what the answer is, one thing for sure is that despite how sweet hwang hyunjin and his laugh are, they have never made your cheeks burn like this before, and this is forbidden. it’s against the rules.

“an hour ago we were naked while sucking each other’s face, y/n,” he finally answers after a while. “besides, i always sleep like this. now, come on,” he adds, repeating the same gesture, except this time his hands are open wider, eager to have you near him again because the space around him is starting to make him feel lonely.

complying with him, you fall into his embrace and hyunjin immediately lets his hands travel to the exact places of where they want to be—one around your head and the other around your waist. despite the room turning less cold with his warmth directly passing onto you, your heart and cheeks conditions remain the same especially since you can hear how hyunjin’s heartbeats are beating just as fast as yours when he lets you lay your head on his chest.

“hyunjin,” you call out, hands fiddling with the collar of your shirt.

“y/n,” he replies, replacing the collar with his fingers instead, intertwining them with yours.

what happened to the rules?

“do... do fwb do these?” you ask, the bravery in you finally decide to show up, even just for a little.

“do this?” he asks back while squeezing your hand with all his might, as if he’s nervous.

no. not ‘this’, but ‘these’. not only the hand grabbing, but also the fact that he asked you to stay the night, that he’s cuddling you to sleep, and that you’ve been getting unusual symptoms over them until this very moment.

“yes, this,” you nod and hyunjin becomes muted, but his heartbeats are growing louder, and his grip on you has become tighter.

after what feels like forever, he whispers, voice slightly cracking, and hands getting a little colder, “yes. yes, they do.”

then the two of you become muted, but both heartbeats keep growing louder, and everything stays that way until sleep eventually takes over.

—

as a homebody, you’ve always against the idea of sleepovers. you believe home is the sweetest place and your own bed is the comfiest even when your mattress is older than a decade and your favorite plushie has had too many holes here and there. but waking up in hyunjin’s bed has broken your stigma—never in your whole life that you’d have thought someone else’s bed can provide you twice the comfort.

“looks like someone had a good sleep,” chirps jisung as he sits beside you, causing you to wipe off the smile on your face before going back to your laptop.

“wow suddenly my best friend’s a psychic?”

“hey, that’d actually make a great drama title!” he exclaims and you roll your eyes. “please do spill the tea though. what happened?” he adds.

“what happened?” you ask back, eyes still on the screen, but the corner of your lips are on the verge of breaking into the smile, knowing full well he’ll complain—which he does by lamely calling you a meanie.

laughing, you tell him nothing happened, but the way he rolls his eyes is a sign he’s not taking any of your bullshit. you are telling the truth though. besides spending the night with each other, nothing really happened, right? it was just another casual fucking session. yes, it was amazing, but that’s no news for jisung. the guy’s practically your wingman—setting you up with hyunjin was his idea because he believes you should, “live your life. have that dreamy college sex orelse you’ll regret it like my old man changbin!”

right on cue, a notification popped out on your big screen, and the sender’s name makes your heart pop too.

“aha, see!” jisung points at it. “y/n, where are you?” he reads out loud, earning yourselves all the eyes from every other student in class.

“oh my god, jisung. shut up!” right when you’re about to log out from the chat app, hyunjin sends another one.

“can i call you?” jisung reads once more and you’re only one second away from smacking his head, but your vibrating phone holds you back.

shooting jisung a glare, you make sure to close your laptop before leaving the class, answering hyunjin’s call even when you’re still half way through the door. right when you’re about to greet him hello, hyunjin beats you to it—his voice a bit raspy, but the softness in his tone still lies within, and it creates endless questions in your mind.

has he just woken up? so is this how he sounds in the morning? why is he calling?

and the list goes on because this isn’t like hyunjin at all. sure, he’s not validating the rules, but he’s breaking his character despite already alarming you to anticipate morning booty calls from him at times. he’s never actually done that though. 

“hi,” you reply, startling yourself with how small your voice came out.

“you left,” says hyunjin and you can hear him sighing from the other line, which somehow causes a slight pang in your heart, wondering if perhaps he is disappointed. “can you come back? wait, actually, let me go to you instead.” he says and you can hear the rustling sounds coming from his side.

“hyunjin, i have class. that’s why i left. i—” should you apologize? but why should you? casual, no strings attached, and no fucks given, remember? “i’m sorry.”

“oh.” hyunjin stops on his track before plopping back down onto the bed, smiling. “i’ll pick you up after class then. when will you finish?”

unconsciously, a smile creeps up your face too, but the realization hits you right after, then followed by the five word question, and you know—you know this is your guts telling you that now’s the time to ask him about it, but your heart hates confrontation. plus, wouldn’t it be rude to reply to someone else’s question with a question? “hyunjin, are you, uh, horny?”

just like yesterday, hyunjin laughs, and with the raspiness in his voice still present, he doesn’t fail to make you laugh along, but at the same time waking the butterflies in your stomach and makes you rethink your decision. mayhaps, you should’ve left him a note or told him that you’ll leave early in the morning; or even, you should’ve ditched classes today and stayed so when he wakes up, you can get him a glass of water, not leaving the boy uncared for like this. but who are you to do so? 

“isn’t it normal for a guy to have a morning wood?” he jokes before quickly adding that he’s not horny. “i just want to see you so let me go get you.”

pressing your lips together, you contemplate on whether you should let him. if you do, won’t you be turning whatever the two of you have right now into something far more complicated? but it’s only until hyunjin adds a desperate “please?” that all of your dilemma disappears, as if you’re being cast into his spell—“okay.”

—

while heading to the gate, you have the biggest urge to book a massage appointment. dodging jisung’s questions and running away from him after the first period was draining, but having to spend the day running back and forth between two buildings because thinking that volunteering as the lecturers’ teaching assistant was draining on a whole new level. other than feeling like your legs are gonna come off, your mind also feels like it’s gonna blow off—you can’t stop recalling all the things you need to start working on as soon as possible, but stepping into hyunjin’s car turns everything to 180 degrees.

you’d like to think that it’s because of the faint lavender aroma coming from his car freshener along with the heavenly cool air conditioner, but no. you know full well it’s because of the way hyunjin’s smile lit up, his eyes disappear into two small crescent moons, and his blonde hair which is becoming one with the warm orange sky that brings peace to your heart.

“hi,” he breathes out the moment you close the door, and you do the same except for looking at him, which causes hyunjin to furrow his eyebrows while speeding away.

the way home is silent, just the way you like it, but you know full well that it’s not hyunjin’s cup of tea. he doesn’t need to say it, his action is showing it all as he’s been fidgeting non stop, wiping his sweaty palm along his jeans while occasionally licking his plump lips. hyunjin’s a very vocal person. he’s talkative and loud—including in bed. you press your warm cheeks over the realization of your own thoughts, embarrassed. you can’t possibly suspect hyunjin for being horny in the morning when you yourself are being like this in the afternoon. it’s uncalled for.

noticing you from the corner of his eye, hyunjin calls out, asking you if there’s anything wrong, totally catching you off guard. what should you say? lying is not your forte, but being honest clearly isn’t the best option right now, at least, not before you shower and appear presentable in front of him—but wait, since when did that matter so much? a few months ago, you even fucked after you ran a marathon.

“y/n?” calls hyunjin for the second time.

“look, hyunjin, really, it’s okay if you’re horny. you can pull over and i can, uh, relieve you and i can just take the bus home after,” you spit out shamelessly while looking at him straight in the eyes, eager to get far away from hyunjin as fast as possible before you go out of your mind.

just like the night before, hyunjin laughs. and just like the night before, his laugh hits differently and it does nothing other than burning your already burnt cheeks for the worse.

“i swear to god, y/n, i’m not horny. i genuinely want to take you home. nothing more,” explains hyunjin, head straight at the road but eyes repeatedly stealing glances at you. “and nothing less,” he adds, voice barely audible but you caught it.

“o— oh.” is all you manage to respond before the ride quickly turns quiet and hyunjin’s hands begin fidgeting again, all the while you’re trying to decode what he has just said—what does he mean by genuinely wanting to take you home? do fwb do this too? what happened to no fucks given?—and it goes on until hyunjin hits the break in front of your old apartment building.

“we’re here,” says hyunjin, breaking the silence by unlocking the car door.

“we’re here,” you repeat after him, already opening the door and setting a foot out. “uh, thank you.”

“don’t mention it.” hyunjin shoots you his signature smile the moment you lower yourself to meet his eye level from outside the car; this time, you have no choice but to fall under his spell.

“hey, uh, you wanna come in?” you ask, biting your lower lip as a way to punish yourself for being so indecisive. one second you want to run away from him and the next second you want to be near him. come on, get a grip.

as if the punishment isn’t enough, hyunjin declines your offer, all while chuckling with his head thrown back. “for the third time, y/n. i’m not horny. go in and rest up.” 

“if you say so.” you shrug, giving him a small smile before turning around, making sure not to look back, only to fail when you hear the engine driving away.

—

you can’t quite tell—no, you can’t tell. you don’t get it. there’s an unexplainable empty space in your heart that is caused by hyunjin’s rejection. is it because you’re just not used to see him without having to fuck him? or is it because you’re hurt over the fact that he’s not in the mood to touch you? is it because of last night? is he finally sick of your flaws? things would probably be different if you had retouched your makeup or at least combed your hair before seeing him, would they? either way, you’re fully aware you shouldn’t be torn over your friend with benefits, yet your aching heart says otherwise.

and so when the doorbell rings only a few seconds after you get in and the figure you see through the peephole is no other than the man in question, you spare no time to swing the door open. hyunjin, in return, spares no time to lock his lips with yours right after he utters a brief apology. just like the way hyunjin sneaks his playful hands down your ass, you sneak your tongue in his mouth, and your action makes him smile into the kiss as he leads you back into the room and kicks the door shut with his long legs.

the way to your bedroom is actually pretty short, but with your tongues moving in sync, bodies pressing—glued, even, and eyes continuously closing in pleasure, the short way to your bedroom consists of endless stumbling, tripping, and bumping the door. once inside, you break the kiss and are about to undress yourself when hyunjin beats you to it, settling you down on the bed as he begins taking off your attire one by one ever so effortlessly. and in just a matter of seconds, his lips are back on yours again, floral scented hair falling and brushing against your cheeks, leaving you no time to wonder over the fact that it’s the first time hyunjin has ever undressed you. 

as the kiss continues, you can feel yourself gushing more and more that you start grinding on him mindlessly, needing to feel more than just his bulge poking you. your hands leave his blonde strands to tug on his hoodie, only to have him stop you—one hand around your grip and the other rests on your hip.

“what do you think you’re doing?”

“need you. need to feel you,” you mumble, desperation so visible through your cracked voice. 

“what happened to the girl who was all flustered to sleep with me last night just because i was shirtless?”

autumn nights aren’t supposed to be hot, but hyunjin has proven he has the power to make the impossible happen just with his words and mocking smirk. but the rising heat on your cheeks is nothing compared to the emptiness you feel below, clenching around nothing surely isn’t the best feeling.

“please, jinnie,” you whine, tugging on his hoodie once more, hips moving against his hold.

“fuck.” is all he manages to say before getting off the bed to disrobe himself—hoodie and track pants thrown across the room, now showcasing his toned body and thighs altogether as he hovers over you.

“please take this off too. it looks suffocating,” you say, index finger running faintly through the bulge forming from his tight boxer, making it stand up even more and hyunjin has no choice but to obey you. “put your hair up too please,” you add just when he’s about to dive right back in, and again, your wish is his command.

biting to pull off his hair tie from his wrist, hyunjin smoothly ties his hair back and you’re only given a few seconds to admire his feature before his plump lips coming in contact with your hardened nipple while he toys with the other using his fingers—rubbing and pinching, making your breath hitch over the sensation, fingers digging into his bare shoulders because you don’t want to mess up his hair, and hyunjin’s low grunts pretty much indicate he’s loving it.

“more, please. give me m—”

hyunjin retreats his hand and tongue away from your breast, moving them to your naked pussy,  drawing circles on your outer labia with his middle finger. he teases you just enough and quickly slides in his digit and at the same time sucks on your clit right before you’re about to complain, making you tingle from head to toe.

“you hear that?” he asks, voice muffled, the effect of being too tongue tied from licking every part of your heat, but finger working its magic perfectly, creating loud wet noises from your fluid. “drenched. my pretty y/n is drenched,” says hyunjin, and as much as you want to comment on him for the pet name, you’re too caught up on how his lips vibrate against you the moment he starts palming himself with his unoccupied hand. if he keeps it up, you know you would come undone there and then, and you don’t want that—not yet. so you ask him to stop and he instantly does as told.

“what’s wrong? did i hurt you?” there’s fear written across his expression and heard from his tone, but you’d like to believe your eyes and lips are just playing tricks on you.

“n— no. i just,” you pause to avoid his gazes, but something within you pulls your attention back on him. “i wanna cum with you inside me,” you confess, voice barely audible due to embarrassment; all this time, it’s always been hyunjin to say such things, but perhaps, all the strange tension lately has finally gotten the best of you. you hear him mutter a low “fuck” while his pupils shakes for a brief moment before they somehow appear a shade darker. licking his lower lip, hyunjin pulls you by your legs and rests them on his shoulders, and proceeds to align his tip with your entrance, once again teasing your throbbing core.

the moment you whine is the moment hyunjin pushes himself inside ever so gently, but the stretching still has you throwing your head back, while hyunjin letting our airy moans upon your walls clenching around him. none of you can tell how it’s possible for your vagina to remain so tight after all the countless fucking session for the past half year, but hyunjin doesn’t find that troubling. in fact, he lives for that and it shows from the way his eyes roll to the back of his head as he begins thrusting in and out of you—slowly but steady, veiny hands secured on your hips, vision goes back and forth from your half-lidded eyes to your parted lips.

hyunjin leans down to kiss you for a couple of seconds, and when he lets go, he quickens his pace—leaning down once more so his length can go deeper in you, hitting your g-spot. at that very moment, you mentally praise yourself for placing the bedroom mirror right across the bed. it presents you with the magnificent view of hyunjin’s rounded, firm ass bouncing rhythmically whenever he snaps his hips, and placing your hands around them, squeezing them, nearly makes you drool over the sight. with hyunjin constant thrusts, the familiar knot in your abdomen starts to bubble up.

“oh my god,” the two of you whimper in unison as hyunjin begins to lose his tempo, moves also grow sloppy, but never once misses your spot.

“y/n, i— ah— i’m so close. fuck,” he breathes out, sweat forming on his forehead, wetting his baby hair down to his neck and chest, and you can only drool helplessly at the sight.

“me too. please cum inside me, cum with me, hyunjin, please, please,” you beg, voice a pitch higher, almost sounds like you strain your throat, and it stays the same. when you feel hyunjin twitch inside you, your hands automatically reach for the bed sheet again, but it only lasts for a second before they’re being taken by hyunjin’s own hands—he has never done this. while intertwining your fingers, his cock twitches again and his eyes roll to the back of his head, jaw falls open as he calls out your name—you naturally do the same, fingers pressing flat against his white knuckles

“hyu—”

“cum, baby,” he cuts you off, averting his hazy eyes on you, and that’s all it takes for you to break—your orgasm washes over you like waves and you cum undone around hyunjin, shaking and mewling altogether while feel the wet coldness around your inner thigh. hyunjin follows right after, shooting his hot cement inside of you; the man can no longer keep his eyes open as he buries his face on the crook of your neck, his choked moans bring music right to your ear all a while his hot breaths bring goosebumps to your unrecovered body.

after riding out your highs, none of you move. hyunjin stays on top of you, his chest rises and falls according to your hard breathing. somehow, it’s calming you down, but it shouldn’t.

“hyunjin, you’re heavy.”

“oh, sorry,” he chuckles and even without looking, you can tell his eyes are smiling too. with his remaining strength, hyunjin pushes himself up and rests on your thighs to pull his dick out of you, momentarily admiring the mixture of his juice and yours dripping down your cunt before fixing his eyes on you to study your face—also something he has never done before. 

“i’m sorry,” he mutters a few moments later, eyes now on you.

tilting your head, you sit up, resting your upper body with your hands on the bed. “all of a sudden? i came? you always make me feel good.”

“that’s what i’m sorry about. i— i didn’t mean to— i mean, i—”

you reach out to him, gently patting his thigh. “hyunjin, calm down. this isn’t like you,” you whisper the last sentence, knowing that perhaps, now’s the time to talk things out, to stop whatever is going on, and go back to how things are used to be, maybe? your heart’s just been restless for too long and apparently, hyunjin seems to be in a similar situation too.

“i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to keep using you like this. i genuinely meant what i said. i only wanted to take you home, but we ended up here and—”

“isn’t that what fwb do?” you pull your hand off his thigh, and a frown painted across his face as if he’s questioning your question. “that’s what we agreed on. we have our fwb rules, remember?”

“one, be very casual. two, no strings attached. three, no fucks given outside of the, well, literal fucking,” says hyunjin, proving he has memorized every words to the back of his mind.

nodding, you carefully bring back your hand to his thigh, repeating the same movement you did before. “exactly. so you don’t have to be sorry. don’t worry, i’m not feeling used at all.” you end it with a smile.

hyunjin mirrors you, he smiles too; his eyes fall to where your hand is. “but what if i’m breaking them? the rules,” asks the boy whose cold hand is now on top of your warm one. “what if i like you?” his eyes find their way back to you, and that’s when you know. the difference between your temperatures; the difference between your smile and his—the sadness that lies within.

that’s when you understand. everything finally makes sense; every one of hyunjin’s unusual acts. the constant texts and calls, the undressing, the pet names, the facial expression, the hand holding.

what happened to the rules? feelings. that’s what happened. to hyunjin, it’s his feelings over the rules.

but you, what about you? the butterflies, the irregular increasing heartbeats, the flushing cheeks, the overthinking, the disappointment at some point.

“y/n,” hyunjin calls out and you don’t get to get back to him because he’s already an inch away from you, momentarily eyeing your lips before he closes the distance. once again, his blonde hair falls down, brushing against his cheek before meeting yours and it tickles you, but not in the same way as how his kiss tickles your heart; giddy.

what happened to the rules? unwanted feelings. that’s what happened. to you, it’s the unwanted feelings against the rules. and for now, the unwanted feelings are too strong for you to push him away, so you pull him close instead. for now.

—

gen’s masterlist

repeating this!! special note: HUGE THANK YOU for my awesome bestie for the banner 🥺💞💞 ily, bish!! thank you for being my beta reader too 😽😽😽

[soobmint]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 Until his voice was gone.

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

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

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

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

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

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

 You were mostly doing it for the extra credit points.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 -

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “A Midsummer Night’s Dream.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 -

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “What’s wrong with that?”

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

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

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

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

 “You’re exaggerating.”

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

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

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

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

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

 -

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “Yeah, it’s fine—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “Where should we set them?” He asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “Well, what’s the issue then?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 -

 THE WORLD ALWAYS SEEMED COLDER WHEN YOU WERE ALONE.

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

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

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

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

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

 “What do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “Should we run away?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 -

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

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

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

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

 The singing stopped. “Y/N?”

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

 “Are you awake?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “What did I say?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “Did you try calling Yeonjun again?”

 “Yep. No answer.”

 “Taehyun?”

 “Nothing.”

 “The professor?”

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

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

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

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

 “Hey, we said we were starting over.”

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

 “What are you doing?” You asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “It was—”

 “It was real pretty, kid.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 -

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

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

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

 You: Make it 5. I’ll be waiting.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “That does not make me feel any better.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “Yeah, you said you didn’t.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “Y/N.”

 “Hm?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 -

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “How about Beomgyu?”

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

“When did you get there?” You asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “Is he coming?” Yeonjun asked.

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

 “That won’t be necessary.��

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 It was your soulmates voice.

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

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

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

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

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

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

 Beomgyu was your soulmate.

 Beomgyu was your soulmate, and he was alive.

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

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

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

 “Yes, Beomgyu. I do remember you.”

 “Y/N!”

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

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

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

 “Knew what?”

 “That you’re my soulmate.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “Should we run away?” He asked.

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

[robininthelabyrinth]

This one's gonna take two asks, I'm incapable of making it more succinct. In Accurate description NHS said "I’m taking you back with me to the Nie sect when all this is over. If your parents want you back, they can come ask nicely.” Could we get that AU? And the Jiangs HAVE to ask nicely, because with the war on the horizon they can't risk alienating the Nies, but they are so bad at it? NHS's half assed plan to poach JC gets more and more solid the longer he has to watch this train wreck.(1/2)

How hard can it be to love your own flesh and blood? Even NMJ has stopped admonishing him for wanting to poach another sect's heir. What a political nightmare that would be. But JC is so relaxed with NHS's birds? And keeping up longer and longer when training with da-ge? And smiling more? And JYL said, she's never seen him so loose in the shoulders? NHS can make this work. JFM and YZY never valued JC anyway 

Part 2 of Accurate Description (necessary to read that first)

-

“Absolutely not,” was the first thing Nie Huaisang’s brother said when Nie Huaisang first raised the idea of kidnapping Jiang Cheng for his own good. “Absolutely fucking not.”

“Nie sect principle three,” Nie Huaisang said.

“Well, shit,” his brother said.

This was because Nie Huaisang’s brother is the best.

“I’ve gotten other people involved in this,” Nie Huaisang added helpfully.

“You’d better have,” his brother said. “I am not dealing with the fallout from this on my own.”

Nie Huaisang nodded happily. That was about what he’d expected.

A few moments later, his brother asked, “Why are we kidnapping him, anyway?”

-

“This is temporary,” Nie Mingjue said gruffly.

“Very temporary,” Jiang Cheng agreed, sounding stiff and awkward. “I don’t even know why I’m here.”

“You know exactly why you’re here,” Nie Huaisang objected. “I told you why!”

Jiang Cheng gave him a dirty look.

“Also I have no idea how da-ge got you here, but you’re staying,” Nie Huaisang said firmly. “For as long as it takes for your parents to show that they deserve you returning to them. You’re not getting a choice.”

Jiang Cheng’s face was turning red.

“That’s not the deal, Huaisang,” Nie Mingjue interjected. “Jiang Wanyin can return home at any time he wishes.”

Nie Huaisang glared, but his brother ignored him.

“He can also stay as long as he wishes,” he said, and this time it was Jiang Cheng’s turn to stare. “If you want others to respect him, you must first pay him the respect he deserves yourself. Now, I have to go, but Jiang Wanyin – know that our home is always open to you.”

He put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it, then ruffled Nie Huaisang’s hair, and left.

Jiang Cheng looked dazed.

Nie Huaisang smirked.

“…you said something about him giving out hugs?”

“Oh yeah,” Nie Huaisang said. “Great hugs.”

-

“I can’t believe you would betray me like this,” Nie Huaisang whined. “And after all I’ve done for you!”

“A little training’s not going to kill you,” Jiang Cheng said. “Come on already.”

“My brother put you up to this, didn’t he? You sold me out for a hug.”

“I sold you out for the opportunity to go on a proper night-hunt,” Jiang Cheng said. “Also, he said he was proud of the progress I’ve been making on my cultivation and sword training since I got here. And gave me a hug.”

Nie Huaisang grumbled but conceded that his brother was especially difficult to resist when he was in full big brother mode. If he wasn’t, Nie Huaisang wouldn’t have been nearly so willing to give up the neat new sword he’d found in the Xuanwu’s cave and store it down in their saber halls until his brother and Baxia could figure out how to suppress it - he hadn’t even realized it was full of resentful energy at first, and he still thought it was especially aesthetic.

“Besides, if you don’t practice something soon, he’ll come after you himself,” Jiang Cheng said. “Wouldn’t you rather train with me?”

“No. You’re just as crazy as he is.”

Jiang Cheng looked disturbingly complimented.

“I’ll come look at your birds later,” he offered.

“You’d do that anyway,” Nie Huaisang said. “You love my birds.”

Jiang Cheng did, too. Nearly as much as he loved all the feral cats that roamed the walls of the Unclean Realm, every single one of which seemed to have immediately pegged him as a soft touch and come nosing around for treats – Nie Huaisang had never seen Jiang Cheng look so calm and peaceful as when he had a cat under his palm.

It really put into perspective how stressed he looked the rest of the time.

“Oh, all right,” he groaned, and Jiang Cheng beamed. “Just know that I hate you.”

“Same to you, Nie-gongzi,” Jiang Cheng said, completely insincere. “Same to you.”

-

“You know, I’m surprised my parents haven’t shown up to demand me back yet,” Jiang Cheng said over lunch one day. “It’s not – it’s not a problem. It’s only – I thought – Mother at least –”

“Oh, they’re demanding all right,” Nie Huaisang sniggered.

“…Nie Huaisang, what have you done,” Jiang Cheng said.

“Conspired, that’s what,” Nie Mingjue said. “I don’t know if I should thank you for discovering my brother’s sole talent, namely for scheming and conspiracies, or to blame you for it, Wanyin – but you do have very loyal friends.”

Jiang Cheng blinked.

“Well, first your parents went to Lanling,” Nie Huaisang explained. “On account of Jin Zixuan and Mianmian very obviously sneaking food around and buying all sorts of things that you would like before smuggling them – very poorly and obviously, mind you – into Jinlin Tower, and of course they were also overheard talking about something that sounded an awful lot like ‘Wanyin’; everyone assumed they were hiding you. Turns out they weren’t, of course; it was just a stray dog they’d named something with similar tones. Not their fault everyone got the wrong idea!”

Jiang Cheng’s eye twitched.

“And then, of course, they went to Gusu, on account of Lan Wangji telling everyone you were his sworn brother –”

“His what?!”

“Well, close enough. On account of how you saved his life.”

“I did not!”

“I thought I heard something about how you carried him on your back as you fled from the Xuanwu’s cave and the Wen sect’s ambushes, when he was exhausted and could not walk,” Nie Mingjue said mildly, and Jiang Cheng spluttered. “Had I heard wrongly?”

“…well, no…but...”

“Of course, you weren’t at Gusu,” Nie Huaisang continued, ignoring them both. “Though there were some heavy implications for a little while that you’d gone off with Lan-gongzi –”

“Isn’t he missing?”

Nie Mingjue coughed and looked down at his plate.

“And none of you said anything?” Jiang Cheng asked, looking between them. “At any point? Did you just, what, not talk to them?”

“I have spoken with your parents several times since they have started looking for you,” Nie Mingjue said, and his voice was suddenly hot with roiling anger. “I have concluded that Huaisang had a point regarding the necessity of their learning how to ask for your return.”

Jiang Cheng blinked.

“Your parents are jerks,” Nie Huaisang volunteered. “And you deserve better.”

“Yes, thank you,” Jiang Cheng said, a little strangled. “I think I – got that.”

“Good.”

-

“It’s just, my jiejie –”

“Supports you being here. She sent you a care package. It’s in your room.”

“…Wei Wuxian –”

“Sent a note along with the package. Says to keep up the good work.”

“How did you even get something like that?!”

“I have my ways.”

-

Nie Huaisang was staring blankly at the wall when Jiang Cheng walked in and did a double take.

“Okay,” he said to Nie Mingjue, sitting patiently nearby with a letter in his hands. “You broke him. How?”

“He just discovered that he inadvertently saved a great deal of lives,” Nie Mingjue said. “As did you, by agreeing to come here.”

“I only agreed to come here because you lied and told me it was necessary to help defend my sect,” Jiang Cheng grumbled, clearly not meaning it.

Nie Huaisang let out a high-pitched and somewhat hysterical giggle.

“It was,” Nie MIngjue said solemnly, offering him the letter. “It appears that Wen Chao was given permission to attack and crush the Jiang sect, but has been delaying in anticipation of your return on account of wanting to deal with all of you at once. The delay allowed our spies time to discover his plans, and to carry warnings to your parents. They were thus able to fortify the Lotus Pier’s defenses against invasion, and to hold it off until aid could arrive – which they wouldn’t have managed if he’d attacked at once, as he would have if you’d been there.”

Jiang Cheng stared.

“Would you like to sit down and stare at the wall?” Nie Mingjue offered kindly.

“…yes please.”

-

“How’d you convince him to let me come here, anyway?” Jiang Cheng asked Nie Huaisang as he packed up his things. He was finally heading back to the Lotus Pier, albeit only long enough to collect soldiers and come back to join what they’d started calling the Sunshot Campaign – his parents had finally figured out where he was and sent word that had, in the view of the Nie, just barely qualified as sufficient to get some leeway.

Lan Wangji was waiting in the hallway to escort him there, and he’d sworn to Nie Huaisang that he would not allow either of Jiang Cheng’s parents to say anything untoward while they were there. He’d looked very serious while he said it, too, which pleased Nie Huaisang to no end and made Jiang Cheng look more than a bit nervous.

“You’re only asking that now?” Nie Huaisang asked, amused.

Jiang Cheng shrugged. “You going to tell me or not?”

“It was easy,” he said. “I just invoked Nie sect principle three.”

“…what’s that?”

“‘A fire burns all the same’,” Nie Huaisang said. “Variously interpreted as: ‘Treat your neighbor’s harm as your own’, ‘Do not stand idly by as your neighbor bleeds’, or ‘Indifference to evil is equivalent to evil’.”

Jiang Cheng stared.

“How about ‘if you see someone who needs you, you have an obligation to act’?”

Jiang Cheng blinked. “Okay,” he said. “And?”

“And what?”

“And what else did you say? You convinced him to literally kidnap the heir of another Great Sect; I can’t believe that you accomplished that simply by saying ‘hey principle three applies here, let’s do this’.”

“Maybe I did,” Nie Huaisang sniffed.

Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes. “Fine, keep your secrets. I’ll get them out of you one day.”

“Maybe you will,” Nie Huaisang said.

-

“Da-ge,” Nie Huaisang said. “If I wanted to keep Jiang Cheng permanently, what principle would I have to invoke for that?”

“Nineteen.”

“Nineteen?” Nie Huaisang frowned. “But, da-ge, principle nineteen is the one about marriage – oooooooh.”

[ms-starflower]

Spook-tober Day 1 — Decorating

@maribat-october-rarepairs

So, technically, it’s October 2nd for almost two hour here, but it’s probably still the 1rst somewhere, right? Well, I don’t care anyway.

It’s my first time writing for an event (Maribat or otherwise) and I wanted to write both prompts for Spook-tober - Maribat Month and the Maribat Rare Pairs Month, but didn’t have time to start writing before 11pm.

This one's for Spook-tober, though it could also qualify as rarepair since it's a Stephinette (is that the correct shop name???), because Steph is my Queen (Cass too, but I wanted Steph today). Though they don't interact (yet) but I think I’ll write a follow up for other days' prompt, maybe (day 9 and 21, I’m looking at you,).

Anyway, let’s start.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You sure you got the right address, miss?” The cab driver asked her with a skeptic expression. It would have been alright if the man hadn’t asked the same thing in at least twenty different ways during the ride.

“Yes, thank you Monsieur. I’m exactly where I wanted to be,” Marinette answered with a tight smile, like the twenty previous times. Giving him the money she owed him, she got out of the car to stand in front of the gigantic gate of Wayne’s Manor. The place was kind of intimidating.

Still hearing the car behind her when she reached the intercom, she turned toward it. The driver was shamelessly looking at her, probably waiting for her to get refused access.

“Are you waiting for something, sir?” She asked, tilting her head slightly.

“You’re gonna need a ride back, don’t ya? I’m already here, might as well,” he smiled at her with condescending amusement. Marinette was tempted to tell him that she would prefer to go back to the city on foot than to get into his car again. But her parents raised her better than that, so she only smiled politely.

“There is no need, sir, I really don’t know how long I’m going to stay here.”

“Yeah, right,” the man huffed, still staring at her.

Deciding to just ignore him, Marinette turned to push on the intercom’s only button. It took a minute before an elegant and accented voice responded.

“Hello, how may I help you?”

“Ah, hello sir. I’m Marinette, Jason asked me to come?”

“Indeed, Master Jason warned me to expect you.”

When the gate opened, Marinette made a point to turn around to smile and wave goodbye at the cab driver. She would cherish his dumbstruck expression for a long time.

Her victory was short lived, though, when she saw how long the march from the gate to the house was going to be. Jason better be on the brink of death. Or the world, she wasn’t picky.

When she finally got there, an old gentleman she thought might be Alfred was waiting for her.

“Miss Dupain-Cheng, I’m Alfred, the family’s butler, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” Alfred said with a kind smile and a nod.

“The pleasure is all mine, sir. And just Marinette is fine,” she told him kindly, walking into the house. “Jason is okay, right? He didn’t say why he wanted me here, and I have to admit that he got me worried.”

Jason had been determined to keep her as far away from his family as he could manage before, and the sudden change was really odd.

“I see,” Alfred said slowly, closing his eyes for a second. “Master Jason is alright, Miss Marinette, do not worry. He just… Well, why not let Master Jason explain the situation to you himself. If you would follow me.”

Marinette followed him for a couple minutes through a couple of corridors, before he opened the doors to… a battlefield.

She thought that, maybe, it was supposed to be a living room, but it was hard to say, under all those decorations. They were literally everywhere. Throwing on the couches, a couple of boxes were overturned in a corner, a couple of garlands of little cartoon ghosts hanging hazradly from the chandelier. It was a mess, but she could see that someone probably tried to… decorate? Maybe? It was a really bad job, though.

Jason and a man she assumed to be his brother were battling with a plastic pumpkin and a skeleton respectively, while two more men and a woman—probably also Jason’s siblings, she heard Bruce Wayne was kind of a serial adopter— were cheering on the sidelines and a brooding teenager was glaring at them. Everyone froze as soon as they realized that they weren’t alone anymore. Alfred only sighed, nodded at her before going back to where they came from.

“Hey! Pixie! Great, you’re here,” Jason exclaimed excitedly, letting go of the pumpkin he was shoving into his brother’s face and stauttered toward her.

“Jason, in the name of everything that’s holy, what the hell?” Marinette asked with a voice deceptively calm. She could see the woman and one of the men behind Jason wince at her tone. Good.

“Well, see, we wanna decorate the house for Halloween, now that it’s time—”

“Jason,” she interrupted incredulously. “We are in September!”

“Well, technically, it’s already October in Russia,” the man that had been fighting with Jason piped up.

“Yeah, what Timbers said,” Jason said with a serious nod while Marinette could only look at him in astonishment. “Anyway, Bruce said we can decorate all the room in the Manor like we wish if we can make this one presentable, without the help of Alfred. And I really want to make a cat theme for his bedroom, so I thought; hey, you know a designer…”

“I’m a fashion designer, Jason, not an interior designer!”

“Same difference, Pixie. You’re my only hope, all of them are hopeless in terms of good taste.”

Marinette pinched the bridge of her nose, ignoring the various protests from Jason’s sibling, before taking out her phone.

“So you proceeded to send me ‘Hey Pix,” she said, reading the message he sent her earlier with a bad imitation of his voice. “‘Need you at the manor asap, urgence lvl 3’ before ignoring me, making me think that the world was probably ending—”

“World ending is at least a lvl 5, Pix, come on,” Jason interrupted with an offended expression. She ignored him.

“—Forcing me to take a cab with a absolute jerk driver—”

“Why did you take a cab? You have a car!”

“Adrien took the car, he is visiting Chloé in New York. But that’s not the point. The point, Jason, is that all of that was because you needed me to help you decorate for a day that is literally in a month?”

“Hey, Halloween is a very important celebration,” Jason’s brother, the one that had been cheering the loudest, told her with a solemn expression.

“I’m French, I don’t care about Halloween,” she deadpanned.

“I’m sorry, what?” The one Jason had called Timbers, probably Tim Drake, looked pained at the very idea that someone could not be obsessed by Halloween.

“I mean, we used to make speciales and sales at the bakery, and I’ve been to a couple of costume parties, but we don’t really pay attention to Halloween until around the 25 of October.”

“That’s sacrilegious,” Jason said, and almost all the others agreed in a way or another.

“Maybe for you, Americans,” she told him with amusement. “But it doesn't change the fact that I’m not going to help you.”

What? Why?!” He exclaimed, his eyes widening.

“Because, one, I don’t have anything to gain from it,” she said, showing him one of her fingers before adding a second. “And two, do you know how long the walk between the cab and the door had been? And all of it just for decorations?”

“Aw, come on, Pix! Bruce is going to make Alfred judge, and I have projects for the cat theme!”

“There is nothing you can say that is going to make me change my—”

“Hey guys!” A cheerful voice suddenly interrupted her, the owner barging into the room like a whirlwind. The woman was slightly taller than her, with long blonde hair and blue eyes. She had a beautiful smile that brightened the room and Marinette could feel the hearts that were making their way in her eyes. The girl was cute. Uh oh. “You are decorating already?! Cool! Be right back, let me just grab my stuff!”

Then she was gone, and Marinette could only blink slowly, before turning back toward Jason.

“Alright, I’m in.”

“What? Why— Oh, no, no, no! You’re not going to crush on Steph—”

“Oh, her name is Steph? What a lovely name,” she mumbled, looking back in the direction she disappeared. “But if you don’t want my help, I can just ask for her number and let you fend for yourself with the decorations, you know.”

“Pixie!” Jason complained, making his sibling laugh or snicker at him.

~~~~~~~~~~

Fun fact: when Marinette says that France doesn't care about Halloween until around October 25th, I’m talking from personal experience. I don’t know if it’s the same in all of France, but I grew up in Paris’ region (It’s not Paris Paris, but it’s like, the places all around and we call it régions parisienne) and they don’t care about it. Where I live, the shops don’t start selling Halloween themed candy before, like a week (maybe two?? when they start early) before Halloween and the children rarely go trick or treating. (I lived in this house for ~five/six years, and I’ve never got a child knocking for candy on Halloween.)

Again, I’m not saying it was like that for everyone in France, maybe it was only my city, but I thought it funny to have this opposition between Marinette and the Batkids.

[hypmicdaydreams]

hi bae! idk if i requested this already ahaha (if i already requested this i'm so sorry!! i'm forgetful at times, i didn't mean to spam or anything) but can i request a hc of jyuto, samatoki, and dice's reaction who've seen their fem s/o took 5 creepy men down at once (the creepy men were all knocked out) ? (like their fem s/o who was waiting for them outside after work approached by some creepy men, and have no choice but to fight) thanks bae!! sorry if this is too confusing haha love lots!~ <3

Hey hey anon! I think I got your first request, but it's totally fine so dw. I myself am always forgetful, and tumblr does sometimes eat asks. You weren't spamming though, dw! Anyway, this was a fun request; I loved writing it! Thank you sm for the request, and I hope you enjoy 💕

𝗦𝗮𝗺𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗸𝗶, 𝗝𝘆𝘂𝘁𝗼, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗗𝗶𝗰𝗲 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 𝘀/𝗼 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲𝘀 𝗱𝗼𝘄𝗻 𝗮 𝗯𝘂𝗻𝗰𝗵 𝗼𝗳 𝗴𝘂𝘆𝘀 𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗹𝗲-𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗱𝗹𝘆

-pairings: samatoki aohitsugi x f!reader, jyuto iruma x f!reader, dice arisugawa x f!reader

-genre: fluff

Samatoki

he never did like it whenever you waited for him outside of his headquarters/base given how dangerous the area around could be since it was yakuza territory

samatoki did like the prospect of having his girlfriend wait for him to finish, wanting to walk with him hand-in-hand home; but your safety was of utmost importance, so he always couldn’t help but scold you each time he found you standing outside the entrance

and this time was no different for samatoki merely sighed when he saw that you had ignored him once more. well, at least you seemed safe, and the very first thing he saw after work was you, so he was content

but when a group of five or so unruly guys - supposedly from a rival gang - showed up, samatoki, of course, couldn’t help but get irritated and unconsciously pull you in closer, as if it’d help keep you safer

this was one of the reasons he didn’t like it whenever you waited for him all alone outside in the dark, knowing full well how this area was roaming with gang members and how practically anyone could walk up and cause problems for you

it wasn’t that samatoki thought that you were weak and couldn’t fend for yourself. simply put, he knew the ins and outs of the dirty tactics the yakuza used to get their way and how you stood no chance against them, and he didn’t want anything to happen to you, especially when he wasn’t there to protect you

he’s very clearly about to beat them up given by the angry look in his eyes, irritated that they even had the audacity to waltz into his territory and threaten him and, more importantly, you. samatoki was going to protect you from harm’s way

but before he had the chance to discard the cigarette he’d been smoking, samatoki saw you take them down so effortlessly, within the blink of an eye almost. the way you swept them off their feet (literally) and twisted their arms or even flipped them onto their backs; it was all so smooth, as if you’d done this a hundred times before

he couldn’t even do anything given how swift it all was, and within a few moments later, he was standing over the groaning bodies of the gang members that tried to jump you guys

“what the fuck??” was all he could mutter, though it was in more of an astonished sense, one in awe. samatoki had no idea that you knew how to fight, much less take down creeps that were taller than you in an instant

it was hot in a way too, he had to admit, and he couldn’t help the smirk that played on his lips. samatoki really had swollen up with pride at the sight of his cute girlfriend taking down a group all by herself. yep, that was his partner, the badass that could singlehandedly take down anyone bothering her

(i can totally see him pouting just a tiny bit at the fact that he hadn’t been the one to have protected you lol but his pride in you overshadowed that)

“you never told me you could do that”

“it never came up,” you shrugged, and all samatoki could respond with was a cocky smirk and a heartfelt “that’s my girl” (maybe the latter even made your heart skip a beat)

samatoki was always proud to have you as his partner, and that only skyrocketed after this incident. admittedly, he was cocky at the fact, and anytime anyone brought you up, he might have boasted about just how strong and amazing you were (he was just so proud)

afterwards, samatoki does feel a lot less hesitant about you visiting him, knowing that you could take down anyone that wanted to start anything within the blink of an eye. he really was simply so smug about it

Jyuto

nightly walks were quite the thing for you and jyuto, who was a bit of a night owl admittedly. there was nothing better than walking through the park underneath the streetlights hand-in-hand after a long, tiresome day at work

but given the recent rise in crime in the surrounding area, jyuto was somewhat more hesitant on going on such walks with you. he himself didn’t mind if he ran into any criminals given how he could easily defeat them with a mic, but when you were with him, it was a bit different

jyuto was sure you guys would be fine and he’d be able to protect you, but it was the thought of dragging you into a headache of a problem that bothered him. plus, given how important you were to him, jyuto didn’t want to jeopardize your safety

still, you insisted this one time, and jyuto found himself strolling through one of the more quiet parts of town with you at around two or so in the morning, quite enjoying it as well. there was something about the peace and stillness of the night and experiencing it with you

that was soon cut short, however, when a group of a few or so guys showed up, very clearly looking for trouble given the way they eyed the two of you (they seemed to be on some sort of substance, perhaps alcohol)

jyuto merely sighed, expecting that something of this sort would happen given how many run-ins he’s had as of late (his luck wasn’t necessarily the best). here he was, wanting to enjoy a nice evening, if it could be called that, with you; and yet, he was stuck in such a predicament. man, this really was a pain

he steps in front of you, signaling that he’d handle this on his own in a few seconds or so, and took out his own hypnosis microphone. jyuto wanted you to stay behind and keep safe while he dealt with the group, not wanting to potentially have you get hurt

before he could even do anything, however, you slipped out of jyuto’s view and single-handedly took all of them down, and i mean like ‘lying face down on the ground, unable to move’ down. they may have been unconscious as well

he’s honestly quite impressed at how quickly you took action and how smooth it all was. you didn’t hesitate in throwing a few punches or twisting their arm until they were on the ground. jyuto himself knew quite the few techniques given his training on having to deal with criminals, and he’s in awe at how well you seemed to execute them

jyuto is a bit speechless at first, but that quickly subsides and turns into a smirk afterwards. did he really just see you take down a group of thugs that quickly? yes, yes he did, and jyuto couldn’t be more proud

“well well well, what do we have here?”

he didn’t know that you were quite adequate in self-defense and/or fighting. it came as a surprise to him, finding out that his girlfriend was indeed a force to be reckoned with. it was certainly admirable, in more ways than one

it was pretty badass too, seeing you take them down without a sweat. he couldn’t help but be proud of you for it, knowing that his s/o was so strong. it was the type of pride that came when someone you loved did something so amazing, proud to know that it was you

(besides, you did just make his job easier lol. he quickly arrested them on charge of attempted assault or theft, even if he wasn’t on the clock)

definitely asks where you learned to do such a thing from, still in awe (he knew you were quite strong and amazing, but this incident increased that as well)’ though i can also see jyuto teasing you slightly, saying how he’s got to watch out around you before he found himself face down on the ground

but really, he’s just all around amazed at how you took the initiative and took them down in no time at all. you were just full of surprises

Dice

dating him was always quite the adventure given his escapades, meaning that you often found yourself in unsettling places or situations given dice’s need for excitement and rush of adrenaline

he always brought you to the strangest of places, ones that you hadn’t the slightest idea how he managed to stumble upon them in the first place. you never did know what to expect with him

and tonight was no different, having accompanied him on one of his gambling expeditions late at night to some shady place. you knew that dice went a bit overboard at times and practically had no regard for his own safety when he was caught up in the excitement, so you decided that you’d look out for him

besides, it was a nice (that was questionable) change of pace from your boring nights, and dice was rather excited to have you with him, so it did all work out in the end

that was soon cut short, however, as a group of five or so guys with a rather threatening aura approached the two of you, assuming that they didn’t take too kindly to the fact that dice had won something that night (no matter how small the prize may have been)

dice didn’t seem to be all too fazed by this, most likely used to such occurrences and danger, though it was easy to notice how he seemed to become rather protective of you given the way he pulled you in closer

sure, dice himself was used to such danger and all, but that was because he willingly put himself in such situations. when it came to those that he loved and cared for, he obviously didn’t want them to get hurt

besides, he did think that it was because of him that the two of you were in this position in the first place; so dice wanted to protect you from harm’s way

he wasn’t one that was quick to jump to his microphone and would rather try to disarm the situation (as bad as he may have been with that), but this time around, since you were also involved, dice really didn’t hesitate to pull it out

there really was no need, however, given how you took them all down so swiftly. dice didn’t even have time to blink before he found out that you had taken care of all of them within an instant

holy shit...that was so cool (and lowkey a bit hot)

he didn’t even have time to follow what you did or even knew what happened in the first place. one minute, dice was about to confront them, and the next, you were twisting their arms or kicking them so that they’d fall

it was all so quick to, as if you’ve been in this position before or even have practiced it hundreds of time. it was clear that you knew exactly what to do and where to hit them

immediately in awe, sparkles pretty much evident in his eyes, as he’s yelling and saying just how cool and badass that was. you just took down a group of guys all by yourself! with no help from him or a hypmic!! you were so strong

dice always did admire you, and he pretty much always shows it; and this time around was no exception. he’s asking you all sorts of questions, such as how you were able to do that or where you even learned it or what you even did in the first place, all in excitement. perhaps you could even teach him a thing or two

(man, he didn’t know that he also had his very own cute bodyguard when the two of you first began dating)

honestly, he’s also quite smug about it, the fact that his girlfriend was so strong and could take care of anyone single-handedly. and he’s not afraid to show it with the cocky smirk on his face. he was simply much too prideful about you

lowkey is still in amazement and probably will bring it up again from time-to-time as a fond memory. he’ll never let you forget about it, but that’s only because dice was so proud of you, and he wanted to show it

sure it may be flustering, but it was also quite cute in a way

[neko-rogers]

hey!! I’m not sure if your inbox is still open but I thought I’d send this just in case! what would you think abt a dark!peter who’s obsessed w s/o and offers to have her stay with him during like the stay-at-home pet of covid so she’s not alone then when it’s lifted he’s like lol you’re not leaving. sorry that’s kinda long and super specific. i absolutely love your writing though!!💗

Jamie All Over

words: 2,040 (no, i should be sorry bc this was chaotic)

tags: didn’t expect it to be this LONG, manipulative!peter parker, grooming, overprotectiveness, slight mentions of sex, don’t expect too much lmao its a headcanon

a/n: hi babe! i wasn’t entirely sure if you wanted this as a one shot (but if u do let me know!)

so you’re pretty unaware of every move peter is trying to do with you, you know? you were not really sure if it was a kind gesture, as the gentleman he seemed to be, or was it just a special treatment

ever since second year and until now as both of you were on your fourth year, he was consistent with his efforts

these moves were moments like when he would carry your books to your next class or confidently invite you to a study ‘date’ at the library after – often times he tells that his friends were invited, but would never show up later on

sometimes he would bring you lunch. you tried to turn it down kindly, but he insists that it was purposely packed as an extra for when he stays late around the university.

it was a lie though. anyone could tell by the way it was prepared looking very appetizing and tasted just as amazing at it was presented. 

and as peter had mentioned that he lived alone, you also assumed he was the one to make his meals. you were so sure he doesn’t pack for an extra and intentionally wants to impress you with his skills.

“hey, y/n!,” he calls, “look this eggroll has a cute design!”

he honestly was an epitome of a walking sunshine. his smile seemed so pure and you never felt any ill-intent for every gesture he had done for you

his friends seemed very welcoming the moment he introduced you to his group

you got along with ned who seemed to be just as joyful and funny as peter. meanwhile mj was a bit more of a tough cookie, nevertheless you both eventually got a long better than you expected

however, it came to one point wherein your own group of friends started being disheartened with your lack of communication

“you’ve been spending more time with that parker boy, huh?” “yeah, kinda?” “are you two like... dating?” “oh no! no... no... nooo!”

the moment they frowned at you was then that you realized and felt a little more guilty. you always remembered that friends were supposed to be friends despite the lack of time and effort, right?

somehow you tried to compensate for the lack of time with your friends. but every minute you spend felt more awkward than before

they weren’t sharing the same vibe with you and you were starting to question if it had been always like it – were you only adjusting to them?

you reached out for peter, considering that he became one of the closest and trusted people around the university. plus, he seemed to have genuinely great friends

“do you feel happy when you’re spending time with them?”

“well i used to but recently–”

“then you should stop being friends with them.”

you were upset for a second. the way he instantly told you that cutting ties with them would be the (only) option

he sounded serious on the other end of the line and you were just speechless for a moment. the dead air between lines was evident, but you didn’t know what to say

“sorry,” peter makes up, “i didn’t mean to sound too serious. i just don’t like people who are rude, especially to you.”

“oh, it’s fine. i totally get it.” you felt a batch of butterflies around your stomach. someone actually cared for you!!!

the moment you didn’t hesitate on losing your friendship with your past friends and moved on with joining peter’s group, things felt lighter.

somehow you felt more expressive than you realized. they were open to your ideas and thoughts, just as you were with them. you felt super comfortable and realized that you weren’t holding back on anything anymore

that’s why you had expected your winter break to be better than your past ones

everyone agreed to skate around the ice rink in rockefeller for christmas. along with it, also spending new year’s eve at the time square

news flash: you finally had the cliche new year’s eve kiss, with none other than peter parker!!! hooray!!!

for anyone who had common sense, your feelings for peter had accentuated. you weren’t denying it either, and the boy wasn’t oblivious to it too

he was just so irresistible and kind to you, like, all the time – to surreal, honestly

you felt and KNEW you were spoiled with peter (and his friends, who liked to spend time with you outside too, just not as much as him)

just as you were planning your spring break activities, it had to be postponed for another time

a lockdown had to be implemented around the country as it was under the state of a pandemic

mj and ned told the group that they’ll be with their families since lectures had to be concluded for the mean time

you planned to do the same, but you expected that this situation wouldn’t last long. so you chose to stay in your dorm rather than return to your hometown

completely sucks since you not only don’t get to hang out with your friends, but you weren’t able to see anyone in person...

until you got a text from peter

he was literally inviting you over his apartment since he explained that he wasn’t returning home either

you practically rushed to pack a small amount of clothes for a sleepover whilst not forgetting to wear a mask (bc it’s fucking important ok)

you arrived at his address and a big warm hug ensues 

his unit was so tidy and you were convinced he did it to impress you

peter was so happy to see you, acknowledging that you’re also spending a few nights with him

the nights mostly consisted of eating snacks and binge watching movies

however during one of those nights, both of you got a bonus – making out on his couch and further, completely forgetting the television

making out with peter wasn’t awkward at all. most of the time he was the one in control, which you didn’t mind

his hands treated you so gently but the way he teased you made you crave for more than what he was offering

a lot of whining, swearing, and begging – you weren’t aware but he was enjoying it a lot

on his side, he did praise you from time to time, but most of it consisted of raw tension and actions. the room was full of grunts and short breaths 

just want to include how sexy peter would be while he moans all over you. like his whole sunshine personality just drained away the moment he places his hands on either sides of your waist

the next day you felt like a princess even though you know it shouldn’t be???

apparently peter prepared breakfast for you and you felt embarrassed walking around his place only in the shirt you wore yesterday and underwear

just when you thought the extra lunch he packs for you was already amazing, the breakfast he prepared whilst being fresh and hot was just incredible

“you really like it?”

“of course! you really have to teach me to cook sometimes”

peter laughs and jokes, “yeah, don’t worry. i feel like we’ve got a lot of time ahead.”

ok fast forward to a few more days when you were beginning to feel like a freeloader. he lets you borrow a few of his clothes as yours were in the laundry

by the time you wanted to stop by your place, peter started to be more... clingy

at first he didn’t want you to go but after a few more debates, he felt defeated and instead insisted on going with you

eventually you caved and let him. it wasn’t that bad either, he talked to you about a lot of things on the way leaving you entertained the whole walk without realizing how far it had been

he helped you ‘pack’ more stuff so you wouldn’t be going back and forth from his place and yours. you felt like you were going out of town for a month with the amount of clothes and products

both of you returned to his place around late afternoon. you felt pretty tired and didn’t hesitate to pass out on the living room couch

when you woke up you sensed that you were in peter’s bedroom, meaning he carried and tucked you during the night

plus! an arm was wrapped around your midriff and you could feel peter’s breathing against your side

you closed your eyes and appreciated the moment. it was cute and made butterflies flutter around your stomach, and you tried not to move much to not wake him up

anyways apparently the pandemic lasted longer, and more serious, than expected (fuck the government and their incompetency) 

you spent more time with peter and was thankful that you didn’t spend this quarantine alone

within a blink of an eye, a month and a half already had passed. you couldn’t deny that most, or all, days have been unproductive

eat, cook, watch tv, cuddle, fuck, repeatedly get spoiled??? yeah sounds like the dream

weird though because you haven’t completely brought up to peter if you’re actually in a relationship with him. oh no were you just friends with (a lot) of benefits??

but you also felt like it wasn’t the time to bring it up. neither of you were saying anything so it was best to let it be for the fear that things might go downhill from there

anyways this continued for more weeks, especially since the ‘stay-at-home’ policy was deemed necessary

you started to help him do errands around the apartment just to feel like you weren’t an actual freeloader – but it wasn’t a surprise when he kept insisting that you should relax

more cute moments

more sexy times

and more cuddles during night (peter’s grip became tighter every night, but you shrugged it off assuming that it was just you getting homesick and overthinking)

ok but when you brought up being homesick and mentioned that you planned peter wasn’t entirely happy about it

the way he acted wasn’t just clingy. he insisted that he’d be the one to go and that you were staying

“ok but i’m not a dog, peter?” “i know, honey, but it’s too dangerous outside. i wouldn’t want you to be at risk.” “i wear a mask?? i follow health protocols?? i’ll be fine??” “you don’t understand–”

oh god he was becoming controlling

you tried not to argue anymore, rather ignoring and pushing past him to proceed to the door

and peter instinctively wrapped an arm around your waist and prevented you from walking further

there was a lot of struggling, but you didn’t know he was this strong. literally what the hell.

you tried to scream too but he pretty much threatened you to your core

“let’s talk this out,” he grunts as he secures his grip around you

“the hell? let me go!”

things got more complicated. he did convince you to talk with him (by means of tying your arms and legs to incapacitate you from running and righting)

it was a nightmare. he was really soft and sweet with you, even getting teary eyed after stating, “i only want what’s best for you... for us”

however you could sense the manipulativeness through it despite being making everything else look convincing

“trust me, sweetie, i wouldn’t want to hurt you. it would crush me” “please don’t cry. i’m only protecting you” “people are disgusting, they don’t deserve an angel like you” “don’t worry, i can protect you”

it terrified you to your nerves, sending shivers across your spine

at first you didn’t realize it, but eventually after days of being trapped, you figured he had been grooming you the whole time

he tried to make you dependent of him and somehow he did a fine job. just not enough to completely exploit you

though, it made you question what would have been better in your situation: being conscious of his sly nature with the hope of escaping or being unaware and completely wrapped around his finger whereas letting him continue how greatly he had been caring for you?

[shreddedparchment]

A Wife for Thor Pt.05

10/28/2020

Preparations

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader          Word Count: 6,652

Warnings: angst, slight smut?, language, fluff

A/N: Thank you everyone, for putting up with my emotional ass. After some thought, and when I was feeling better and not so sad (?), I really didn’t wanna make those of you keeping up with the story wait for the next chapter. I hope you all enjoy this one and if you happen to reblog, thank you so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

Please DO NOT repost my stories on any other blogs or sites.

REBLOGS are always welcome!

The city is lively with beautiful Asgardians rushing about their daily lives. In the time since it’s completion, New Asgard and its inhabitants have settled into a routine. New lives on a planet now once again full of growth, community interaction, and celebration when the time is right.

“We’ll give you a proper tour tomorrow.” Brunnhilde says, reaching forward to tap the shoulder of the man driving you both. “Stop here.”

“Wait, aren’t you coming with me?” You ask, startled as she throws open the back door of the sleek black sedan.

“No. I have other things to prepare for the wedding and then I have to check in on my Valkyrie. Your escorts will meet you at the shop.” Brunnhilde assures you.

“But-”

“Bye!” She smiles at you and slams the door in your face.

You sit there, confused and at a loss. Your anxiety begins to mount when the driver, a handsome young Asgardian man with long braided black hair, clears his throat and draws your attention to the front.

“Shall I drive on Your Highness?” He asks, glancing in his rearview mirror at you.

“Um…” You’ll never get used to that stupid your highness stuff. “Yes.”

“Very good, Your Highness.”

“Can’t you just call me, Y/N?” You ask, feeling awkward.

“No.” He says, a smile on his face. “I cannot. I can see why his Majesty has chosen you.”

You’re surprised by this statement, and you’re pretty sure it’s insolent maybe? You don’t know because this is all new to you, but you don’t really care either way.

“Why?”

“You don’t remember me?” He asks, as he drives down the street.

As they pass, the Asgardians stop in their walking or talking or errand running to watch you drive by. Some of them smile with excitement, even moving with the car a few steps before stopping.

They’re all dressed normal. Asgardian garb abandoned to fit in on Earth. Not all of them. Some still wear their own clothes. Some of them wear a mixture of both. It’s a mish-mash of two cultures and you understand the need for a human Queen a little more.

“No.” You shake your head, giving the driver your full attention.

“I didn’t think you would.” He admits, smiling still. “You were very nervous when I first drove you up to the palace. Quite literally shaking in your pretty shoes.”

Was he your driver then too?!

“Alas, I understand his Majesty’s choice because you were the only woman that sat in my car and spoke to me. You may not have been aware enough to remember me, but you were very kind. Very concerned about me despite the stress you were in.” He looks in his rearview mirror again, meeting your eyes. “My wife gave birth, by the way.”

“Oh!” Your mind is struck with an unfocused conversation, hazy but you remember the pregnant wife. “I remember!”

You’re way too excited about remembering and the driver chuckles.

“Was it a boy or a girl?” You ask eagerly.

“A girl.” He smiles. “We’ve named her Luta.”

“Congratulations!” You exclaim gently, so happy for him.

“Thank you, Your Highness. I’ll tell my wife you said so.” He promises.

“I’d love to meet her.” You hope, leaning forward to get a better look at the side of his face.

“I’m not sure that will be possible. You’ll be terribly busy, and my wife is also with our little girl.”

“What if I came to pay her a special visit?” You really want to meet her.

“If you could find the time, Your Highness, my wife and I would be happy to receive you.” He smiles.

“I’m sorry if you told me last time we met, but what is your name?”

“Armod, Your Highness.” He tells you, turning down a second and smaller street.

The people are still dense, gathered around stalls and smaller shops as Armod drives a little slower to keep a careful eye on the families attending what must be an early morning market.

You take it in as quickly as you can, devouring the sight of these beautiful people and in return they turn to watch you go by.

They turn to each other, have quick and silent—to you—exchanges before a few of them begin to turn and wave.

Nervous, you wave timidly, smiling because you can’t help it. It isn’t a conscious decision.

The side street is so packed with stalls that it makes it impossible for people to follow the car at the speed it’s going, even reduced.

You’re a little grateful. You don’t want to get mobbed without someone else here to dilute the excitement.

“The people are very excited to see their future Queen.” Armod explains, “Forgive them their exuberance.”

“I hope I don’t disappoint them.”

As the crowd thins out, and Armod pulls the car into a gentle stop, he shakes his head, “Trust me, Your Highness, you won’t.”

Your car door opens. Into your view slides a pale white hand, luxurious suit jacket sleeve barely hiding the equally expensive white button-up underneath.

“Your Highness,” greets a familiar voice.

Taking his hand, Loki pulls you from the car, helping you stand and even reaching down to adjust the long train of your right sleeve.

The dress is sparkling blue, a body-hugging gold silk dress underneath the top sheer voile blue layer on top. The right sleeve is long, ends at your wrist, with a train that flows down at an equal length to that of your skirt. The left side is sleeveless.

You’re nervous about the deep V of your bodice, the scrunched-up shoulders of your dress carefully balanced there but too precarious for your liking.

With he sun out, the chill in the air isn’t so bad, but here in the shade of what must be the bridal shop, you shiver.

“You look lovely.” Loki smiles.

“I look stupid.” You counter, feeling very exposed and not at all pretty with how tight the dress feels.

“Allow me to politely disagree.” Loki takes your hand and leads it around his elbow as become aware of the people gathering around to catch a look at you. “I think the crowd would agree with me.”

“Can we go inside, please?” You beg, waving at the small group as other begin to flock from their spots at distant stalls to join the crowd.

“Of course.” Loki taps your hand then escorts you into the shop.

You relax a little once you’re inside and warm.

A middle-aged looking woman moves towards the two of you, her hand subtly stroking a large fold of crimson fabric on the low center shelf before she reaches you and then dips into a low curtsy before rising and grabbing her hands to hold at chest level.

“Good morning, your Highnesses!” She exclaims, gushing to an embarrassing degree.

“Good morning, Gorm. How are you?” Loki asks politely.

He doesn’t seem truly interested in her answer, but he waits kindly while she flusters with the honor of his polite concern.

“I am much better now that you and our King Thor’s lovely intended have arrived. Such an honor to meet you, Your Highness.” She says, addressing you directly.

“Thank you.” You reply, startled by her a bit. “It’s so great to meet you.”

“Tell me, Gorm, have you received His Majesty’s instructions on the dress we’d like?” Loki checks.

“Oh, yes, Your Highness! I’ve been working non-stop on several options since I received them.” She assures him, gesturing back towards a doorway past a long wooden counter with a modern cash register and signature pad for credit cards.

“Excellent.” Loki smiles. “Now, while I hate to do this to you, love—do you think you can handle a few hours alone with Gorm to do your fitting?”

“You’re leaving?” You ask, once again shocked, just like with Brunnhilde.

“I’m afraid I have several other things to do for the wedding and with the Earth and Asgardian ambassadors eager to have the wedding as soon as possible, I have to take every chance I can get to run these errands. Not like I have anything better to do…” Loki’s voice is slightly bitter, but only for a moment before he taps your hand again. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back long before you’re finished. Gorm doesn’t leave anything to chance with her gowns and this one is the most important one you will wear in your life. We have to get it right, don’t we Gorm?”

Gorm is already nodding, her blonde graying hair flowing like waves across her shoulders as she does. “Oh, yes, Your Highness. I will make sure that not only will the dress fit His Majesty’s expectations, but you too shall feel beautiful and like the dress was made just for you, Your Highness.”

“There you are.” Loki smiles. “I’ll be back.”

He pulls your hand up to his lips to kiss your knuckles before letting it go and moving towards the door, leaving you and Gorm to stand awkwardly for a few moments after the door shuts behind him.

“Shall we?” She gestures back towards the doorway and since there’s no way to get out of this, you fix her with a nervous smile and nod.

“Yes.” You sigh, and follow her, making sure to hold onto the counter as your round it so that you don’t trip on your train.

~~~~~~~~~~

Stomach absolutely growling, you slip your arms through the sleeves of the dress you’ve pretty much settled on.

The past five hours have had you step in and out of two other dresses three times, and this one a total of eight times. Each time so that Gorm can make alterations to length and cut and detail.

It’s surprising to you that this particular dress should need so much maintenance when it’s the simplest of the bunch.

You’d fallen for it almost at first sight but had tried the other two more frilly dresses to appease Gorm since Thor had requested something feminine to counteract the armor you’d be wearing on the day.

Armor you had no idea would be required in your wedding until Gorm explained the necessity for bodices without much flair.

“Alright, Your Highness,” Gorm smiles at you, holding the dress low and open for you to step through. “Once more, and then I think we are done.”

You let her slip the dress over you, layer after layer of smooth satin with one final crepe layer on top. The dress is eggshell white, soft, and easy on the eye.

Some white fabrics nearly burn your retinas, but this one is pleasant to look at.

It stops just around your shoulders, leaving them exposed. The neckline curves down with your bust just a little making the top look like a heart, the point of which is followed all the way down with a line of stitched white buttons.

They’re purely decorative because behind you is where Gorm stands to zip the dress closed.

She closes a small clasp and then folds out the layers of skirt around you.

It’s not as long as the blue dress you wore here today. Simpler and easier to walk in. The sleeves themselves are long, which you appreciate very much in this weather. Every bit of the dress now settles along your curves just right.

“Oh, this was the right choice, I think.” Gorm smiles wide. “You look beautiful, Your Highness. His Majesty is a very lucky man.”

You smile in return, flattered by her words for a moment because you forget that Thor has been with Jane all morning. As you remember, your smile falters then fades as the worries you had this morning come rushing back.

“You don’t like it?” Gorm asks, reaching down to stroke the long and beautiful skirt.

“Oh, no. I love the dress, Gorm. I’m just…worried about His Majesty liking it.” You smile at her, to reassure her. She’s done such amazing work. You might have her make all of your gowns from now on. Unless…?

“Gorm? Were you the one that made the dress I came in wearing today?” You wonder.

“No.” She shakes her head. “I’m afraid I did not have that pleasure.”

“How much of an imposition would it be if I made you my sole dressmaker? His Majesty has bought me some gowns to wear when appropriate, but I don’t feel like they’re my style.”

“Oh, Your Highness! It would be an honor to be your personal dressmaker!” She’s so flustered that she excuses herself and vanishes into the front of the shop to get her water.

You turn your gaze onto yourself in the mirror, all three angles looking back at you.

The dress really is unbelievably beautiful. You would never have thought that this dress and its style would have looked good on you, but it fits around your curves so seamlessly. This dress was literally made for you and it’s very noticeable.

As you turn around one final time, a small chuckle from the doorway pulls your eyes away from your reflection.

“I’m glad to see you haven’t put up such a fight over this.” Loki moves towards you, stopping a few feet away with his arms crossed over his chest.

“You should have seen me wrestle with the other two.” You sigh. “Can we go? I’m so hungry.”

Almost as if on cue, your stomach growls.

“Yes.” Loki nods. “We can go. I’ve got lunch waiting for you back in the palace.”

“Is Thor back?” You hop off the box you’d been standing on, grabbing your skirts and then dropping them to cascade around your legs like a milky waterfall.

Loki’s smile falter. “I’m afraid not. But don’t worry, he’ll be back soon, I’m sure.”

You’re so disappointed you wander away from him into the dressing room to change back into your blue dress without giving him any sort of answer.

He’s got you in the car, your forehead resting against the glass of the window, lost in thoughts of Thor and Jane when he speaks to you again.

“Might I ask you a favor, sister?” He probes gently.

Him calling you his sister makes your stomach tumble.

You have a brother! How can you ever explain this happiness?

“Sure.”

“I hope you don’t find me insolent, but-” He hesitates, thinking about the words he’s about to say hard before he meets your eyes and that seems to strengthen his resolve. “Don’t fall in love with Thor. Not yet. Don’t let him pull you in right away.”

“You think he’ll leave me for Jane?” You wait, watching as Loki thinks through your accusation.

“Not exactly, but yes. I suppose that’s a possibility I hope you can avoid.”

For a few minutes while Armod drives you back to the palace, you say nothing. You consider his request and the honest concern that he seems to have for you.

As Armod pulls into the large multi-car garage at the back of the palace, you turn to Loki and stare sadly.

“I can’t make that promise, Loki.” You shrug. “It’s already too late for that.”

“You love him?” Loki realizes.

“No!” You deny, “Not exactly. I don’t love him yet, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t very fond of him already. He-he kissed me last night.”

Loki’s brow furrows.

“A lot actually. He begged me to try and love him just as he would try to love me. I promised him I would try.” As if you’ll need to try.

You’re already hopelessly possessive over him. Maybe not him as a person, but rather those kisses he gave you. Those are your kisses now. Those thick arms he held you in, those are your arms—your hugs!

And now he might be in the United States giving those very things that are now yours alone to Jane who wouldn’t even marry him?

“It’s too late.” You reiterate, feeling absolutely lost.

“Come on, Your Highness. Let’s get you a late lunch.”

~~~~~~~~~~

If there isn’t a trail across your floor after all of the pacing you’ve done today, you’d be surprised.

“This won’t make him come back any faster.” Brunnhilde points out.

“Do I really have to model the wedding dress for him?” You ask, twisting your fingers nervously as you move up and down your room.

“I think it would be good for him.” Brunnhilde explains. “And yes. He won’t see your armor until the day of the wedding, but the dress will help make it more real for him. He needs that. So do you.”

“It’s already real for me Brunnhilde.” You lift your thumb nail to your teeth and nip, like a nervous pup, stopping at the heavy doors of the balcony.

They’ve been thrown open and the chilly air filtering in makes you shiver.

“Hilde.” Brunnhilde corrects, then moves to take a long wine-colored woolen shawl and drapes it over your shoulders as you stare out at the bustling city.

You can hear laughter, lots of merrymaking. The Asgardian people know how to enjoy their free time, but you’ve seen how hard they work too. As a whole. Loki assured you on the way home that there are just as many lazy time wasters among them as there are humans.

“Why are you fretting?” She sits at the desk, staring up at you with curious dark eyes.

“Because he’s been with Jane all day.” You lash out.

It’s not a scream, just pure exasperation. And immediately, you feel sorry.

“I’m sorry.” You sigh, dropping your hand but pulling the shawl around you tighter.

You notice it finally.

“Oh, thank you.” You really feel bad now.

“You’re acting like you’re already in love with him.” She teases, not caring one bit about your little tantrum.

Through the corners of your eyes you look at her, avoiding her piercing look.

“Y/N…?” She wonders, leaning forward to get a better look at you.

“I don’t love him, alright? I just…” You sigh. “No one’s ever kissed me before.”

Your feel your neck and ears burn, scorching with embarrassment as you admit just how much of a maiden she’d found for him.

“So, you really are a virgin?” She gasps, leaning almost her entire body along the desk to look at your face.

You frown at her. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“No.” She hakes her head. “No, not at all. You’re just so…well, you’re beautiful.”

The laugh that slips through your lips is sudden and honest.

You stare at her, shaking your head because you don’t believe her one bit.

“I’m serious!” Hilde assures you, smiling and amused by your reaction. “It’s a little bit of a shame that you haven’t been fawned on before.”

The sprinkle of sadness in her voice exposes her real meaning and it wipes away all traces of flattery.

“You mean, it’s a shame that I haven’t been with someone who will really love me because they choose to? And not like Thor because he has to?” With a bit more desperation, you look for Armod’s car, needing to see Thor.

Everything that happened last night feels like a dream. Made up in your mind to make it easier to marry Thor. Was it a dream?

You don’t remember him telling you goodnight. You have the vague memory of falling asleep with your head on his shoulder but you’re not sure how real that is with how hazy it feels.

What if his kisses had been a hopeful wish?

You bite your bottom lip, the heat and weight of his lips still fresh in your memory.

It can’t have been a dream. It felt so amazing. You could never have imagined the way it felt for him to invade you the way he did, pulling your body against his.

“He doesn’t come by car, y’know?” Hilde says, sitting back in her seat.

“What?” You turn to her, eager for explanation.

“Thor?” She gestures at the sky outside, drawing your eyes away from the city in the distance and up to the stars. “He flies here on Earth. It’s faster than flying by plane, but not by much. He’ll be going straight to his room as soon as he gets back.”

“Oh.” Your disappointment is suffocating and because you have no reason to keep freezing to death, you close the balcony doors.

With the cold shut out the heat from the hidden vents in your room saturates your shawl and envelopes you in a cocoon of heat.

“He might not want to see me tonight.” You accept, knowing that even if things went as best as they could have, Thor will still be heartbroken.

Having to give up on a relationship he had been so invested in? Even if he’s been unhappy with it lately, it must be difficult.

“No. He might not. But he has no choice. The wedding is in three days, so we have no time to wait for him to be ready to see you. We need approval on the dress.” She explains, leaving no room for argument.

Which is a shame because you would rather not see him all torn up about Jane. Not that you wouldn’t like to give him comfort. But you doubt that seeing you is something Thor would want. Not when it’s your fault that he has to break up with Jane to begin with.

“You know what? I’ll go check to see if he’s back. Gorm already sent us the dress. I’ll have Estrid help you put it on.” Hilde rises, moving out of the room without waiting for you to agree.

Five minutes later, Estrid moves into the room, her arms cradling your beautifully crafted wedding dress.

“Shall I do your hair too, Your Highness?” She asks, and lays the dress on your bed, the color such a beautiful contrast to the deep plum colored sheets.

“My hair?” You look in the mirror and the fancy thing they’d done with it this morning is falling apart. “No. I’m okay, Estrid. Thank you.”

“Very well, Your Highness.” She smiles kindly then moves towards you and takes your shawl.

You turn for her and she begins to unzip your blue dress, your mind on Thor and the mood he might be in when you see him again.

~~~~~~~~~~

The hesitation is in more than just your fist, hovering over the dark wooden of Thor’s bedroom door. It’s tall. Taller than it probably needs, sitting within a stone arch decorated with stunning golden engravings.

You’re not sure why Brunnhilde left you to do this alone. Loki is busy with something secret that he doesn’t want to share with you yet.

Not wedding related. He says it’s important and it involves you to some degree, but it’s not necessary for you to know until it’s necessary for you to know. Which is a circle-jerk kind of logic that you’re kind of annoyed by.

He’s nicer than previous opinions of him have made him seem. You suppose that has to do with the growth he’s made since he was last on Earth.

New York hadn’t been a great time for Loki, and he could only go up from there.

Brunnhilde had also neglected to tell you how Thor was feeling. Or looking? Either would have been great before you committed to coming up here on your own.

Thor’s bedroom is at the highest point of the palace. That is, highest save for the last floor which is mostly a defense tower full of weapons and a constant guard to keep Thor and his future wife safe. Which is now gonna be you.

Unless you go into his room and he tells you that he can’t stand being without Jane and rejects you and this pretty dress and you have to go back home to live just as you had before you met him. Only now with his kisses in your mind, his massive body pressed to yours, you won’t be able to get over the future you’d been promised.

How had you gone from refusing to marry him to wanting nothing more than to be his wife and even if all he was able to give you was one of those stupid kisses from last night, you’d be satisfied?

You drop your hand, almost with your mind made up to give up and just go back to your room because you don’t think you have the nerve to go through with seeing him today.

The part of you that disagrees, that remembers last night and wants more lifts your hand and knocks on his door.

In shock, you wait until his voice comes through and finally take a breath.

“Estrid? Is that you?” Thor’s voice sounds tired, not broken, but you can hear the weight in his heart by the sound of him.

You open the door and peek in, just one eye and the room is astoundingly beautiful.

If you weren’t so scared of what you’ll find in Thor, your jaw would drop ant the stunning image. To the left are two doorways, one is open, and you can see a large bathroom within. At the center of the room is what looks like a small kiddie pool, recessed into the floor, but probably deep enough for Thor to stand in?

There’s a part on this floor that’s shaped strangely from the outside and wonder if that’s what it is. The floor is dark stone tile, smooth and probably treated for waterproofing. Along the far wall of the bathroom, you can see a long wooden bench, dark oak like all of the other woods in the room from what you can see.

The toilet must be somewhere to the left where you can’t see from where you stand.

The other door is shut but since there is only an ornate set of drawers to the right of it, you assume that inside must be a large closet.

To the right of the room is a large bed. Large bed. You’ve never seen one so big.

It must be a California King? Which you’d stumbled upon in your search for mattresses when you’d first moved into your home. An accidental find and completely unnecessary.

That is, until now, when the thought of Thor laying in your very normal sized bed flits across your mind and suddenly the large King makes much more sense.

The bed is covered in soft looking gray flannel sheets. The comforter is gorgeous too, luxurious in its cotton ball soft appearance. Black with golden swirls and lines stitched across the top and bottom. The number of pillows is silly. All sizes too. Large ones at the very back and then several smaller ones until the ones at the very front are for mere decoration only.

Despite the more rustic look of the walls in the dark oak and stone base, the bed and furniture is slightly more modern in design. The headrest is cream white, ridged, and padded, as is the foot of the bed, but flatter than the headrest.

Two bedside tables hold various books on one and a lamp on the other. Behind the bed is a wall with a great big tree carved, flowing the length from top to bottom.

You swear you’ve seen that somewhere before.

The entirety of the wall opposite the doors to the room is made up of windows. Each window has been thrown open and the floor to ceiling curtains flow in the cool breeze.

They avoid the small breakfast table, laden with an untouched plate of the chicken you’d had for supper. On the other side is a large heavy looking desk. It’s sturdy. Big like Thor with papers and scrolls and folders. A laptop sits shut at the center and in the chair turned to face the left side of the room sits Thor with his shoulders hunched, elbows on his knees, hands supporting his face as he keeps it covered.

His body tells you everything you need to know about how he’s feeling and though you hate it, after so much worrying about what you’d find in here, you’re grateful to finally set eyes on him.

“It’s not Estrid.” You say gently, afraid to speak any louder and disturb him more than he already is.

His head whips towards you, faster than you expected.

Your hands go numb with nervous energy as he stares at you, his electric blue eyes scanning you very slowly from head to toe, then back up again. He takes his hand as he does so, covering his mouth with it, stroking his beard slowly as if fixing it.

Taking the opportunity, you note the plain jeans he’s wearing, the white t-shirt that stretches across his wide chest and strains to keep him covered. The hem of his sleeves struggle to keep his biceps contained. His golden hair is windswept, short as it is, it sticks in all directions.

He looks so good, so perfect, except for that sadness on his face.

You can’t bear to ask him anything about her.

“Gorm is lovely.” You tell him, forcing a smile and a quick nod.

He meets your eyes with his own, dropping the hand he’d used to shield his mouth and allows both his hands to dangle between his knees.

“She’s the best in the city.” Thor nods, devouring your dress again.

He suddenly rises and you teeter backwards with the sudden rise.

He steps towards you, his feet falling heavy on the floor.

You really like the way he struts towards you. There’s a slight sway to his hips.

Lips feeling dry and cracked, you freeze as he moves past you at the last moment.

The sound of him sitting on his bed pulls you around to look at him and he sighs, reaching his right arm up towards you.

With a swallow, you move towards him. The luscious short train of your skirt follows in your wake, flowing like water.

When you’re within reach, his places his hand on your waist, pulling you closer until you’re standing before him. He takes his other hand and places that on your waist too, making your breath shallow.

He looks up to meet your gaze.

Hands balled into fists; you wait. You’re not sure what he needs. What you need from this moment. You’re only sure that you’re glad you don’t seem to have dreamed up last night.

“You look beautiful.” He says, voice penetrating into your chest to restart your heart at double the speed.

“It’s a little simple.” You observe, remembering the other much frillier options.

“It suits you.” He lets his hand trace down along the side of your hip, stealing your breath before sliding his hand back up to your waist.

He gives you a little shake and you reach out to place your hands on his shoulders to keep from losing your already fragile balance.

“Brunnhilde told me that you were very anxious today.” He sounds worried, his brow puckered, eyes crinkled at the corners from concern.

You shrug for him, intending to play off the exact amount of worrying you’d done today because you don’t want him to know how invested you already are.

“I ended it with Jane.”

“You don’t have to-” You begin, but Thor makes a dismissive noise in his throat and cuts you off.

“I owe you an explanation.” He nods. “When I gave you that ring on your finger, I became your intended. Officially ending things with Jane was only out of respect for who we were when we were together.”

“Thor you really don’t have to tell me about your breakup with Jane. It’s private. It’s before me. Whatever happened between the two of you today is now in the past.” You sigh, trying not to think about what kisses might have been shared.

Maybe more?

You make a mental note to never hold it against him if he ever tells you that he slept with her today.

He was hers long before you agreed to marry him.

“I want to be honest with you.” He sighs. “I want us to be open with each other. I want us to talk about anything that may be troubling us.”

“We will.” You nod, giving his shoulders a small squeeze. “I promise.”

“Then tell me what you were worried about today.”

You already regret your promise.

“I thought about what you must be feeling. Wondered if you might change your mind.” Answering honestly is actually cathartic. Though you usually do it on reflex, choosing to do it feels nice.

Thor only watches you, waiting for you to get it all out, his large hands caressing the sides of your waist and making you tingle.

“Keep going.” He urges you gently.

“I’m embarrassed.” You admit, and Thor’s face relaxes a moment, the beginnings of a smile curling his lips.

He doesn’t prompt you again, just waits.

There’s a peace in this silence of his. An acceptance. A sense of time to just be.

“I was afraid that I’d imagined last night. I don’t remember falling asleep. I just woke up and it was this morning. And last night was so…” You stop, realizing that as much as you’ve thought about last night today, for Thor if there are any kisses that he wants to hold onto today, they’re probably from Jane.

This fact suddenly hardens your heart and resolve. You reach to grab his wrists to pull his hands off of you, but he doesn’t budge. You couldn’t move him if you pushed as hard as you can.

“It doesn’t matter.” You brush it off. “You probably want to just be alone and I was told that you need to approve the dress? So, tell me what you think, and I’ll get out of your hair.”

“Have I upset you?” He asks, face shifted back into that slight pout he’d been wearing before.

“N-No.” You shake your head.

“Then why do you want to leave so quickly?” He demands, voice rising in pitch at the end.

“I just…after today, I just thought that maybe you’d want some space?”

“Then you aren’t angry with me?” He checks.

“No.”

He leans forward and presses his head against your stomach, eyes shutting as his arms wrap themselves around you and pull you closer.

You don’t quite know what to do with your hands, so you stand there, holding them over his shoulders, fighting the desire to hold him back.

“I’m so tired.” He admits to you, and it settles in your heart.

You drop your arms, resting them against him before you embrace him, hands splayed along his wide back.

He exhales, relaxing against you. “Thank you.”

“For what, Thor?” You whisper, too overcome with all this hugging to speak any louder.

“For hugging me.”

Your heart breaks for him, and you hold him tighter.

“May I be honest with you about something?”

“Yes.” Here it is, the truth about Jane and him today.

“These moments with you have been the most enjoyable and special moments I’ve spent with anyone in a long time.”

Does it really matter if he slept with Jane today? Kissed her? Hugged her?

Was he this sweet with her too?

“I love you in this dress.”

You sigh, the first three words of that declaration sending your heart into a frenzy.

“You do?”

“I do.”

You smile, liking that very much.

Thor’s blue eye shifts with electricity, literally, and he pulls you down onto his lap with a demanding grip on your waist.

Your arm is still around his shoulder, the other moving down to rest over his hand which he brings around to rest on your lower belly.

“Are you happy?” He wonders, catching your fingers within his.

“Relatively.” You nod. “I’m still worried.”

Honestly, right?

“Why?” He laments, caressing your waist.

“I’m liking you more and more too quickly.” You sigh. “I don’t want to disappoint you or the people. I want to do well. Both in our marriage and with the kingdom.”

Thor caresses your side, then slides his hand down further, large hand sliding along the fabric of your dress down over your thigh.

There’s a subtle tickle between your legs. It startles you and you have to physically force yourself to relax.

“You’re already better than anyone else I might have chosen.” Thor whispers, leaning in closer until his lips are pressed to your ear.

You remind yourself that you made him promise not to do anything he doesn’t want to do. No forcing himself to be affectionate if he doesn’t feel it.

“Thor…” You gasp, just a flurry of the air left in your lungs.

“I’ve been thinking…” He admits. “Since I left you last night, about how we might be able to prepare for our wedding night.”

How do you breathe again? Where does the air go?

“Do you trust me, cherub?”

That pet name hits you just as fiercely as it did the first time and all you can do is nod.

Thor suddenly throws you back over his arm onto the bed. Landing with your head on the pillow, you gasp, chest rising and falling dramatically as you struggle to catch your breath again.

He leans down and hovers over you, waiting as you do, staring into your eyes.

“I’ll make certain you know this is not a dream.” He promises, then leans down to press his lips against yours.

You sigh, grateful for his taste as if it were a drug, removing an ache you’ve been feeling all day. Your arms come up on their own, trapping his torso down on yours as his hands trace your sides slowly.

This time you’re the one seeking more, pressing the tip of your tongue against his lips until he opens them and kisses you back.

He inhales your kiss, breathing in until you hear the vibration of a moan rip through him into you and you have never felt your body burn this way before.

You want him to make more sounds like that. Over and over if possible.

He pulls away too quickly, making you lift your head to follow him, but you fall back onto the bed, gasping for breath.

“Do you really trust me?” Thor checks again, his hands moving down along your sides until they stop at your hips, hands flexing and squeezing.

You’re shifting on his sheets, body squirming from energy you don’t recognize.

You know that he probably needs to be close to someone like this after today. After whatever he lost with Jane, even if he won’t let you see just how much it really hurt him, he probably needs this closeness.

“Yes.” You breathe.

With one hand he reaches down, staring into your eyes as he does. He finds the bottom hem of your dress and flips his hand underneath, then takes hold of your ankle.

He turns to face your feet, sliding down to the end of the bed then removes the flats you’d switched into, along with the thick socks you’d found to fight the cold.

It’s so chilly in here you shiver.

“You won’t be cold for long, cherub.” He promises.

After dropping your shoes on the floor, he rises then crawls onto the bed to where your feet are, grabbing hold of your ankles to pull your legs open a little.

“Easy.” He tells you gently. “You’ll still be a maid on our wedding night. This will be just a taste.”

He flips your skirt over his head, disappearing from view.

You push yourself up onto your elbows, curious and just as nervous until you feel the pressure of something wet slide up along your slit and you throw your head back, an uncontrollable moan ripping through your lips.

You hadn’t realized the taste would be for him.

[kindofwriter]

Just that bit of 177, but as a TV show script, because I have Ideas and no animation skills.

ID (unfortunately) under the cut, bc it’s literally thousands of words long.

ZOLF: Wilde, just talk to me honestly. Why are you... why...

WILDE: (ANGRY NOW) I'll tell you what: I'll talk to you honestly when you talk to me honestly

.WILDE snatches his hand out of ZOLF's.

.WILDE snatches his hand out of ZOLF's.

.WILDE snatches his hand out of ZOLF's.

ZOLF: (HESITANT) I am-

WILDE: (INTERRUPTING) Just say- Just say the words! 'Wilde, we need you to fix it again. Wilde, it's gone wrong, help! Wilde, solve this problem! Wilde; won't take long!'

With each sentence spoken WILDE's appearance changes: we watch him grow older. First we see him as ZOLF first met him: older, but still colourful and fresh-faced. Then we recognise his shorn hair and gaunt features from Damascus. Then, a flash of the man ZOLF has known for the past year: hair at an awkward, choppy length, practical clothes, tired eyes. And finally: thin and exhausted, with a jagged scar splitting across his face. He remains this way as he continues to speak.

WILDE: (ANGER BLURRING INTO UPSET) Just give me one of them! Just talk to me honestly, for the first time! Just, what is it? What- What needs fixing? What's gone wrong? What's on fire? 

WILDE gestures, almost absent-mindedley, out of the window.

CUT TO WIDE SHOT OF ZOLF

ZOLF is silhouetted in front of the window, which no longer shows an idyllic Paris day, but is instead reminiscent of the riots and looting that ensued after Mr Ceiling. A plume of smoke curls up out of Eiffel's folly.

CUT BACK TO WILDE

WILDE: Who died? What do I actually need to fix here? Because right now, this is the first chance I've had in I don't know how long. I've got finals coming up-

Suddenly WILDE is young and irritated again.

WILDE: I've got all of the interviews that are lined up on top, and everything's piling up, and all I've got are people asking me to fix things, and I keep doing it, and I keep fixing everything, brilliant. So, tell me, Zolf, I thought we were friends, but no. What do I need to fix?

ZOLF takes one hesitant, shuffled step towards WILDE.

ZOLF: (GENTLY )You don't have any-

WILDE: (INTERRUPTING )Do you want to cheat off me? Is that it? It's fine. Cheat off me, like everyone else does. It's. Fine.

WILDE drops his gaze, turning towards the garden.

ZOLF: (ANNOYED NOW) You don't have uni! You don't have exams! You don't have interviews! You. Are. Dead!

WILDE turns slightly back towards ZOLF and strokes a finger along his face, where his scar used to be.

ZOLF: You have no responsibility anymore. And you don't need to have any responsibility anymore. That's okay. (SOFTER) But I'm giving you a simple choice: you come back with me, or you don't. That's it. There is no other motive.

ZOLF pauses as if he wants to stop, looking upset and annoyed, then forces himself to press on.

ZOLF: Yes, things are broken. And things need to be fixed, and things need to be sorted out, but that doesn't have to be on you. And it shouldn't be just on you.

ZOLF extends a hand again. WILDE doesn't take it, but he's taken his attention away from the garden.

ZOLF: We're all responsible, for everything. And you died, in pursuit of a fix. And it would not be fair for me to tell you that you have to come back.

ZOLF lowers his hand.

WILDE: So why are you here? What, what, what's your actual point?

ZOLF: (INTERRUPTING) To ask you-

WILDE: (INTERRUPTING) Why don't you just let it lie?

ZOLF: (SOFT AND GENUINE) To ask you if you want to come back. You didn't choose to die, but you can, right now, choose to stay dead. 

WILDE takes a moment to compose himself. He suddenly remembers the drink still clutched in his other hand and finishes it, setting his glass on a table by the door. A breeze from the park ruffles his hair.

ZOLF: I know, better than a lot of people, that death ain't the end. Y'know, I'm a cleric for goodness sake. 

ZOLF touches the space on his chest were his dolphin once hung, then quickly drops his hand again, as if he was burned.

ZOLF: So, there is a, a natural order to things. And people die, and they move on, and that's just how it works.

WILDE: I'm just tired, Zolf. 

WILDE hangs his head, allowing his hair to cover his face in the same way he would do when hiding his scar.

WILDE: That's all. I'm sorry, I'm just- I'm just-

WILDE sighs. ZOLF takes another step closer to him.

ZOLF: I know, Wilde, I am tired too.

WILDE and ZOLF share a glance, one they've probably shared on countless late nights in countless safehouses. WILDE is the first to look away.

WILDE: Everyone thinks that they're carrying this, but they're not. 'Cause you know what happens if they drop the ball? I pick it up, and I pass it to someone else, and if no one else is there to take it I carry the ball myself. That-that's just how this works, and I'm just- I'm just tired. I'm just so tired, Zolf. I'm just. So. Tired.

ZOLF takes one final step; he's now right next to WILDE.

ZOLF: Do you really think you're the only person who feels like that? Everyone feels like that, all the time. Everyone's tired. And everyone has work to do. And-

WILDE: So, what? We just go back and carry on until eventually we can't? That's not-

WILDE sighs heavily, trailing off. ZOLF clenches a fist in frustration, but doesn't let it show on his face.

ZOLF: (WITH AN UPSET TINGE TO HIS VOICE, BUT KINDLY) Not necessarily. Not if you don't want to. I told you, when I first came here, I will turn around and I will go back on my own, and that is fine. 

ZOLF grits his teeth a little as he says this: is is clearly not fine.

ZOLF: That is your choice. But I want you to understand the options.

WILDE takes a deep breath, then looks directly at ZOLF.

WILDE: Just give me a reason, other than because there's something that needs doing. That's all I need. Just one reason, other than 'there is another job for you, Wilde.' That's all I need.

ZOLF seems flustered under WILDE's intense gaze, and for the first time since arriving looks directly away from him.

ZOLF: Do you want there to be another reason?

WILDE: What did I just say? Obviously I do! Yes! 

The tension is broken; ZOLF looks back to WILDE. His brow is furrowed slightly, and he looks like he's trying to hold back what he's about to say next.

ZOLF: (EXTREMELY SOFTLY) Fine. (FORCING THE WORDS OUT, BUT REALLY MEANING THEM) Because I need you, Wilde.

ZOLF reaches out a hand, but doesn't wait for WILDE to take it this time; he just grabs WILDE's hand in his own. A small smile twitches at the corner's of WILDE's lips.

WILDE: (SLIGHT SMILE BLOSSOMING INTO A GRIN) And there we go. An honest answer from Zolf Smith. I never thought I'd hear it.

ZOLF: (WITH RELIEF AND ANGER, BOTH MOCK AND REAL)You were just angling for that?!

ZOLF drops WILDE's hand in an over-dramatised manner. WILDE is chuckling slightly.

ZOLF: (GRINNING) You bastard.

WILDE: No, I wasn't just angling for that, but it's nice to know.

WILDE tucks his hair behind his ear.

ZOLF: Well, I didn't wanna say, because it wouldn't be fair.

WILDE: Oh, nothing's fair.

WILDE gazes over ZOLF's shoulder at something for a moment. The window reflects in his eyes, and there appears to be a figure stood on the balcony, dressed all in black, looking out over the city. ZOLF whips round to see what he's looking at, but there's no one there, save for the toe of a boot disappearing upwards, as if someone's climbing up to the roof. All this takes less than a moment. 

WILDE: Look at it.

They're both looking out the window now - from a distance - watching Paris burn. ZOLF turns back to WILDE.

ZOLF: D- uh. D'you want to come back, or don't you? Like, yeah, uh, I-I've said it, I know. But it's still your choice.

WILDE: Here's the plan. We're gonna finish up these drinks, we go out there-

WILDE gestures to the doorway behind him, but as he does the already darkened park fades completely to black.

WILDE: We'll figure it out. We always do. It's fine. It's just useful to know I'm not just beating my head against the wall for no reason, Zolf, y'know?

WILDE smiles fondly down at ZOLF, allowing the backs of their hands to brush together.

ZOLF: Look-

ZOLF pulls his hand away, and for a moment WILDE looks hurt, until ZOLF grabs hold of his lapels and yanks him down to ZOLF's height. Their noses are almost touching. WILDE smirks coyly and ZOLF looks stoic, but both of their cheeks flush slightly from the proximity.

ZOLF: When this is all done we'll go on holiday or something.

A huge, Cheshire-cat-grin spreads across WILDE's face.

WILDE: Where?

ZOLF: (EXHASPERATED AND FOND) Oh, I don't know! I don't know where's gonna be left after all this is done. But somewhere nice. 

WILDE: (WITH MOCK SINCERITY) Zolf, I won't come back with you until you tell me where we're going on holiday together.

ZOLF: Such a dick.

ZOLF lets go of WILDE, allowing him to straighten up, but as soon as he does ZOLF grabs his hand again.

ZOLF: Come on.

With one final shared smile, WILDE pulls ZOLF after him into the darkness.

END ID].